We went to a rugby match this weekend, the Seattle Seawolves vs the Los Angeles Giltinis (a cocktail that nobody knows the recipe to, apparently) at a stadium down in Tukwila.
It was kind of fun, trying to explain the rules of rugby to my family when I couldn’t remember them (it’s been 30 years since I suffered through it at school) and with about a thousand spectators in total, quite different to our last sporting event, the Seahawks on Boxing Day.
The referee made a bunch of questionable decisions, denying the Seawolves two tries after they’d run half the field to score them, and seemingly ignoring every high tackle and dirty trick the Giltinis pulled, so it was perhaps no surprise that they were something like 21-5 when we left ten minutes before the end.
The girls were … not particularly interested. I suppose this is a common theme now, after them disliking the cold, the noise and the heights at the Seahawks game. Maybe watching organised sport is just not for them. There was a small grassy slope they seemed to like running down, so perhaps that’s what we need, a sport with small hills near the stands. Ah well. Onwards!