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Rugby For Dummies

By Musarrat Rahman

Rugby really looks like such a fun sport! The guys wear the shortest shorts available, they're toned and buff as heck so they look amazing in said short shorts. They have a rule that every rugby players must be gorgeous (think football players, but more muscular), so therefore, all the guys pushing each other and getting rough and manly on the field are eye-candy. It has also been referred to as the 'game of animals played by gentlemen' and we all know that brunettes prefer gentlemen. Do you need another reason to watch it?

It's got something for everyone. The men will love the rough-housing and the pushing because they're into random violence without actually being involved in the fight themselves and the women will have fun ogling the perfect David-like creatures for ... an hour? How long does a rugby match last for anyways?
Answer: Two forty-minute halves, apparently.

It's not all about the good looking guys though, like all sports, there is strategy to Rugby too. You might be thinking, 'How exciting!' but is it really?

First of all, the ball is freaky shaped. It's not round but more of an egg-like shape with two pointy edges. Imagine an oval that has had its two ends sharpened and pulled out except it's 3-D.
So, what are the basic rules of the game? Well, I don't have a clue!

Each team has about fifteen gorgeous male specimens eight hunks who play forward which means they mainly get possession of the ball, and seven other hunks who mainly carry and move the ball.

It starts by the defensive team kicking the ball to the offensive team. This baffles the mind, why on earth would you want to hand the opposing team the ball like some sort of Christmas present? But then again, sharing is caring. Aww, good for you guys! Someone then, runs with the ball till a bunch of the Perfections jump on him and tackle him to the ground. The women in the audience then let out gasps of unbelievable horror if that someone who was running was very good looking. You can pass or kick the ball to a teammate but not if its forward.
The gorgeous man releases or passes the ball when tackled and it is then open for anyone to take. Game will only stop if rules are violated such as when two opposing players grab the ball (known as a ruck or maul) or the ball going out of bounds. Game is however not stopped when one of the players gets tackled and mars his perfect features. That is just cruelty towards hot guys and women.

Another important thought that might be running through one's mind after 'Please, let his perfection be spared' and 'What exactly is going ON here?' might be 'but how exactly do they score?'.
Ehow.com writes 'Score five points for a try, which is touching the ball to the ground in the goal area. A kick is then attempted through the goalposts for two extra points. Score three points for a goal, kicking the ball through the goalposts while in play.' We sincerely hope that helps!

You might be thinking right about now, 'So, it's like American Football but much MUCH more manlier, like without padding and stuff'.

Unfortunately, this writer isn't qualified to answer that, and we sincerely hope you refrain from asking a real rugby player that question because he probably will tackle and maul you.
You just don't want to go there.


How We Actually Did It

By Alvi Ahmed

We Bangalis still can't get over the fact we “Banglawashed” (words Prothom Alo readers can relate to) the Kiwis right here in the “land of the flood”. But how did we get from zeroes to heroes in just one tournament? The answer is simple. Read on.

1. The weather - Yes yes, I know what y'all are thinking. The kiwis lost because they couldn't acclimatize to the harsh Bangladeshi summer. However, that is not entirely the case. On top of being excruciatingly hot, the air in Bangladesh (especially in Dhaka) contains more harmful gasses and particles than all the elements in the Periodic Table combined. So as soon as the kiwis got a whiff of our almost poisonous air, it reduced their lung capacity to that of a sixty five year old woman. Hence, they lost all their stamina and suffered a humiliating defeat in the hands of a nation, which will cease to exist in about fifty years.

2. You know how foreigners are, whenever they visit a third world country they feel the need to blend in and do what the locals do, eat what the locals eat. They think by doing so, they can actually know what we go through everyday. The kiwis were no exception, they ditched their seven course gourmet experience at some well reputed five start hotel to get a taste of authentic Bangladeshi cuisine. They got what they wished for and were taken to a restaurant known as “Montu Mia's Bhaat Palace”, very popular amongst rickshawpullers and “chintaikars” of puran Dhaka. The food is as traditional as it gets and it is the only restaurant in the world where they use armpit sweat as a spice. Needless to say the kiwis felt the need to use the little boys' room every five minutes after tasting such culinary delights.

