Lawrence Dallaglio book giveaway

[Greiffel]

Now that you're a member of the forum, say hi below to enter. If you want to include a rugby story, obviously that will increase your chances of winning.

Remember, it's a signed copy from a world cup winner that you could get, so it's well worth taking a few minutes to take a chance. You'll also join the RD community, which is a good thing in it's own right.

Winners will be contacted on here.

EDIT: All you need to do to enter is post a message saying hello in some way. A rugby story is added value.

[daggs]

Hi Grant and guys @ RD.

Im going to give 2 stories here, one as a Bok supporter and the other as a player.

BOK SUPPORTER

In 2004 a few mates who go on tour every year to watch a 3N game out of Durban decided we wanted to go to France and watch a RWC Final. we knew from the offset that we going there to watch a Final and it may not even include the Boks. This was after a torrid time with Rudolph and Jake has just taken the reins as Boks coach. Our hope was that the Boks would at least make a Semi Finals so we would see them twice as we planned to go to both Semi's / 3rd 4th Play Off / Final. This started 4 long years of saving and planning.

As it turns out, the Boks made the Semi Finals and we would see them twice as well as 2 other games.

To cut a long story short, I was privledged to see the Boks win the RWC and I was there, the best part was still to follow.

We had been told by mates where the Boks hotel was and it started a long journey of an hour and a half to get there to see the Boks. After finally finding the hotel, as you would imagine, it was packed and they were only letting in guests of the Hotel.

After 3 fruitless attempts to get into the hotel with my mate, using hotel access cards etc we were going to give up when we saw the 'main doorman' walk off around the corner. It was now or never. We walked in as we owned the place and my mate got in but I got stopped and asked questions, there an then i started shouting at the doorman telling him to call his boss cause they keep on trying to stop me and Im a guest. He got such a fright at the commotion I was causing he ushered me inside quickly and I made a bee line for the bar to hide until we felt we were safe, we had made it in!!!

There and thn we saw what only a few people had seen, the Boks celebrating the win with the trophy. They were in a closed room but kept on comig out to see fans and pose for pics and meet mates etc.


We got to shake hands and get pics with all the players and saw other legends of the game, it was brilliant and an experience of a lifetime to end of a RWC victory. We left the hotel at 6am and started our long trek to our hotel and our parting shot was seeing John Smit, Jake White and Eddie Jones sitting at a table in their private room having a chat.

If there was ever a once in a lifetime opportunity as a Bok fan to experience something magical, it was that 12 hours period i lived though and got the pics to tell all about it.

PLAYER AND RUGBY LOVER

The best weekend of rugby as a player and fan, and there are many trust me, was this one.

A few years ago our rugby clubs 1st and 2nd team had to travel to Newcastle and both sides had to win their games to win the leagues. We had added incentive that if we both won the game and leauges, the bus would carry on from Newcastle over night and we would go to Ellis Park to watch the Boks take on the Aussies.

As it happens we both won our games and the leagues and we stayed in Newcastle till the early hours then the bus headed for JHB. While in Newcastle we obviously celebrated our wins and the fines followed and the beers flowed. We went to one of the open pubs to kill time and just partied and we all like teenagers, the highlight of Newcastle was both teams taking all the balls from the pool tables with our numbers we played and and i still have my number 1 yellow ball @ home in my pub as a memento from the trip.

We then hit the bus @ headed to JNB with booze aplenty and arriving in JHB passer bys were treated to a bus full load of drunk rugby players half of them hanging out the windows trying to get 'rid' of the booze they have poured down their faces the previous night.

We had arranged to shower and change @ one of the private school in JB but when we arrived, we were such a mess we were not allowed on the premisess so we headed to their old boys facility to shower and have breakfast.

Some made it go the game, some didnt and most slept during the game that saw Werner Greef score in the last minute of the game to win it and give the Bosk the W.

We stayed for a while in the Castle tents afterwards for a few hours and those that could stomach it partied hard and drank more and some slept on the bus.

When we headed to leave at midnight to get home, it was the quitest I have ever seena bus full of rugby players. Thats what rugby is all about, the good times, the celebrating, the comararderie and at the end of the day...rugby being the game it is and bringing people closer.

Thks guys...

Daggs.

[secondrowguy]

Well, living in Canada I can't say we have the highest level of rugby here (in Ontario, a province of Canada). Being an English citizen though I often feel starved of Rugby at points (something Rugbydump has helped ease).

