A Whole Lotta Man Thigh

This past Saturday I witnessed my very first rugby match – and then my second, third, fourth, fifth and sixth right after that. Buffin and I took a 1 ½ hour metro ride out to a very remote area of Pudong (which, to be honest, looked like industrial wasteland) to see our friend Thomas play in the Shanghai Sevens rugby tournament. While I didn’t exactly walk away from the event with a firm grasp on the sport (surprise, surprise, huh Dad?), I did learn that if you go to a rugby match you’re going to see a whole lotta man thigh.

There is something uncomfortable and unnatural about seeing a man’s exposed upper thigh. On this past season of The Bachelorette (yes, I just went there), Ed wore some ridiculously short, green swim trunks while he and Jillian were in Hawaii. I think I speak for all Bachelorette junkies when I say that it was just plain wrong. I couldn’t put my finger on the specific reason then, per se, but I believe I know the answer now. Man thigh.

Now, Ed had no good reason to showcase his upper gams – on national television, nonetheless – but rugby players do. Their Gap Kids-like shorts make it easier for them to run around the pitch (new rugby vocabulary!). Or so says Thomas. Luckily, he and a few other players opted to wear bike shorts underneath, so I can still look him in the eye.

Thomas plays for a local club team called the Shanghai Hairy Crabs (which my guidebook calls “local legends”). Their biggest match was against the Beijing Devils, whose players, like the Hairy Crabs, are all foreigners – Brits, Aussies, Americans, and so on. The Hairy Crabs beat the Devils in what was probably the most exciting game of the day because of a longstanding rivalry.

But my favorite team (sorry, Thomas) had to be the French. Not only were their uniforms a very delicate shade of princess pink, but across the rear end of their shorts (very short, keep in mind) the words “French Flair” were emblazoned. And between matches, they put on T-shirts with a French phrase meaning “Not a circle, not a square, but an oval!” (in reference to the rugby ball). Thomas said the Frenchmen think it’s hilarious. Ah, French humor. Will I ever get you? But it doesn’t stop there. During downtime they would also put on (and I shit you not) berets. And they wonder why Americans patronize them?

Apart from the uncharacteristically cool, dreary weather (Buffin even managed to get goosebumps), we had a great time. We each had a hotdog, which will probably account for 90% of our protein intake for the entire week, and also had the distinct pleasure of looking at cute men all day. Buffin and I agreed that the tournament brought out the cutest collective group of guys we have seen the entire time we’ve been here. Hey rugby players, where do you hide on the weekends?

The parts of the match that I found most interesting to watch, which also happen to be the things that come to mind when people think rugby (what, like you don’t ever think about rugby?) are the lineout and the scrum. During a lineout, two players from each team lift one of their teammates into the air by their shorts (even though they look like something out of Heidi Montag’s closet, they are made of some seriously sturdy material) to try to catch the ball. It’s kind of like a soccer throw-in. A scrum is when players from each team form a circle and lock arms with their teammates, then try to kick the ball out of the middle of the circle and toward their side of the pitch. Both the lineout and the scrum look oddy familiar to things you would do in cheerleading – like building a pyramid (scrum) or stunting (lineout). But don’t let that analogy fool you, rugby is a rough and tumble sport. Women and girls do, however, play the sport, and we got to see a match or two. But Buffin had it right when she said, “I can’t imagine my mom ever letting me play rugby.”

At the end of the day, while we were waiting for the metro to take us home, the British team (on the other side of the platform) flagged us down. “Texas! Texas!” they yelled, pointing at my University of Texas T-shirt. We smiled and I instinctively put up my horns. Rugby might be the closest thing I’m going to get to football this fall, but it definitely doesn’t hold a candle to a Texas game – especially, when it comes to the uniforms. Colt McCoy in mini-shorts? I think I’ll pass.