If you were to look at Saturday’s scoreline you would be forgiven for thinking Lugi played their best rugby of 2011: “8 to 38. That’s quite a drubbing, isn’t it?” And partly, you would be correct. We dominated possession and took territory when it was available. But it would really only be part of the story. Most of our tries came from the counter-attack, from quick turnovers and speed in the backs. That is to say, the scoreline stands as is thanks to opportunistic rugby. I don’t want to detract from a strong win. Yes, there were moments of individual brilliance, but as a team, we have played better rugby than we did on Saturday.
Disclaimer: The author of the text would like to point out that she is well aware that the following is more of a psychological journey into the game than a proper match report. She is also well aware that it’s rather gloomy but she is hoping that you, the reader, will be able to read it to the end where it will be slightly more cheery.
Let me tell you the story of how we came apart as a team and had to wrestle with our own minds. This is the story of what happens if you loose heart during a game. The story of dark thoughts and a deafening silence on the pitch. The story of how a team gradually stopped being a unit until all that remained was fourteen women in matching jerseys on a pitch. But it isn’t just a story of gloom and despair. It’s also a story of how we found each other again after the game, and how we choose to tackle similar situations in the future. This is the story of our game against Malmö/Pingvin.
17 players and their coach travelled down to Trelleborg on a sunny Thursday morning to take on their local rivals. The weather was a bit on the hot side, but not so hot it was insufferable. We were all prepared to write the third chapter of our story.