I stood up on my kitchen counter so all of the 80+ people who were crammed into my house could see me well. I had just received a letter that would change my life forever. I slowly opened the letter and started to read. Then in an instant my greatest desire and my greatest horror came to fruition all at once as I read the words, "You are assigned to labor in the Japan, Kobe Mission." Japan? How was I supposed to handle that. I took two years of Japanese in high school and my grades were lackluster to say the least. I had dreamed of going to Japan since I was a little kid, but now that it was soon to be a reality, I wasn't sure I wanted that anymore.
I grew up in a church where the young men and women can choose to go away from home for two years to teach people about Christ. While this is a challenge, many people get to experience different cultures, languages and increase their understanding of the world around them. I had always loved Japan, and I was excited to go, but two years? In a country where I would probably never be able to fully speak the language? No thanks.
Because of my dad's overwhelming assurance that I would be close to fluent by the end of the mission, I worked harder than anyone and when it came down to it, I finally realized that I wouldn't be half fluent by the end of the two years. But luckily, I found another language I was fairly fluent in and I had a great love of studying, sports.
I am wildly obsessed with sports, particularly new ones. Growing up in a small town where football reigns supreme and the baseball players are the only ones with girlfriends, at least during ball season, I had never heard of rugby until I got to Japan. But when I got to my first area where I was called to live for the next few months, I wound up seeing some kids playing what looked like football, except it looked somehow way cooler. I asked my companion what that game was and he smiled, "rugby, we'll play that with the rest of the missionaries tomorrow."
It was the butt crack of dawn when I was first passed the ball. The light was still dim, but missionaries were early risers. I gripped the ball tightly and ran forward, not quite sure what to do. A missionary who looked like a pro forward for the Hurricanes, we called him Samuela, came barreling at me. I wasn't sure what to do so I took the hit. His shoulder dropped and he plowed into my stomach, I held tight onto the ball but evidently, didn't hold onto much of my breakfast. In slow motion it had to look like something from a cartoon. Me, folded in hald like a wallet around this massive Samoan's shoulders, half-digested pancake flying out of me as I was knocked back 15 feet.
I was in love.
It didn't take long for me to come into contact with one of the forwards on the Japan National Team. These guys were huge. Forget everything you know about a stereotypical Japanese person, these rugby players were freaks of nature. I adored them. I knew that finding rugby at age 20 for the first time would leave me at a disadvantage, but I wanted to be like them regardless.
I met Shota Horie on a train in Kyoto. He was just there visiting, but the massive Japanese rugger was eager to meet an American fan. We talked about rugby for the duration of the ride and he told me he'd keep in touch. He didn't. But despite that, somehow he still helped to deepen my love of rugby.
Japan is a place that few take seriously in the world of rugby, but they were slated to host the 2019 rugby world cup. I was ecstatic as I watched each game Japan played with a hawk-like focus. I can't describe the thrill that I was able to have as I watched these rugby players I looked up to so much go undefeated for the pool stages. The first time that has ever happened for a non-tier-one country. I cried profusely as they lost to the Springboks in the quarter-finals, and I obsessed over the following Japan league season right up until COVID-19 wrecked the sporting world.
When I tell people that the reason I am so obsessively fueled by rugby is because of my experience with it in Japan, they seem confused. I can't describe the love I found for rugby in any way other than a land that has a part of my heart, holds such a great portion only because of the sport that is so loved by these people I love and miss so much. I don't know what your story with rugby is, but whatever it is, I hope that you'll continue to make me a part of your journey. Because rugby can be found in even the most hopeless places.
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