Be A Man

"Eh, don't make it this weekend lah, we won't be around..."

Basket.


So I may not get to see fourteen burly men rumbling around in the fields this weekend, but at least I got to see THIRTY young dudes grabbing one another's thighs, rolling about on the ground today.

Hmmmph.


Sometimes I don't get rugby.

But worse of all, sometimes I don't get why I love watching rugby so much when I don't even get it.

It's such a 'boys' thing. It's but a playing field where egos clash. It's rather silly seeing a bunch of dudes clamoring on top of one another over a tiny olive-ball at the bottom of the pile.

Women care about being 'glam' - hence the mini-skirts on the netball courts, the ever-smaller-and-tighter outfits on the tennis courts, the very-figure-scrutinizing pseudo-bikinis on the volleyball courts, on the gymnastic mats and even on the rubber tracks.

Don't win, never mind. At least must lose in style. That was the motto we've lived by for years.

Boys? They spit on the football pitch in front of millions and millions of spectators. They throw fists and jut elbows before they could run end-to-end on the basketball courts.

And of course. They grab one another around the waist, sometimes face to the ass, and engage in one big mass orgy-like frolicking on the muddy rugby fields.

And then, there are those spectators on the stands - mostly boys, all half-drunk and spewing expletives at no one in particular at times.

But tell me then. Tell me why I love watching football or rugby or basketball so much over anything else. Especially in 'live' action.

Maybe, it's simply because it's such a 'boys' thing.

Ooooh. So 'man'.