Honestly, I got hooked on rugby kinda by accident. It wasn’t some grand plan, really. Was just flipping channels one lazy Sunday afternoon years back, nothing good on as usual, and stumbled onto this game. Bodies crashing, mud everywhere, absolute chaos, but weirdly beautiful chaos. Saw Seamus Deely making this insane tackle, got up grinning like a maniac, covered in filth. That image stuck with me. Thought, “Man, that looks brutal… but kinda fun?”
So, How Did Seamus Deely Start Anyway?
Digging into his story felt a bit like detective work, hunting down old interviews and club records. Turns out, the start wasn’t fancy.
- Total Club Kid: Didn’t burst onto the scene. Started playing proper rugby in his local club’s youth setup when he was just a kid. No academies, no scouts early on. Just turning up for practice with the neighborhood gang.
- School Ball First: Apparently played Gaelic football for his school before rugby took over. Common story! That background gave him insane agility and footwork though, you can see it in how he moves.
- The Hard Graft: Kept hearing the same thing: relentless. Rain, mud, freezing cold – he was there. Practicing basic skills way after everyone else packed up. No magic shortcut. Club coach saw that grind and pushed him harder.
- Break? Nah, Bit of Luck & Being Ready: Got a shot filling in for an injured player on a slightly better junior team, maybe U18s? Smashed it. Wasn’t ‘discovered,’ he was already doing the work and got a chance because he was fit, knew his role, and didn’t screw up the basics. Did the simple stuff perfectly under pressure.
Right, My Own Totally Glamorous Start Attempt
After reading about Deely, figured I’d give it a proper go myself. Found the oldest, muddiest local club advertising ‘New Players Welcome’. Swallowed my pride (and fear), showed up.
Step 1: Walk On & Feel Like a Fool. First training? Jesus. A bunch of absolute units jogging laps, me wheezing behind, looking like I’d never run before. They were tossing balls like tennis balls, I fumbled catching mine like it was covered in grease. Instant respect for how easy pros make it look. Pure embarrassment fuel.
Step 2: Learn the Painful Way. Basics first, thank god. Tackle bag drills. Felt like running into a brick wall. Coach yelling “Get low! Drive!” Yeah, easy for him to say! Did it again. And again. And again. Next day, bruises everywhere. Good bruises, though. The kind that makes you feel like you did something real.
Step 3: Actually Play (Sorta). First ‘game’ was a controlled scrimmage with other newbies. Utter confusion. Ran the wrong way once. Forgot if I was attack or defense. Got steamrolled by someone twice my size trying to make a tackle I had zero business attempting. Loved every chaotic second of it. Got up grinning. Covered in mud. Felt weirdly familiar.
My Super Honest Tips for Any New Player (Based on Screwing Up)
Forget complex strategies for now. Based on my stumbles and seeing what works:
- Seriously, Just Show Up. Sounds dumb, right? But consistency is everything. Turn up to training, even when you’re sore, tired, or it’s pouring rain. Like Deely. Clubs notice the guys who keep coming back. That’s half the battle won.
- Don’t Be Shy, Be Clueless. Ask the stupid questions. “Where do I stand here?” “How do I bind in this scrum?” Nobody expects you to know. They do expect you to ask so you don’t mess things up for everyone else later.
- Cheap Gear is Fine, Comfort Isn’t. You don’t need top-end boots and kit day one. But get decent gumshield – your teeth will thank you. And damn gloves! Those fancy fingerless ones? Worth every penny when it’s cold and wet, helps you hold onto that slippery ball.
- Fitness Hurts Less Than Being Useless. Being able to run for 30 mins and not collapse makes practice suck WAY less. Doesn’t have to be Olympic level, just don’t be the one always bent over gasping. Makes learning easier.
- Get Smashed, Laugh, Have a Beer. Yeah, you’ll get tackled hard. Maybe run into someone by accident. It happens. Don’t take it personally. Laugh about it later. Rugby culture post-match is half the fun – grab a cheap beer with your new teammates. Breaks down barriers fast.
Bottom line? Seamus Deely’s path wasn’t glamorous. Mine sure as hell wasn’t. It’s grind, mud, learning you’re not as tough as you thought, then finding out you’re tougher than you knew. Start small, stick with it, laugh at the mess, and just keep getting your butt out there. That’s the real secret. Now excuse me, I need an ice bath.
