In search of heroes

When people speak of heroes, we use the contemporary meaning - those in service to others - police, firefighters, military service people, doctors, and teachers. Selflessness in action.

For today's post, I'm speaking more of the Joseph Campbell type of hero.
Mythic. Larger than life. Perhaps unreal.

Most of the great stories have a hero at the center. In today's terms that's Luke Skywalker, Indiana Jones, Harry Potter, Superman.
We are drawn to these figures for their ability to rise above the normal, to take on a task that sane people would pull back from.  

Rugby players, like many sports figures, are larger than life as well.
For some reason they go willingly into an endeavor that will almost certainly get them thrown to the ground. Pummeled. Repeatedly. Beyond caution.
They can take this on because they spent countless hours learning to do this safely, or, at least, to minimize the risk. Spontaneous contact in the loose. Choreographed contact in the scrum.

Unlike the solo heros like Superman, they are social beings, accepting that they must bind themselves to others, that they cannot work alone, but must learn their role in the greater assembly of the team. So they spend more time learning the work of cohesive action, working together.

They learn obedience to a hierarchy, that of the on-pitch playmaker, the captain, the coaches, and, above all else, the officials.
Especially the refs. Yes, sir, No, sir. No backtalk, no whining.

All of this applies to any organized sport.
But there is an extra dimension to rugby.
Respect.

You respect other players, helping novice players become better.
You respect the coaches with preparation and timeliness.
You respect your opponent - if you didn't have a worthy opponent, you wouldn't have an epic contest.
You respect the officials; their knowledge of the Laws keeps players safe and provides a fair match.

This creates a code where you can play hard without the danger of real violence.
You thank the opponents for a good game.
You knock someone down then give them a hand back up.
Bloody someone's nose, then wait for them to get cleaned up.

And afterwards, everyone goes out, together, for a beer. Without fear that the passion and intensity of the pitch will ignite in the pub.

It sounds like stories of the knights of old - be responsible for your own skill, don't take advantage, help people less gifted. Play fair.

Mature men. Adults. In control.

Is that a bad thing?

Maybe there's a reason we still tell stories of the Knights of the Round Table.
Or the Lafayette Escadrille. Or Jedi knights.

For now, I'm enjoying the efforts of high schoolers looking to become men (sorry, ladies), college players looking to become adults and club players believing in a dream outside themselves, all while dealing with real life.

Because I don't see a whiner in the group.
I see people who work hard in college, who move across countries to play this role.
For no guaranteed monetary gain.

I'm in.