There are a lot of choices in life.

Some are big and obvious such as where you live, what you do for work, and your friends. Some are smaller choices that don’t seem like much at the time, but end up quietly shaping who you become.

And then there’s rugby.

Because let’s be honest… most of us didn’t “choose” rugby the first time unless you grew up in the sport around a parent that played. Many people stumble into it. We got dragged out by a friend. Showed up because we were looking for something different. It looked curiously fun and challenging. We needed a reason to get in shape. We wanted a community. 

But once rugby gets its hooks in you, it becomes a choice that you keep making over and over again.

You choose it on cold Tuesday nights when the wind is cutting through the pitch and your bed is calling your name.
You choose it when you’re sore, bruised, tired, and your body is begging for rest.
You choose it when the season gets chaotic.
You choose it when the club needs help.
You choose it when the new person shows up looking nervous and you remember what it felt like to be the new player.

You choose rugby when the novelty wears off and what is left is commitment. That’s what makes it different. Rugby isn’t just a sport you play. It’s something you decide to be part of. A lifestyle. A community.

Choose community.

Grassroots rugby isn’t driven by professional contracts, marketing budgets or a promise of fame. It’s built by beautiful, amazing, and dedicated people. Volunteers that line pitches, paint rusty goal posts, drag tackle bags out of trailers, and unlock gates. A board of exhausted but determined club leaders trying to keep things moving.

Players who show up early just to help set up cones. Veterans who stay late to coach rookies through the basics.

This is why rugby clubs are different from gyms, leagues, or casual rec teams. Rugby doesn’t just give you teammates, it gives you a tribe. When the season is over, you’re still a member of the club and sport. These are people who will show up for you, who will get on the road with you, who will celebrate you, and who will call you out when you need it.

A rugby club is one of the last places left where youth and adults can show up with nothing in common except a willingness to work and leave with lifelong friends. These types of spaces are dying and it is important that we preserve them. 

Choose belonging.

A lot of people are walking around right now without a real sense of belonging. Life has become one transaction after another. We’ve got “followers” and “likes,” but we’re sadly lacking real human connection. Our busy schedules prevent us from forming deep roots. There is a world full of noise and not enough actual community spaces that nurture people and connections.

Grassroots rugby offers something rare: a place to belong. 

Rugby welcomes people who don’t fit into other sports. Kids who were overlooked or cut by other sports. The late bloomers who thought they “missed their chance” to be an athlete. People who don’t fit one body type or personality. Someone that is looking to find themselves. 

There is a place for you in rugby. I promise. 

When you step into a rugby club, you realize that you don’t have to pretend anymore. You can just be you, flaws and all. All that is asked of you is to maintain the core values and ethos of the sport. 

Integrity. Passion. Solidarity. Discipline. Respect.

Choose fitness.

Rugby will get you into shape whether you want it to or not. If you put in the effort, it is going to happen. Maybe not in the way that you expect though. Not in the “mirror muscles” or “beach abs” kind of way.

Rugby fitness is functional and confident. It is earned through sweat and effort. The difference between quitting and getting back up. 

I came into rugby later than most, but I was in excellent shape. Or so I thought. I learned real quick that there is a difference between being “fit” and being “rugby fit.” 

The real difference is learning to love discomfort because you know it’s building something inside you. I didn’t just find my stamina building, rugby tapped into something inside of me that simply wouldn’t let me quit. I could really go down that rabbit hole with this statement as that feeling it tapped is the same one that still won’t let me quit, even after multiple decades, hundreds of games played, and a growing list of injuries. 

From a fitness perspective, what I love the most about rugby is that there’s no hiding or shortcuts. 

Some of the most rewarding things that I have experienced in rugby involve people that would have been shunned from other sports. Rugby gave them a home despite their physical barriers. These people kept choosing rugby and the physical results came in time through perseverance and resiliency. 

Choose getting back up.

This is where rugby becomes more than a sport. Rugby teaches you the hardest lessons in the simplest way. You’re going to get knocked down and you’re going to have to get back up anyway. Just like in life. One of rugby’s greatest strengths is how lessons on the pitch translate to real life. 

You can’t fake your way through that. The world can be a tough place and it isn’t always fair. Rugby builds resiliency by challenging you at every turn. Just as you learn to push through your fatigue at the 70th minute, you learn to push through difficult moments in your life. You keep moving forward. 

Rugby also gives you a support system to face those challenges. The saying “with you” is more than just words. It is a credo and your teammates are there to support you on and off of the pitch. 

I won’t go as far as to say rugby “saved” me, but it came to me at a point in my life where I was looking for answers. It gave me an outlet to deal with aggression, stress, depression, and made me a better version of myself. I found my voice and developed leadership skills that translated well into my professional life. 

Choose muddy games.

There’s something beautiful about the chaos of grassroots rugby. One week it’s a perfectly sunny day and you’re playing on an immaculate pitch. The next week you’re grinding it out in a swamp with touchlines that look like they were drawn by someone still on the piss from the night before. 