3. Just before the big game the kiwis decided to take some time off and wanted to experience the wonders of Dhaliwood. They watched Shakib Khan's (the original King Khan) Oscar worthy acting at The Buetian, followed by the movie that has changed the face of modern cinema and has got film critics across the globe baffled, Khoj The Search. After the mind numbing (literally) experience the New Zealand cricket team were severely traumatised. Some are feared to have permanent psychological damage, while others said that they still have recurring nightmares about Shakib Khan and the cast from Khoj the search.

4. Shakib Al Hasan - No feeble attempts at making you laugh on this paragraph. He is the reason we won and that is it.

5. Has it ever occoured to you that we won because we actually deserved it and not because of all the non-sense written so far in this article? If yes, then you are a bigger douchebag than the guy who came up with Khoj The Search. We won because we got lucky and because the kiwis actually did all the things I just mentioned.


Last issue's topic was Feeling Insecure, and suffice to say, this entry was one of the best we've ever received for this column. For next week, the topic is The Day I Died. The topic was inspired by a song and we expect inspired articles like the one below. Word limit is 600 words and the deadline is midnight Saturday. Entries have to be sent in to ds.risingstars@gmail.com.


Where Insecurity Gets You

By Sifana Sohail

When you first learnt about the seven deadly sins, you expected that if you abstained from these sins, you'd have a great (after)life. You hid those sins as you got older (pride), gave your lunch to those bullies (covetousness, yes it's a word, and gluttony) and quietly watched them eat it (anger). You looked away as your friends ogled girls (lust) and 'didn't' (read tried not to) feel envious (yup, envy). And abstaining from that took a lot of work (sloth). So now you're a loser, but hey, at least you get to go to heaven.

So you climb all those stairs (they didn't bother to rev it up 'cause they figured no one from our generation was going to make it) and finally you get to the top.

*cue heavenly music*

Welcome to heaven, a cloud-filled white perfection paradise. You stare in wonder for a few seconds before this gorgeous girl, ahem, angel flies over and offers to show you around. Any of the guys downstairs would have jumped for joy, but all you can think of is if she can tell that you haven't had a leak since you died. Congratulations, you have discovered the eighth deadly sin Insecurity.

Now, while all the other sins may be just deadly, this one's suicidal. Like when the gorgeous angel is helping you try on wings and, embarrassed by your own imperfection, you don't tell her it's too small. Oops! Through the clouds you go.

You're falling through the sky and you see a gaggle of geese in V-formation. You wonder, what are they thinking? You imagine they have subtitles. "Hey!" says one, "Look at that ugly duckling," "Eww, he smells like he walked up heaven's stairs without any potty breaks," This girl goose honks disgustedly. "Haha," laughs this huge one. "Look at his wings, he's so fat, he can't even fly!" You cover your imaginary potbelly. Yes, even an alpha goose can make you insecure.

That's when you realise that the geese have long since disappeared... so you were imagining people making fun of you again, not like that hasn't happened before. Like that time you wore a T-shirt with a heart on it to that party. All the other guys wore buff T-shirts and you felt so out of place. You kept trying to hide the T-shirt. You thought the guys would make comments.

Suddenly, a terrifying thought hits you. You're falling into hell and undoubtedly, they will all be present. You frantically beat your wings. What if they see you with wings? It'll be exactly like that party but worse. They'll never forget it.

Sadly, soon you're standing at the gates of hell and it's like the first day of high school all over again. You are/were an angel... will you fit in? Will they accept you? Are you supposed to be yourself? But what if they hate you? Why do you sound like Zac Effron? The thoughts crowd around in your head while you tug at your robe.

In a fit of bravery you walk through the gates. You take a step forward and fall into the pit of fire you didn't notice. Did anyone see you? Are they laughing at you? If they saw you fall you will DIE of humiliation. Should you ask God to help you? Wait. Did GOD see you? Does he find you pathetic? Does he think you're too insecure? Are you too insecure?


 
 

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