Buffalo, Odie, The Big W, The Zen Master, The Nose, Gravedigger, Drunken Man, Weasil, Stony, The Self Basting Italian, IDK (I don't know what the fuck your name is), Rhino, Birdie, Tweety, G-Man, Metal Mike, Burgermeister, Mageach, Fat Boy, Irish Guy, Albany Guy, Desperate Dan, Okie...

"Don't you guys have regular names?" my wife, Karen, asks me.

"Sure we do," I say.

"Well, what are they?" she asks.

"I don't know," I say. "I only know them by their nick-names."

"Their nick-names." She pauses and looks at me. "You all use nick-names. And how old are you?"

"Did you know," I say, thinking fast," that nick-names are much easier to remember than, you know, regular names? I never remember people's names anyway - but I do okay with nick-names. It's actually taught in, you know, memory school. It's a mnemonic memory jogger."

She just looks at me and smiles.

Sometimes I wonder why I even try to come up with a rationale for my various rugby related behaviors. I should just say, "You're right. It doesn't make sense," and just leave it at that because much of my rugby behavior doesn't make sense at all, unless of course you play. But... I'm stubborn so...

"You have to go to practice tonight?" she asks. "You told me you were going only one night this week. You have to go two nights this week?"

Gulp. "One night this week? Did I say I was only going one night this week? But this is a very important game we have on Saturday and I have to go to both practices to be ready."

"I thought you said it was an important game last week and that this coming week wasn't such a big deal?"

"Well the game has become important because... "

"Is there ever a game that's not important?" she asks so innocently.

And now I know I'm in trouble. "Well, no. Actually, I guess, they're all important at some level or other. I mean important on a cosmic level, no, but certainly on a more earthly plane there is a certain - "

"So you need to go to practice twice this week because of the big game this weekend."

"I'm glad you understand. By the way - did I tell you how absolutely beautiful you look in that outfit?"

And did you ever try to impose this rugby world on the real world of others who are not your family members or friends? Did you ever try to call one of your teammates at work and get a secretary on the line?

"Shit, this isn't voice-mail - I mean, Hello, I'd like to speak to Drunken Man - "

Click.

"Hello? Hello?"

You ring again and the secretary answers again, listing off a string of names for their professional law practice so fast and accurately that you think they were calling plays for you on your lineout Ð and you relate everything to rugby, even something as mudane as this.

"Don't hang up, please. I'm trying to get in touch with a guy I play rugby with. I just don't know his real name. He's a big guy with dark hair and his nose is pushed off slightly to one side and he has this kind of limp to the way he walks, maybe one arm is longer than the other - the right side probably - yes the right side. Do you know who I'm talking about?"

Click.

Whatever happened to voice-mail? Is it a rugby world? Is it a real world? Is there a difference?

So Karen says, "I was thinking about Columbus Day and what you said about going away for that weekend. I think we should go. It would be a good break for us."

"Columbus Day weekend? Did I say something about Columbus Day weekend? Is there by any chance a Saturday involved in that weekend?"

Gulp.

The End