Anyway, my greatest rugby moment was this past Summer. I play on my city's representative team and we were quite good actually (by Canadian standards). However we definitely weren't amazing. We are a small city compared to those around us but despite this we were still competitive.

We had a rugby filled week, on the Saturday, we had an away game against the number one team in the province who are also our rivals, on the Sunday we were in a tournament in the capital, Ottawa where we were to play the provincial team (Team Ontario) and a team from Scotland. On the Wednesday we played a touring side from England and then on the Saturday our other rivals who were right below us in the standings.

We got three wins from the week, we lost to Lindsay (our rivals in 1st place) 31-7 in a close affair that was split open by their fly half who plays on the national side. We also lost to the English side 59-0 (although we were understrength). But the greatest moment came on the Sunday in Ottawa, we the smalltown Ontario team playing the province. We started with great pressure hammering through them with our pack, but just on the line a poor pass was picked off and intercepted and they ran the length of the field to score underneath the posts. We struck back fast, scoring in the corner so could not convert leaving the scores 7-5 to Ontario at half time. Knowing how close we were gave us a lot of momentum, and (half of ) my moment came when I got the ball and somehow broke through a tackle and took another, offloading to our inside centre who ran in for a try in the corner to give us a 10-7 lead. Ontario came back hard with great pressure, forcing over for a try, giving them back the lead 12-10. With a minute to play, Ontario had a lineout in their 22. As you might tell, I am a second row, and in the lineout I stole the ball, and in the maul that followed we squeezed over the line to score the winning try. 15-12, a farm town against a province. The biggest steal of my life and my greatest rugby moment.

(p.s, we beat the scottish team 27-22, and our other rivals 12-5 to round up a very fun week!)

[feetham]

here is one from the lighter side i was invited to go on tour with a university side in another province UNB (New Brunswick Canada) for a 'dirt cheap' tour as a starving student myself i really thought it was great that we could go on a week long tour for 150 buck plus food and drinks. the plan was to head down to north carolina and play their super league team as well as another a side club team (we brought two sides) then head to play #4 in the states penn state before coming home to Canada. it fast become apparent why it was so cheap there was no bathroom on the bus and traveling for 8 hours a day there was only one thing to do have a brew or a few dozen so we did. we got to play the first game for each side without any trouble Charlotte was a great city and there was a man who used to play for my home club who billeted us we got to see a nba game which was fun even though i dont care much for b ball. then the next morning we were off to College station Pennsylvania to play Penn states side and guess what there was a flood. so there was no way we could play them so we did the only logical thing found a bar and had a brew. they way back we continued with the antics.
on this rugby tour we managed to play one game travel through 10 states and well we were more of a drinking team with a rugby problem than anything.

i am just now realizing how hard it is to tell rugby stories while keeping it pg

[Mulletus@hotmail.com]

RD I’ll try and keep this short with a story of one of my mates, good lad Ross O'Carroll Kelly, for a match that actually involves Dallaglio. Basically roysh a member of his family have been at every home Ireland game at Lansdowne Road for at least the past 25 years until that sad day the 31st December, 2006.
In 2005 my friend Ross watched Ireland lose 15-27 to England with Dallaglio at the helm. Being a massive supporter he went out the back to wait for the Irish players to come out with his dad and a few others to clap and cheer them out to at least show support in a loss. The Irish players appreciating this stuck around to give out a few autographs and get photos. It was then that Ross saw Dallaglio and a few other English players and knowing his slight inclination to an ego asked him for a photograph....
Dallaglio all smiles and humble pride was more than happy to agree. At which point Ross handed him his camera and stood beside Humphreys (as Ross is a 10 also) and had Dallaglio (rather confuesed as to what had just happened) take a photo of Ross and Humphreys. Bit of Irish Craic for you all at RD eh?

[lourencoarriaga]

So here is my rugby story, which is quite simply a description of the most memorable day of my rugby life, for all the right, wrong and dubious reasons.

After several years playing rugby in Portugal, I, Lourenco (coincidently the same name as Lawrence Dallaglio, who is actually called Lorenzo, Italian for both Lawrence and Lourenco) went to study in the UK, more specifically in Kingston University (coincidently the same university that Lawrence Dallaglio went to and played rugby for). I decided to have a go at university rugby and after several training sessions, my first Wednesday afternoon rugby match finally came.