But you still play, tackle, and laugh about it afterwards. Maybe you end up with a story that you’ll tell for years and years. That is the beauty of rugby. Grassroots rugby is full of moments that don’t make highlight reels, but they make legendary stories.

Embrace the beauty of imperfection. That is one of the most endearing parts of clubland. Each rugby club is unique in their own ways and should be appreciated for it. 

Choose the third half.

If you’ve played rugby, you’re nodding right now like, “Yes. Exactly.” 

The third half is where rugby becomes rugby. It’s where opponents become friends and any on the pitch grudges end. That special place where players convene to break bread, trade stories like currency, and build bonds that go beyond club colors. That’s the magic of rugby. 

In a time when sports culture often feels toxic, rugby has managed to hold onto something sacred. Sadly, I’ve seen this slip in some areas over the last decade. I see more animosity carried off of the pitch, fewer opposition players sticking around, less mingling at socials, doing the bare minimum when it comes to hospitality. 

This is the danger zone. We cannot let this change and must protect this culture. If we aren’t able to protect it, rugby becomes purely transactional and we will lose the soul of the sport.  

We need to compete hard on the pitch, put the egos away, and respect each other even harder.

Choose something bigger than yourself.

Rugby clubs don’t survive because they are well funded machines. They survive because people choose to carry the torch. People that play, coach, volunteer, donate, and grow the game. Please remember that every rugby club that you’ve ever been involved with exists because hard working people have poured love into it. 

They showed up when it certainly would have been easier to do something else. 

So, yeah.

Choose community.
Choose fitness.
Choose the banter.
Choose the muddy games.
Choose giving back.
Choose the lifelong friends.
Choose the stories.

Choose rugby.

And then keep choosing it.

In honor of International Volunteers Day, I wanted to take a moment to shine a little more light on all of the amazing volunteers out in clubland. If you spend enough time around grassroots rugby, you begin to notice something. There are a lot of ingredients that make a rugby club feel like home—the buzz of a Saturday at the grounds, the try-saving tackles, the post-match pints. The list is long, but chief among those ingredients are the volunteers. Those wildly dedicated, quietly heroic humans who show up early, stay late, and somehow keep the entire operation stitched together with nothing but passion, duct tape, and a belief that rugby can change lives.

Every club has them. You know exactly who they are the moment you read this. The coach who never meant to coach. The referee who stepped in “just this once” and is now in year seven. The person who somehow became the social media manager, match-day organizer, lawn mower, fundraiser, food-table wizard, and substitute touch judge all in the same season. Grassroots rugby is built on people who didn’t wait to be asked—they just rolled up their sleeves and got the job done.

Last week, we talked about the absolute truth that without the grassroots, rugby doesn’t exist. But let’s take it one step further: without volunteers, there are no clubs.

Volunteers are the first to arrive at the pitch, walking through dew-soaked grass to set flags, pump balls, and make sure the day even happens. They’re the ones hauling tents in the rain, keeping the books straight, and cleaning up after everyone else has gone home. They’re the ones who listen when a new player is nervous, when a parent has a question, or when a teammate needs a quiet moment on the sideline.

Volunteers are the glue—the steady hands that keep grassroots rugby from cracking under the weight of everything we ask it to be.

And what they give goes far beyond the tasks. They give heart. They create belonging. They build the culture that keeps people coming back long after the final whistle.

Think about this for a moment: most rugby clubs are, more or less, small businesses. They have customers, collect funds through memberships, sponsorships, events, and merchandise sales. Running a rugby club is a massive undertaking—just as complex as running any business. Except in most rugby clubs, the people running the show aren’t doing it for themselves. Every dollar raised goes right back into the club, because volunteers are handling duties that would otherwise require paid personnel.

Across the world, clubs run on people who fit jerseys, sweep clubhouses, drive carpools, run youth clinics, and answer emails at midnight. They give up weekends, family time, and bits of their sanity so that someone else gets a chance to fall in love with rugby.

And most of the time, they never ask for recognition. They’re thrilled if the jerseys are clean, the cones are straight, and someone remembered to bring ice.

Grassroots volunteers are often quick to take on a challenge and figure out how to make it happen later. I’ve seen it hundreds of times. At my club, we like to use the phrase “turning lemons into lemonade.” That’s what we do. We take less-than-ideal situations and turn them into something special so that our players, members, and fans can focus on enjoying rugby—often never knowing the obstacles that were navigated along the way.

When we say “grassroots,” we’re not talking about a level of rugby—we’re talking about an ecosystem. A living, breathing community held together by people who care. Volunteers are the connective tissue that keeps this sport alive, joyful, chaotic, and wonderfully human.

So today, to every volunteer: thank you. Thank you for the hours, the heart, the headaches, and the hope. Thank you for believing that rugby should be played, shared, and passed on. Thank you for being the glue—quiet, strong, and absolutely essential.

Grassroots rugby doesn’t just appreciate you.

It exists because of you.

I’ll be toasting in your honor tonight.