There was groping. There was wrestling. There was some running and at one point everyone was suddenly overjoyed.
Sunday morning I awoke at 9 am to walk to the Irish Tavern to watch the Rugby World Championship between New Zealand and France. A friend from frisbee had invited us to join her painted face and cheer for either team.
Needless to say the crowd was mostly pro-France. They chanted their swears, national anthem and other rallying encouragements. After the one French score, they raised a caged rooster (which I later learned is France’s ‘mascot’) and sang with their beers raised and flung on our heads. Who knew a beer shower in the morning could be so revitalizing. All of a sudden I was getting anxious with the crowd, gritting my teeth when someone was battered and relieved when the All Blacks turned it over. However, I still don’t know the rules of rugby.
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