A rugby limerick

She once played position of hooker.
A friend out of context mistook her:
told people “she’s a whore”,
which they had to deplore,
except one who wanted to book her!

Almost a true story: when I first went to University, weighing less than 50kg, I thought the sport best suited to me would be rugby. I tried out and was selected for the team (many thinking I was more of a mascot than a real player). The spare position I needed to fill was hooker, which was not an obvious match to my physical attributes (I surely looked more like a fly-half), and was somewhat unfortunate in its name. On one visit home for a celebratory pub dinner, my friend’s sister, who knows little about rugby, muddled her terms and loudly announced to the group that I’d gone off to University and become a whore. A very awkward silence ensued, except for me shouting “hooker – rugby – hooker, not whore”. Thankfully, no one actually propositioned me! In the end, I did an okay job, and even made “woman of the match”, and buried somewhere, I still have a cutting from the local newspaper declaring me “Bangor’s new hooker”!

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