Cardinals Rugby

This was originally intended as a simple introduction , so let me begin with that. I am Bill Brownley, I am a Cardinal rugby player, and I am tasked by the Cardinal's board with coordinating the Cardinals youth rugby initiative, which is in it's infancy.

I am a high school rugby coach, and I have a son who plays rugby, but I know there are many Cardinals with far more experience and knowledge than I have both in coaching and in youth rugby in general (Richard and Lex, Hennie and Terry, are you listening?). In this initial email, I would like to hear from everyone who is interested in being involved in our youth effort, in whatever way you want to be involved.

So consider yourself invited to join in. The simple part is over--read on at your peril.

I want to write to you guys about dreams, memories, legends and greatness.

Not so long ago, before I began playing with the Cardinals again, I can remember sitting at my desk and grinding out some necessary paperwork. It was a gray day outside, and much of my life seemed equally gray and grinding. It seemed to me that this was what being an adult was all about. Don't get me wrong--I had a good life, but at the time something seemed like it was missing--some thread of wildness or adventure that provided the bright colors and spices of life. Have you ever felt this way?

While I sat there, images started flowing through my mind. No, you dirty bastards, not that. I began remembering my days playing rugby. I remembered being 13 and playing in my first rugby game in Scotland. I remembered playing at Virginia, with Lance V, and Mike Puopolo, and against John Carr and Mike Olds. I remembered playing for PAC in Washington D.C. with Mike Green, and for CIYMS in Belfast in Northern Ireland, and for James River in Richmond with Terry Byrd, Lin Farmer and Pat Flippen. Just having those memories put a little sunshine back in my day, and made my step a little lighter.

A year or so later, Mike Puopolo and Terry Whelan dragged me out to Aspen in 2002. I played rugby again, and man, it was like somebody turned the lights on again! We won the tournament, and although on that day we were called the Sons of Beaches, on that day the Cardinals were born. Johnny Ellis--if you are reading this, thanks more than I can say--I owe you a lot.

I am getting to make rugby dreams again, and play with some of the best men in the world. That would be you guys. I also get to have rugby dreams of the future again--the Cardinals inspired me to coach, and inspired my son to play. A chapter in my life that I thought was long closed opened again. I have new brothers, and I will not name you all--but I will not forget you.

Rugby players are often seen wearing a shirts bearing the slogan "For he that shares his blood with me today shall be my brother". This comes from the "St. Crispins Day" speech Henry V makes to his English army before they go to fight the French who vastly outnumber them at the battle of Agincourt. This is more of the speech:

We would not die in that man’s company That fears his fellowship to die with us. This day is call’d the feast of Crispian. He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam’d, And rouse him at the name of Crispian. He that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, And say “To-morrow is Saint Crispian.” Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say “These wounds I had on Crispian’s day.” Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot, But he’ll remember, with advantages, What feats he did that day. Then shall our names, Familiar in his mouth as household words- Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester- Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb’red. This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered- We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition; And gentlemen in England now-a-bed Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

Rugby players treat matches and tournaments just like this. We all remember, we all show our scars, we tell our sons, we remember the names--and ours are remembered too. We are the happy few. We are the band of brothers.

Brothers, youth rugby is our chance to pass on this gift, these dreams, and this chance to make their own legends to others. One day, we will all be gone--but rugby will still be here. We can give this gift to others, but in the giving we will also receive a gift.

If we can build youth rugby, they will play long after us. They will play for the Cardinals long after we are gone, and ensure the Cardinals last as well. The gift will be given back to us and we shall be remembered.

And that is how you build legends that last.

So--if you can--help us create dreams, and build legends. Let's dare to be great.

BillBrownley@aol.com