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Confessions of a WLAF Snob

UP UNTIL RECENTLY, I had always had the sneaking suspicion that maybe I'd become that which I dislike so much, a snob. A WLAF snob at that. There must have been a good ten years or so between the last time I dragged my Dad over to Craigshill to see the Lothian Chieftains play (remember them?) and last month's Scotland -v- Wales game at Meadowbank. (Which was also something of a pilgrimage for me, what with being a Livingston FC fan and all that.)

Certainly, I'd thought about going to amateur games in the time between the two games, but I'd never "got round to it". A crap excuse, and I know it is. I just guess that after experiencing the World League, I could never look at amateur games in the same light again. How wrong I was.

That Sunday, I learned that it was the game itself which is the most important component, not the team or the league. I'd be a fool if I didn't admit there's something of a gap in standards between the WLAF and Britball, but I found that it didn't matter as much as I thought it might. Despite the bad punts and all that, the game remained essentially the same, it was entertaining. Off the field, it might have been lacking Shuggie McGurk and the cheerleaders and the other Claymores paraphernalia which makes the WLAF such a unique and enjoyable experience, but it was still an afternoon well-spent.

In finishing, I urge anybody who like me largely ignored amateur games, to think again and try their hardest to find time to watch an amateur game at least once in their life. I was surprised, and you might be too. Even if you're not, what have you lost?

Alan Gibson

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