We played away, at Plymouth, and I'll quickly skip to what happened after the game, as we were heavily thrashed during the game. I was about to be introduced to what I believe to be British rugby habits (or at least Kingston Uni rugby habits).

Still at the bar in Plymouth, I was considered man of the match on my first appearance. I'm quite sure it wasn't for the quality of my game itself, but for exceeding expectations, as noone expected much from the tiny Portuguese guy who had randomly showed up to practice. Nevertheless, I was told I had to down a pint of unknown substances, which was the challenge for the man of the match. Now, don't get me wrong, but we Portuguese are heavy drinkers, however we stick to beer, whisky and wine, and anything that falls outside those is something we'll probably throw up. Needless to say, I was incapable of doing and embarrassed in front of both teams. As if that wasn't enough, the captain of the opposing team, decided to take is clothes of and drink what I had left (about 90%) on top of a chair. He was kicked out of the bar for getting naked, but I guess he made quite a name for himself.

On the way back, I was told I would have to go through initiation. Now, initiation rituals in Portugal, take about 10 seconds and include you running through a corridor of players that slap you in the back. This, however, was very different. Me, and 2 others, would be dropped off 3 miles away from our meeting point (a pub in Kingston) in just our boxer shorts and we would have to run all the way back to the pub. It took us about 2 minutes to realize that the bus driver probably didn't know the area all that well, and that he had actually dropped us 10 miles away from the meeting point. So 2.5 hours later, after getting lost and hearing some rather intrusive comments from some extremely old ladies, we arrived at the pub, only to see our very worried team mates who had already called the police. It wasn't funny then, but I'm laughing as I write it!

Several years later (more precisely last summer) I found Lawrence Dallaglio in a club in the Algarve, in the south of Portugal. I thought to myself "I actually have enough material to keep a conversation going for about 2.5 minutes, by just telling him that I'm also called Lourenco and that we both played for Kingston Uni." Maybe I would even get to the story above. Well, I regret it till this day, but I didn't have it in me to approach him, and being probably one of his biggest fans in Portugal, it is a mistake I will keep regretting.

Well I hope you like my little tale, and Lawrence, if you can, please confirm that it was actually you in that club in Portugal last summer (I had had a few drinks!!!)

[bigmike44]

Remember the olden days, when we used to see fans rush down on the field after the matches? I've got a story that harkens back to those times...

At nineteen, and having completed my five month backpacking trip across Europe, I settled down with the 'rellies' in a small England town, had a manual labour job and played for the local club, Bridgnorth RFC on weekends. For a Canadian boy, it was as authentic a rugby experience as one could hope to have.

As an added bonus, my cousin procured two tickets to a Five Nations (it was still five back then) match between England and Wales, at Twickenham, and off we went that Saturday, on the train, enjoying pints along the way. I watched a Will Carling-led England team beat Wales that day in the Mecca of all rugby stadiums.

Not only that, but after the match, I took the opportunity to run down onto the pitch, a practice unheard of nowadays I'm sure, and actually plucked a handful of Twickenham grass from the field and brought it home to Canada with me at the end of my time in England.

I'd like to say that the grassy sample - pure gold, mind you - was planted at the local rugby club here, and the dominant Twickenham strain of grass actually overcame the native variety, and that the local club has a field of Twickenham grass on it. I'd like to say that...

Sadly, at nineteen, I was a little naive and fearful of border authorities as I re-entered Canada, and declared my "agricultural product" at the border, and it was promptly taken from me...

I do have a photograph of me standing on the Twickenham grass, as well as my ticket stub, and will always remember that day. It was a great rugby experience. Thanks.

[BabyDougie]

Here's a story from the Manu Samoa team. Remember I heard this story from one of my lecturers in University and I have heard it so many times from other former Manu Samoa players during drinking session.

The Manu Samoa were playing the Springboks in the late 90's and it was a very one sided game. The Springboks continue on scoring tries after the other and the Samoan captain keeps on telling the boys while standing under the post waiting for the conversion to be ferocious.

"Boys after this conversion, then be FEROCIOUS!"

Two minutes after the last conversion, another Springboks try and the captain continue's on reminding the players to "Be FEROCIOUS".

