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Johnny nodded.
“Unlucky for some,” I mused.
“Not for me,” he shot back with a grin.
“And there goes your opportunity to feign modesty.”
“There’s no point,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug. “I am what I am and I make no apologies for it.” He lightly tapped the pen against my nose. “Now, concentrate.”
So, I did.
“You have your forwards: numbers one to eight. So, that’s your two props, two flankers, your hooker, your two locks, and your number eight. These guys are usually the biggest, heaviest players,” he explained as he scribbled little notes.
Johnny’s handwriting was surprisingly neat for a guy, small, unjoined, and easy to read.
I banked that snippet of information in my mind for safekeeping.
“And then you have your backs,” he announced, drawing my attention back to him. “Numbers nine to fifteen. That’s your scrum half, fly half, your two centers, two wingers, and your full back. They’re the smaller, lighter, and generally faster players on the team.” With a contented sigh, he waved a hand in front of the page. “And there you have it: the fifteen positions that make up a rugby team.”
“So, these guys are the forwards?” I asked, pointing to the numbers 1 to 8.
Johnny nodded. “Exactly.”
“Like in soccer?”
“No, not like in soccer,” he practically choked on the words, appalled. “Nothing like soccer.”
“Gaelic?”
“No,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Hurling?”
“What? No! Stop talking.” Flustered, he ran a hand through his hair and growled. “Forget about other sports for a while and just listen.”
“You weren’t such a bossy teacher the other night,” I grumbled.
“And you weren’t such a trying student then, either,” he retorted, tapping the pen against the notepad. “Now, focus.” Exhaling a frustrated breath, he said, “In rugby, the backs are positioned behind the forwards at the start of play. That’s the norm. That’s how it’s played.”
“So, all these guys here form the scrum?” I asked pointing to the numbers 1 to 8. “The forwards?” Frowning, I added, “And they bind, set, and engage with the other team when the referee calls for a scrum?”
“Yes,” he agreed, nodding encouragingly.
“What’s a bind?” I asked, thinking back to what Claire, Helen, and Shelly had told me about the sixth-year girls having a competition about binding him.
“Binding is when your front row connects with the opposition’s front row,” Johnny explained.
“Like smashing together?” I asked. “Connecting by force?”
“It’s a little more complicated and technical than that, but yeah,” he replied, scrunching his nose up at the thought. “For the sake of our lesson, let’s just call it that.”
I frowned at the notion, not finding it one bit enticing, before asking, “And the scrum half throws the ball into the scrum?”
“Exactly.”
“And the ball has to be played backwards and behind the players at all times? A forward pass or throw results in a penalty?”
“Yes.” His eyes lit up. “That’s really good, Shannon.”
