The Pitch of Dreams
Yesterday, I made a trip down to Western Chester County to watch some rugby. Dumb me, I made the mistake of heading down Route 30 through the very heart of what makes Lancaster County distasteful. Outlet shopping malls adorned with logos of Amish Buggies (Rockvale) and Grain Silos (Tanger). Odd mixing of crass commercialism and the rural nature of the county. I had thought of going another route, but in the end, it would have taken me the same amount of time however East I went, due to lower speed limits on less traveled roads and the like. I played rugby for a club in West Chester back in the day called Brandywine. It is the 30th anniversary of the team so I thought it would be fun to catch up with any of the guys still around from two decades ago. Old rugby players never die, they just can't walk after a while. The game is very punishing physically, and the half-life for participation should be about two to three years. As it was, I played six seasons. Three for Brandywine a