Now the score was 60+ points to Springboks and the Samoan captain looked up at the time it was 2 more minute of play and he was raising his voice to the boys "C'mon Uso....Be FEROUCIOUS, its the last play BE FEROCIOUS" and all of a sudden a local Manu Samoa player was standing in the circle of players yelling back at the captain "Hey Skipper, What number is Ferocious wearing....tell me his number and I will go and tackle him"

All this time players thought Be Ferocious was a player...so here we go that's an inside story of the Manu Samoa game against South Africa which South Africa thrashed Samoa but the Samoan did perfrom well but the score board wasn't on there side.

[rugbjoern]

I'd like to share my story from the youth championship in my country, from earlier this fall. I joined the local club this spring, after having a session in during my schools gym class. It was some touch rugby league variant, but I was hooked anyway.

The cup was going to be held in the end of September, in a town a few hours drive from here. I got to play loosehead and I was very proud. We only had two substitutes with us, but some of the teams could not muster a full 10/12 man side so they had to borrow players from other clubs. On the first day we got to play three games, and our hooker fractured his nose in the first maul of the cup - so he couldnt play anymore that day. Instead we brought our winger to play hooker, since he was the only one who knew how to throw in the lineout and how to hook. Needless to say we lost all 3 games on our first day with a large margin. Most of us had only played a friendly against a foreign club that season.

The first game we did loose, but we were playing much better even though we slept in a classroom with ~25 people in it. In the second game of the day we got to play another three games. Our scrumhalf and captain was struck by a knee and had a concussion, so we were down to 13 players again. During our last game we were in the lead with 17-10 in the halftime, and the time was running out. Their flyhalf kicked into touch with about a minute to go, and then we won the ball in the lineout, but it was knocked on later. We scrummed up, lost the put in, the scrumhalf passed it to the blindside who sidestepped our guy on the wing...

We lost all our games but the last one, which was a tie, but still we were full of pride. Scores from the last year were embarrasing - 50 - 0 was not an uncommon score in former cups.

The cameraderie was great, and the spirits were high as we went back to our home town, flags high.

Also, the girls team who went with us was formed a few months earlier - they played very well and won the Fair Play trophy of their bracket.

I was bitten by the rugger bug about 7 months ago, and I think it's stinger is still stuck in my head.

[Kirbz]

While on tour in Lille, Northern France, we fancied a night out in town after a hard day's rugby and beer swilling. Some had already fallen by the wayside but about 15 hit a local bar, now sampling local wines by the bottle. We duely began to bellow out choruses of 'Jeruselam' and 'God Save the Queen'. I lead some rugby songs and we were having a good laugh.

It was getting late (or should I say early?) and only about half a dozen of us were left still singing. I left briefly to use the loo and I came back to find that one of the tour virgins - who was doing well to still be out with us - had started off a rendition of "Father Abraham" in my absense. He had never seen it done tour style and so we went along with it. We reached the end of the ordinary verses and the next call was "Clothes off, pants down!". The six of us left in the bar immediately removed every article of clothing and continued the song/dance on the table tops of this terrace bar to the horror of our virgin friend.

Things were great up untill a patrole of French Police rounded the corner of the street. Needless to say there was a great deal of scrambling for pants and the like on spotting our unwanted company. I had been doing and french translation/speaking needed on the tour up to this point as I actually speak french having studied it at A Level and spent quite a lot of time in France. I was thrust into the midst of the police by my team-mates, still putting my trousers back on and waited to be clamped in handcuffs.

I had already decided that if they asked for anyone to be taken responsible I would send the virgin with them but instead they just looked at me.
"Est-ce qu'il y a un probleme?" (Is there a problem?) I asked - trying to play it cool. When the policeman at the front of the group asked why we were naked, dancing on tables in the middle of a town centre bar?! I was stumped and without even thinking, without even really knowing it, something just splurted out of my mouth in french. I told him that we were a Swedish Volleyball team and that it was a tradition for us, we had not meant to offend anyone and we were very sorry.

Following the utter tripe that had just spilled from my mouth there was what felt like an age of anxious silence while the police looked at eachother. I was certain that we would be spending the night with the Gendarmarie.The policeman then turned to me and said that he had been to Sweeden the previous year on holiday, how it was beautiful. He realised how liberal it is tehe and we should put our clothes back on and walk in the directionthe he had just come from! I told the boys and we swiftly moved on, not knowing what would await us. We rounded the corner only to find that he had sent us to the local Strip Club!!!

A tour I will deffinitely NEVER forget!