The Snook and I went to a rugby match last night to see the Queensland Reds annihilate our New South Wales Waratahs. Quite frankly, I had no idea what was going on on the field for most of the match. I’m an intelligent person (I even understand cricket!), but I just had no clue. There’d be a whistle and everyone would groan, and I’d look at the scoreboard to see that someone had been charged with “intentionally collapsing the scrum” or “joining tackle in front last feet”, and I’d just have no frickin’ clue. Now I know how the Snook felt when I took him to a Notre Dame game.