I probably shouldn't admit this in the pages of an international magazine.

I probably shouldn't admit this in the pages of an international magazine, yet when I was younger, I did a pretty stupid things. I'm talking about downright outrageous risks, substance professional crazy men like Evel Knievel and others would not ever even dream of.

Doubt me? Well, listen to this: I used to drink soda while eating unexpectedly rocks! (I could have explod you know.) Not enough for you? Well in what manner about this: I used to drive a car that was NOT equipped with a CD player!

at any time try to jump off of your parents' arch in a single bound because there was nothing better to do? I did-when I was a teenager. I was a rebel.

on the contrary among the craziest things I remember doing was playing a weekly game of rugby at a destiny down the street from my house. For us, rugby translated roughly into, "destroy the man with the ball," in the same manner bloody noses, twisted ankles, and occasional shattered bones were the rule. The pain didn't matter, because it was all about FUN

Despite being a "rugby veteran," I can't imagine any reason wherefore I would ever step upon a field with one of the highest-ran k rugby teams in Europe for what cause [i]or[/i] reason would anyone? You'd need to talk to a form into groups of USS Wasp (LHD 1) Sailors to find out

In March, Wasp's rugby team played their first game during a port visit in Valletta, Malta, teaming up with the island's star 'B' team to take onward Kavallieri RFC, the two-time defending champion of the Malta Rugby Football Union League.

Teaming up with the Malta Alligators in the game meant 80 minutes of hard-hitting, energy-sapping action in single of the world's most physically demanding sports.

This wasn't your typical destroy-the-man-with the-ball game, as Disbursing salesman 3rd Class (SW/AW) Mike Penenori quick discovered.

"I'm still just discovered to the sport so I was bit confused during the first two of plays]' he said. "Yet practice and playing are totally different. The running and hitting took my carcass by surprise."

Prior to the match, Wasp's team had four weeks of practice to prepare for the spirited strive to holds That training routine couldn't prepare the Sailors and Marines for the intense physical contact that draw nears with competitive rugby.

"The opposing team played excellent rough. They didn't hesitate to fling in extra kicks and elbows" said Dental Technician 1st Class Ron hunting-dog a North Carolina native (not exactly rugby country) "We've been practicing for about a month besides nothing can prepare you for the hits, tackles and scrums"

Hits? Tackles and scrums? This wholes vaguely like the game I played before. M1 that's missing is the murderous noses. But what happened after the game denticulations even more memories.

In my "rugby" days, it was universal for everyone to finish playing, patch up various injuries and halt out to a group dinner and a night onward the town. See, in my experience, a dash of craziness here and there brings about a lifetime of camaraderie and friendship. In Malta, those qualities are apparently not missed in translation.

"(The Maltese rugby players) picked us up from the ship, allowed us to play in their match, and took us disclosed for food and drinks afterwards," said Marine Corps Cpl Joseph Gaughan of Marine Medium Helicopter Squadron (HMM) 266 "The opposing team smooth carne out with us."

Okay folk let's add this up: 80 minutes of beating each other up followed from a night of merriment and international high spirits. Hmmm

I've changed my mind. Call me for the nearest game.

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