Dear Gilbert
Questions, dilemmas and occasional rugby-related chaos
Gilbert reads every letter — probably.
The letters. The advice. Make of it what you will.
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Our coach clearly has favourites. The same players start every week. The same players get praised. The same players seem able to make mistakes without consequences. Meanwhile, the rest of us spend Saturday wondering whether we're actually competing for a place or just making up the numbers. Before you ask, yes, I am currently on the bench. Am I being unreasonable?
Dear Bench Warmer.
Probably.
But here's something your coach understands that you don't yet.
This is a 23-player game. The starting XV sets it up. The finishers win it. Nobody calls them substitutes anymore. There's a reason for that. You have two choices. Spend the season resenting the starting XV. Or become the player your coach sends on at sixty minutes specifically to ruin somebody else's afternoon. One of those options requires considerably less energy.
— Gilbert -
My partner doesn't play rugby and I don't think she understands why it takes over my life. Training twice a week. Matches on Sundays. Team socials. Endless WhatsApp messages. Apparently every story I tell now starts with, "One of the girls from rugby..." Last week she asked why I couldn't just treat it like a normal hobby. I didn't have an answer. Why does rugby become such a big thing?
Dear All or Nothing
Because it isn't a hobby.
Knitting is a hobby.
Collecting stamps is a hobby.
Rugby is an administrative condition that gradually acquires complete control of your calendar.
Your partner is looking at the hours.
You are looking at the people.
That's the difference.
The problem is that rugby players are terrible at explaining this. Ask one why they keep turning up and they'll start talking about line-outs before wandering off entirely.
Try telling the truth.
You like the game.
You love the people.
And occasionally you'd quite like a weekend that doesn't involve driving to somewhere called Market Deeping in the rain.
That's usually enough.
— Gilbert
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My best friend and I play on the same team. Three months ago we had an argument. Neither of us has apologised. We still train together twice a week. We still stand next to each other during drills. We still travel to away games. We just don't really speak. At this point I'm not even sure what we're angry about anymore. Any advice?
Dear Stubborn.Yes.
Grow up.
You've managed to turn a disagreement into a long-term infrastructure project.
Three months.
Do you know how many things rugby players can argue about in three months?
Selection. Training. Kit. Captains. Coaches. Parking.
You could have had six new disagreements by now.
Instead you've committed to the original one.
Impressive dedication.
Send the message.
Not a paragraph.
Not an essay.
Not a carefully crafted statement approved by legal counsel.
Just:
"Fancy a coffee?"
If she says no, you've learned something.
If she says yes, you'll both discover you've wasted an extraordinary amount of time.
— Gilbert
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I've been playing for two seasons. Everyone else seems to be improving faster than me. I still miss tackles. I still make mistakes. I still occasionally have absolutely no idea what's happening. Lately I've started wondering whether I'm actually any good at rugby. I'm thinking about quitting.
Dear Permanent Beginner.Excellent.
You've reached the stage where you finally understand rugby.
The players who think they're brilliant are usually the ones causing the most paperwork for everyone else.
You've been playing for two years.
That's not experience.
That's an introduction.
The good news is that nobody remembers your mistakes as much as you do.
The bad news is that they remember some of them.
But that's rugby.
You make a mistake.
You get up.
You do it again.
Then one day somebody newer arrives and starts making exactly the same mistakes.
And suddenly you're the experienced player.
Annoying, isn't it?
— Gilbert
“Got a problem you think I can’t handle? You can write to me below”