A weekend with friends

I wasn’t aware after all these years how rugby would affect me after Jimmy’s death. This past weekend was filled with rugby. It was a celebration of 50 years of UNL rugby! And it was fun. Bill McVicker and the rest of the crew did a great job organizing!

There was a lovely gathering of ruggers from all decades! Can you call ruggers lovely? What I mean is so many guys and gals came! People who haven’t been back for a long while. As well as people who see each other all the time. 

We all agreed that Jim would have been in his element. Everyone missed him including me. There were so many guys who made a point to tell me how much Jim meant to them. Stories about what a great guy he was and how much he and rugby changed the world for them. Taimour. Kevin. Stan. To name a few. My husband was a stalwart of UNL rugby for fifty years. But he’s not the only one! They gave out awards for coaches, team managers and players.

Billy McVicker did a great job of emceeing! (Zippy dance included!) There were photos circulating on the big screen of ruggers from every team in every decade. I contributed some from Jimmy’s stash. 

There were awards! There was much appreciation for all of the award winners. From coach Powers who pulled his team together with fitness and actual knowledge of the rules of the game in the 70’s and 80’s to Nikko who is beloved by years of recent players for just about everything surrounding and included in the game! It’s inspiring to see such love for a coach by his players!

Some cried. Daniel cried a lot. Most just teared up and made me tear up in the process! I felt love for Jim and by happenstance and extension, me. 

It was exhausting, it was humbling, it was loving and heartwarming. It was difficult to talk to everyone.

The surprise to me was in the presenting of the scholarships. The present coach (who has a coaching staff!) spoke about each scholarship and the young man who was chosen and his positive contributions to the team. There were three. 

Bill had asked me to hand the really nicely done plaque for the Jim Cunningham Spirit Award to the very handsome and talented man who was chosen. But just before he began that presentation Vince Powers gave him a nod which meant “I am coming up to speak.” So I went up and Vince came up and I, of course, thought he was going to talk about Jimmy, but he did not. He talked about me! Oh shit! And Jim. And how I swept Jim off his feet all those years ago and how we had a relationship that each of the couples in the crowd should strive for; the love we had for each other. (Which we did-do!?) Sensual, he labeled me among other things. I think he was making it up as he spoke! But that’s the word that stuck in the minds of the assembled crowd and what will now label me forever in the … hearts of my beloved friends! Then he suggested that players who had a story about how Jim had had an impact on them should find me and give me their story.

After that I had to hand the plaque and fake check to the recipient and shake his hand before slipping out of the room to get a cold beer (which a kind and drunk young woman bought for me) and head to the bathroom where I was met by my besties: Cindy, Brooke and Emily, of course, who hugged me and helped me put myself back together.

I am happy to say that Vince’s speech emboldened some men to approach me and shake my hand and tell me how much Jim meant to them. I believe it was as cathartic for them as it was for me. Some had stories, some just had a good feeling of what being on a team with Jimmy meant to them. How he encouraged them or inspired them. Grown men tearing up. His singing, of course. They were relieved to have the opportunity to talk about him with me. Was that Vince’s intent? Maybe. 

Or maybe he wanted me to hear just how much Jim meant to so many.

Sorry Vince, I already knew that.