With last week’s copy of Rugby World came a 2015 World Cup wall chart. Immediately I unravelled it with as much anticipation and excitement as a kid opening Christmas presents. As a keen rugby fan I set out to underline all the matches I was going to watch on TV. Initially I was only interested in the big games, you know, England vs. Fiji, New Zealand vs. Argentina, etc. I promised myself to watch a lot of games, but not too many – not the minnows or the minors. They’ll probably be boring and error-filled, I naively thought at the time.
Anyway, I was pumped for the first match, England vs. Fiji, a great fixture to kick-off what was set to be a fantastic tournament. Billy Vunipola’s late try sealed an important bonus point for England, getting my team off to a fine start.
Overnight I fell ill. The doctor couldn’t diagnose me, neither had I the common cold nor anything more serious. It was a mystery. Rest up and drink lots was the message from him.
As soon as I got home, I did exactly that. Sprawling on the couch in front of Tonga v Georgia was the perfect antidote. Immediately I felt refreshed, the colour returned to my face and I was happy again. I hadn’t thought of watching Tonga v Georgia when I was reading my wall chart, but at that point in time when I returned from my doctor’s appointment, the desire to watch two of the (metaphorical but not physical) minnows of Pool C battle it out was all-consuming.
And boy did I enjoy it – Mamuka Gorgodze was head and shoulders above everyone both physically and figuratively, and the ‘Battle of the Brutes’ was something to behold. I mean this was 30 of the heaviest and strongest men in the World Cup running at each other – this was all my World Cup fever needed.
But the darkness that swallowed me up between matches was the roughest part. The hour between the final whistle at Kingsholm and the kick-off of Ireland v Canada felt as long as a millennium, which in itself carried a bittersweet irony, considering the setting. The World Cup went from collisions to tries as Ireland swept Canada away like they were mere red maple leaves…
What followed next then sent me into the bowels of World Cup fever. I was well and truly sick now, all thanks to one of the greatest upsets in history as South Africa succumbed to an 84th minute Japan try. I was hooked and France v Italy couldn’t come soon enough.
Within a few days I had gone from regular rugby fan to square-eyed couch potato and there didn’t seem to be light at the end of the tunnel. That night all I could dream of was Samoa v USA, I mean come on! Samoa v USA! Another match which I glazed over in my pre-tournament meditation, but one that was now so important, such is the severity of World Cup fever.
And now after the weekend’s action I feel more deprived than ever. During work today my body could not function properly and found it necessary to force my forefinger onto the ‘On’ button on my TV remote. Seconds later and Saturday’s highlights were replaying on the screen; a brief remedy from the aforementioned darkness.
If any of you readers are suffering from World Cup fever too, then you MUST watch some World Cup rugby, make some transfers to your Fantasy team, or continue to refresh twitter for team news.
Symptoms include but are not limited to:
Extreme rigidity, sudden surges of excitement, loud cheering, explosive anger, thirst for beer and hunger for snacks, rugby-related thoughts, sore thumb from refreshing twitter, impatience, more rugby-related thoughts, rugby-related dreams, sleep deprivation, loneliness, supporting the underdog, etc.
Incidentally, all the fixtures on my wall chart are now underlined – I intend to watch every single game because I’m addicted and that’s the only cure. Luckily, there are still five weeks left of the tournament, and it’s given me a warm shiver just thinking about it.
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