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We Look At What Those Rugby Positions Really Mean...
Posted Jan 25, 2012 by Weird World of Rugby
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As everyone reading Imagine knows, we love to be a bit stupid on a Friday. Whether it’s silly quotes, catastrophic moments or refereeing howlers, there’s nothing we like more than lining up our favourite sports and laughing at their ridiculousness. In aid of the continuing ‘Stupid Friday’ column (as we may or may not permanently name it) we’ve decided to knuckle down and give the real story on what the rugby positions around the pitch REALLY mean:
Props: If your jolly Uncle Jim was a rugby player, he’d be a prop. Happy and usually toothless,these amiable chaps treat a balanced diet as a chicken in each hand, fuelling their bodies so that they can complete their transformation into scrum-crushing monsters. They’re lovely, really though.
Hooker: As well as being an evil genius and having half a cauliflower crop where his ears should be, this person’s position is confirmed by the Official Hooker’s Association Bald Patch that all people in this role must possess. Hooking and kicking skills are pretty useful too, obviously.
Locks. Renowned for their physical strength and athletic ability, these men are typically abnormally massive and may or may not possess the mental ability to use said massiveness in a creative way. Think of them as men who might have appeared in the UFC had they been born in California rather than Newport.
Flankers. If you took the speed, talent and the skill of backs but with a desire for a scrap that Russell Crowe would be proud of, these bloodthirsty men who just can’t help but get in that scrum and grind out. Their job – as the name suggests – is to leg it down the flanks and try to score. A certain cockiness comes from this position, but anyone who’s a flanker is by nature not a fly half, which is merit in itself.
Number Eight. Just like The Prisoner before him, this man has no need for a name: he does his talking on the field, legging it around and generally making a complete nuisance of himself to all and sundry, The advantage of pretending that he’s doing all the pushing in the scrum is that he can spend more time taking care of his looks than the props.
Scrum Half: If there’s one back that doesn’t shy away from a scrap, it’s the Scrum Half. Much like David before him, the scrum half has a nasty habit of starting fights with men far larger than himself, leaving the stones (or the locks, as they’re otherwise known) to conclude said arguments. Known for repetitively raking people in the face (usually opposing players, although this isn’t guaranteed), they’re resemble Roy Keane a bit more than is healthy.
Fly Half. The resident pretty boy of the rugby field, the fly half spends most of his sponsorship money on hair products and face cream, and is usually found applying them mid match whilst screaming incomprehensible orders at the other backs and yelling at rucks from a safe distance. Fly halves enjoy kicking more than Norman Hunter.
Centers. Referring to themselves as ‘freight trains’, these men are often somewhat more doughy than the steely name would suggest. However, over the years they do seemed to have developed a remarkable ability to keep the ball despite running into hordes of opposing players, seemingly with some form of superglue that they may or may not eat as a convenient snack following the match.
Wings. As tasty as their name suggests, these men are without doubt the smartest dressed people in the game, wings are the rugby equivalent of Trinny & Susannah (though it’s probably best to not use this analogy on the field, lest you end up with some form of boot enema). It is fairly common to find wings wondering around post-match and talking about their amazing (and entirely fictional) achievements to any ladies who will listen.
Fullback. The rugby equivalent of the schoolboy who everyone stared at to make uncomfortable, this poor lad is the last line of defence, and as such spends a lot of the game under intolerable pressure from far larger men than he. If there was a player that was likely to come into the dressing room with an Kaleshnikov and 200 rounds of ammunition, and be found half an hour later drinking a glass of what he claims to be ‘tomato juice.’