Sunday, 12 February 2012

Rugby vs. Football.

Apologies for not posting anything in the last couple of weeks but I’m in the middle of doing up my thesis and all my attempts to write something over the past fortnight have just ended up with me typing ‘Fuck science fuck science fuck science fuck science’ repeatedly.
Anyway I spent the last two weekends watching the Six Nations and I accidentally lost the remote during a Premier League game last Saturday so I ended up watching 20 mins of a football match before I decided to go do something more enjoyable. Like slamming my testicles in a car door.
I noticed a difference in attitudes to injuries in both games. Which I've attempted to illustrate here:

Rugby.
Commentator: Oh and Jones is slammed into the ground by the big English Second Row. And what a shame that is. He was only 22 years old. He is survived by his two brothers and his loving parents.

Medic 1: Holy shit! Did you see that? Better get the extra large body bag…and a shovel.
Medic 2: Jesus Christ. I can see his faceprint in the turf. Let’s start scraping him up before the embalmers get here.
Player: Eh. Guys, I’m ok..
Medic 1: You’re alive? Fuck me! That’s great.
Medic 2: You rest easy now son. We’re going to get you the best damn wheelchair money can buy. Just try not to move.
Player: No need. I’m fine.
Medic 1: Bullshit! That guy bodyslammed you into the turf head first! 
Medic 2: You have to be paralysed. That’s how spines work!
Player: Seriously, I’m grand.
Medic 2: Fucking hell. All right then, Let’s get you off the pitch
Player: No way. I have a game to play. We’re 4 points behind. I cant leave now.
Medic 1: You’re lucky to be alive. That tackle was insane! 
Medic 2: One of the linesmen is dead from the shockwaves alone.
Player: I’m going back in.
Medic 1: Dave, call the coach. Tell him what’s going on.
Medic 2 (into walkie talkie): Hey coach! You got a sec?
Coach: Yeah but hurry up. I’m on the phone to Jones’s parents. We’re arranging the funeral for Wedns…
Medic 2: No, that’s the thing. He’s alive!
Coach: No way! Really? That’s great. I’ll tell his Mum to cancel the coffin and invest in a stairlift instead.
Medic 2: He’s not paralysed either! He wants to go back in.
Coach: He wants to do what? No way. This league doesn’t have the insurance to let zombies play. Tell him to get his arse off the pitch so that medical science can study him.
Medic 2: Have you seen the size of this bastard? You fucking tell him! No way I'm pissing off someone who's clearly a Highlander.
Coach: Good point. Ok let him play. Let him know that it’s not our fault if his body finally realises it’s dead while he’s playing though.

Football.
Commentator: Oh and the defender has brushed lightly against Smith. And Smith has done a full body somersault and is now curled into the foetal position at the corner flag.

Player: Arrrgghhh Oh God, It hurts!
Medic: It’s ok. I’m here now. Where does it hurt?
Player: My ankle! He tripped me!
Medic: I know he did. That was very naughty of him and the coach and I are going to have a long talk with his manager about it.
Player: I want him arrested! Take me off. I need medical attention!
Medic: It’s just a scratch. You’re fine. Who’s my big brave boy?
Player: …..
Medic: Who’s my big brave boy?
Player: I am.
Medic: Thataboy! Now I need you to get up and play the rest of the game. Ok?
Player: What's in it for me?
Medic: Besides your obscene salary?
Player: Yes.
Medic: Okay we'll let you shoot one of the work experience kids with an air-rifle again.
Player: All right. But I'm not shaking his hand at the end.
Medic: No worries. I don't see that getting blown totally out of proportion at all.




Read more Rugby articles:
(Presumably) How the First Haka Happened
Rugby injuries vs. Soccer injuries
If Irish rugby profile were more honest (and inaccurate)