Rugby breaks my boy.

Being from the North East this week when Teenwolf was off to play rugby in Aberdeen where I was born and brought up both the long suffering husband and I decided to go up and support his team in the quarter final of The Scottish Cup.

My Dad was at Aberdeen Grammar School and had a healthy rivalry with Robert Gordons their opponents today– his jokes were legendary at their expense so there was no way we were missing it despite it being on a Wednesday afternoon we drove up from Edinburgh with a few other supporters.

Blowing a hooly as they say in these parts we arrived at the ground to find Robert Gordons had drafted in most of their 5th and 6th year to holler, hoot and blow vuvezelas as their team emerged from the changing room. Our boys came out and the atmosphere was electric –  it felt  gladiatorial. Noise and high emotion as the winner would go through to the semi-final of the much lauded Brewin Dolphin under 18 Scottish cup.

And they were off. Within a minute  the whistle went as someone’s eye got bashed, it was rough as hell.   Tough, physical and frankly tortuous as a mum to watch. Then 5 minutes in, Teenwolf was down. He was sitting up on the far side of the stand from where we sat so from there we thought he was just winded. Then the linesmans hand went up and the on call medic ran over. Then-  they signalled to us in the stand. As I have been banned from even acknowledging Teenwolf under any circumstances on the rugby pitch – he fears I will run on and berate the tough opposition to ‘unhand my boy’ – he’s right. So being beckoned  over confirmed there was a problem.

Sick we made our way over his arm was broken. Off  we went into the medics room where he lay – furious. Not upset, or talking pain but livid he would be out for the rest of the season. The lure of the oval ball beyond me.

Off to ARI, x-rays, consultations and then through to orthopaedics where the most delightful Irish Dr. and Australian anaethetist took care of him. He was knocked out whilst they wrenched the arm back into the position it should be (gulp) and then brought him round and invited us in to see him. He was gibbering. Telling me he had been at his friend James’s party and the music was amazing. Aye aye.

We were told the stuff they used to put him out was the stuff that Michael Jackson allegedly used to sleep. I can see how that could easily be lethal in the wrong hands. But he was in the hands of a very talented team thank God.

Plaster cast, glazed expression and a desire to ‘eat anything big now’ we hit the road home after out 7 hour trip to casualty.

The National Health Service is a privilege to have and those guys were outstanding. I can’t praise them highly enough. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

I phoned my Mum once it was all taken care of and told her. Oh dear she said is he OK?  Yes I said. No hesitation her next question? What was the score? WHAT WAS THE SCORE? The auld rivalry raising its head once more. 48-0 to Edinburgh I said. Great she said your Dad would be cock a hoop.

So semi-final next – Teenwolf on the sidelines supporting them. COME ON !


Writer & broadcaster.

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