My First Ball

Every sports fan has an experience with sentiment. Whether it be a team you love regardless of their performance or a special rookie card you acquired of your favorite player. Stuff like this has a huge impact on us. For me, my most prized possession is a ball. Signed by nobody, worn to the point where it doesn't hold 10 psi for longer than 5 minutes. Its a ball that would be lucky to go for $5 on eBay. But to me, this ball means everything.

When I was living in Japan, I had my first serious introduction to rugby. Japan is a huge rugby nation. Which was surprising to me. Growing up occasionally seeing a rugby game in passing or watching movies like "Forever Strong," I always assumed you had to be huge and dense to play rugby successfully. Despite the stereotype of Japanese people being small, those little dudes had a bone-crushing national team that has taken down huge rugby nations like South Africa, England, Scotland, and Ireland.

As my curiosity in this brutal sport grew, I asked one of my friends to teach me how to play. We gathered a crew and started a game. Then, the first time I ever touched a rugby ball, I received a pass and immediately was knocked back 20 feet by a Polynesian mountain of a man. I was hooked. Rugby immediately became the force that seemed to pump the blood through my veins. I loved it.

Years later, I tracked down that friend who taught me how to play and asked him if he still had that ball. I gave him some money and he shipped it to me the next day. Now that ball holds a proud position in my office. Despite how tattered and faded it is, it is of more worth to me than my $150 dollar pro match ball. Not because of its actual value (less than $20 in its prime,) but because that was the ball that taught me what it was like to be a rugger.