All Captains

Surname	First names	Known by
Fitzsimmons	Edward Neil	Neil	view
Fitzsimons	Sean Damien		view
Flanagan	John Christopher		view
Flavell	Troy Vandem		view
Fleming	Michael James	Mike	view
Fletcher	Shane Henry		view
Fletcher	Tenaija V		view
Flynn	Aaron Christopher		view
Flynn	Corey Robert		view
Flynn	Peter Grant		view
Fogarty	Peter Francis		view
Foote	Neil Michael William		view
Forbes	Derek Jamie	D J	view
Ford	Patrick Michael	Paddy	view
Forster	Stuart Thomas	Stu	view
Forsyth	Wallace Neil	Wally	view
Foster	Ian Douglas		view
Foster	Jessica E-M		view
Foster	Michael Anthony		view
Foster	Toby Jay		view
Fougere	Christian Peter	Chris	view
Fowler	Chelsea M		view
Fox	Antony James		view
Fox	Barry Leslie		view
Fox	Grant James		view
Fraser	Douglas Glen	Glen	view
Fraser	Rammon George	Ray	view
Free	Steven Alfred	Steve	view
Frew	Warren Bruce		view
Fry	Peter Stephenson		view
Funaki	Solomone S		view
Funnell	Benjamin Camden John	Ben	view
Gaby-Sutherland	Ashlee J		view
Gago	Grace Leaso Florence		view
Gammie	Samuel Gavin	Sam	view
Gard	Philip Charles	Phil	view
Gardiner	Ashley John	Ash	view
Gardiner	Barry Robert		view
Gardner	Hadley Benjamin		view
Gatland	Bryn E C		view

Endorsement

When the battle scars have faded
And the truth becomes a lie
And the weekend smell of liniment
Could almost make you cry.
When the last rucks well behind you
And the man that ran now walks
It doesn’t matter who you are
The mirror sometimes talks
Have a good hard look old son!
The melons not that great
The snoz that takes a sharp turn sideways
Used to be dead straight
You’re an advert for arthritis
You’re a thoroughbred gone lame
Then you ask yourself the question
Why the hell you played the game?
Was there logic in the head knocks?
In the corks and in the cuts?
Did common sense get pushed aside?
By manliness and guts?
Do you sometimes sit and wonder
Why your time would often pass
In a tangled mess of bodies
With your head up someone’s......?
With a thumb hooked up your nostril
Scratching gently on your brain
And an overgrown Neanderthal
Rejoicing in your pain!
Mate – you must recall the jersey
That was shredded into rags
Then the soothing sting of Dettol
On a back engraved with tags!
It’s almost worth admitting
Though with some degree of shame
That your wife was right in asking
Why the hell you played the game?
Why you’d always rock home legless
Like a cow on roller skates
After drinking at the clubhouse
With your low down drunken mates
Then you’d wake up – check your wallet
Not a solitary coin
Drink Berocca by the bucket
Throw an ice pack on your groin
Copping Sunday morning sermons
About boozers being losers
While you limped like Quasimodo
With a half a thousand bruises!
Yes – an urge to hug the porcelain
And curse Sambuca’s name
Would always pose the question
Why the hell you played the game!
And yet with every wound re-opened
As you grimly reminisce it
Comes the most compelling feeling yet
God, you bloody miss it!
From the first time that you laced a boot
And tightened every stud
That virus known as rugby
Has been living in your blood
When you dreamt it when you played it
All the rest took second fiddle
Now you’re standing on the sideline
But your hearts still in the middle
And no matter where you travel
You can take it as expected
There will always be a breed of people
Hopelessly infected
If there’s a teammate, then you’ll find him
Like a gravitating force
With a common understanding
And a beer or three, of course
And as you stand there telling lies
Like it was yesterday old friend
You’ll know that if you had the chance
You’d do it all again
You see – that’s the thing with rugby
It will always be the same
And that, I guarantee
Is why the hell you played the game!

By Rupert McCall

Credit: Sutton & Epsom Bs

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