In a class of their own

Yesterday, the husband and some of his rugby mates from years back, grouped together to play in a tournament. If you rewind to eight years ago, when these men were at their peak of performance (rugby performance people, get your mind out of the gutter please!) they were amongst the best rugby players around, the husband included.

Fast forward to yesterday, these men were showing their age. Their body have been battered and bruised from the sport. Their speed, nowhere fast enough compared to the young men they were playing against. It was a case of the willing fighting spirit trapped in a weak body.

But persevered they did. They got through the first rounds, and got through the quarter finals. When I arrived at the pitch with the kids, they were waiting to play the semi finals against the tournament's best team. The husband said we'll go home right after the semis since he doesn't think they'll win that round.

But boy, was he wrong. He and his team fought hard and fought strong. Tempers were flared and punches were nearly thrown by the young men but it was determination and experience of the older men that won. And with that, the husband's team went on to the finals, much to their own surprise.

The finals saw the husband's team being pitted against a team of mean-looking no-nonsense Gurkhas. I got intimidated just by looking at their non-smiling face. Not to mention they look like they are the fittest team in the tournament.

The finals turned out to be the best game of the tournament. The Gurkhas put up a very strong defence and they impressed on the account of speed and fitness. But the husband's team of have-beens, well, they showed they still have some mileage in them yet. They won by a large margin, much to the surprise of everyone. The taste of victory, especially when it is totally unexpected, is truly sweet.

So today, these old men are nursing bruises, muscle aches and torn ligaments. I know for sure the husband is wearing his share, like a badge of honour. Danial wrote in his school journal last night, "I am so proud of my dad. He did really well and won the match." Well said.

A wonderful weekend was had

The weekend started nicely for the husband and I with Farhana's gorgeous wedding. Her tap dancing friends put up a couple of very nice dance items and great speeches from friends and family members. And yes, I did cry, although I was careful not to ruin my mascara - got to get me some of them waterproof mascara!

Saturday afternoon was spent with my parents. My dad had a minor eye surgery and was recuperating at home. We left my parents' at about 4-ish in the pouring rain to attend the husband's annual rugby game. There were some interesting conversations in the car on the way there, which included me reminding the husband he is out-of-form to be playing competitively, and him reminding me that this was a friendly match.

In any case, he played, and his team won. And now he's paying for it with bruises and aching muscles. I don't want to say "I told you so" but I think he got that message anyways.

Sunday night was nice. The husband got us tickets to watch m-pact, an a cappella group and I went to my first a cappella concert ever. It was quite fun. We were amazed at the group's performance - it was such perfect harmony with the different tones and range. I never thought the human vocal chords could be so flexible.

Tomorrow, I'm off to New York for a short business trip; back on Saturday. And Sunday night we are double dating with the Bhutias. We'll be catching Whose Line Is It Anyway. Can't wait!