The Shammies

It wasn't so much ecstasy as relief, as I ambled across the car park at TG Milner Field, Eastwood. Kit bag draped over the shoulder and beer in hand. I made my way toward the sheds, to remove my Petersham RUFC jersey for the last time. This time, a Kentwell Cup winning jersey. Others opted to keep the sweat sodden jersey on their person until the schooners stopped flowing at some time on Monday. I applaud that.

Some twenty to thirty minutes earlier the referee had blown full time, to end Drummoyne's hopes of a Lazarus like comeback. Our pace, precision and points in the latter stages of the first half had flipped the final on it's head and were ultimately sufficient to secure victory. The pitch, itself a little dusty and in need of rest,  was swiftly usurped by Maroon and Blue, some faces familiar, others I didn't recognise. All unified by a passion for Petersham RUFC, and an overwhelming sense of pride in what the club had achieved - not only the Kentwell Cup Premiership, but also the Barbour Cup (Colts), Bruce Graham Shield (Club Champions) and Cowboy Cup (Inter-Divisional Club Champions). In hindsight, perhaps the elation on the faces of the 2nd and 3rd graders, who had lost their respective finals, was the perfect personification of why this club is great. 

The success of the club in the 2017 season was far from a coincidence. A talented group of players, well coached, well managed - and that's just the surface. Of course, like most successes the visible is underpinned by the invisible. That is, the Shammies who are grafting for the club whilst the likes of myself are still sipping their morning coffee, and still grafting as afternoon turns to dusk and the rest of us crack the second tin of VB. 

My own collision course with Petersham was far more coincidental.

In late Feb 2016, having enjoyed my inaugural Sydney summer, and avoided enough of pre season. I took to google to locate the closest rugby club, which was...you guessed it. With such a selection criteria, it's lucky I didn't opt to live in Balmain! I sent a message via Facebook, and was soon on the phone to Taff, who sold the club to me. Training on Tuesday and Thursday and Saturday is game day. Saturday is a rugby day. No change there.

Prior to moving to Sydney, I had spent the previous 3 seasons with Ruthin Rugby Club in North Wales. A club I first played played for as a ten year old, a community club - lads who have grown up together, went to the same school and who love turning up and representing their town. I soon realised that Petersham was different. There wasn't that community affiliation, the origin of the playing group was diverse - Welsh, Irish, Scots, English, Kiwis, Tongans, Samoans, Fijians and even a couple of Aussies for good measure.

As a competitor, you always want to win the game on Saturday, regardless of the badge on your chest. However, understanding the badge and what it represents can give you a confrontational edge. I recall sitting in the sheds prior to my first encounter with bitter rivals, Balmain. Two blokes, introduced as Lenny and Dunny, had been asked to come in and speak to a first grade side, many of whom were like me - in their debut season, about what the club meant to them. Listening to them speak, it clicked. The nomadic nature of those involved with the club was it's biggest strength. The club was the community. It didn't matter so much where you had come from, if you were willing to chuck on the Maroon and Blue hoops and run it straight on a concrete like cricket square then you were a part of it. Boy, I won't miss that cricket square. 

Being successful was evidently a motivation for the Shammies, and the successes of 2017 were very much the manifestation of that ambition. But, I don't think reigning victorious defines the club, at least not from my experience. I always loved a yarn with Richard Harvey on a Saturday afternoon, always precluded by a firm handshake, of course. Listening to him, I always sensed a fondness for the club that was rooted in the bonds of friendship that grew from victory, defeat and tour. 

To all those I encountered during my time with Petersham RUFC, you were all wonderful credits to your locality, wherever that may be. I thank you. 

To anyone who might stumble across this blog, if you looking to play some rugby football in Sydney, get in touch with Petersham, get yourself down to Camperdown Oval. It doesn't matter the standard or when you last donned a pair of boots, becoming a Shammy will enhance your Sydney experience. That I guarantee. Jeez, I loved it.