So, you’re thinking about the rugby wing, huh? Been there, done that, and let me tell you, it’s a whole different beast than just watching some speedster dot the ball down on a Saturday afternoon. I actually tried to get good at it, put in the hours, the whole nine yards.
My first thought? Easy peasy. I was pretty quick back then, figured I’d just stand out wide, catch the ball, and blaze down the touchline. Simple. Or so I thought. The first few sessions were, well, a bit of a mess. I’d get the ball, try to run, and BAM! Some dude twice my size would just send me flying. Or worse, I’d be totally lost, no idea where I was supposed to be when we didn’t have the ball.
My “Brilliant” Plan Unravels
I quickly realized just being fast wasn’t cutting it. Not even close. I remember getting absolutely chewed out by the coach. “You’re a winger, not a spectator!” he’d yell. And he was right. I was just waiting for glory, not doing the actual work.
So, I had to swallow my pride. I started from scratch, pretty much.
- I watched the older guys, the ones who knew their stuff. Not just when they scored, but their movement off the ball, how they defended.
- I spent ages on drills. Not just sprints, but tackling drills. Yeah, wingers actually have to tackle, who knew? And not just any tackle, you gotta cover that outside channel.
- I worked on my positioning. Understanding where to be in attack to create space, and where to stand in defense to shut things down. That took ages.
- Communication was another big one. Learning to shout, to signal, to actually be part of the defensive line instead of a lonely outpost.
It felt like learning a new language. Suddenly, the game wasn’t just about running fast. It was about reading the play, anticipating, and being in the right place at the right time, over and over again.
That One Game…
There was this one specific club game, I’ll never forget it. We were under the pump, defending our line. The ball got swung wide to their winger. For a split second, I thought he was clear. But because I’d been working on my positioning, really grinding it out in training, I was actually there. I made the tackle, bundled him into touch. Didn’t score a try that day, but that tackle felt like a win. It was like, “Okay, maybe I’m starting to get this.”
Then there’s the whole business of finishing. It’s not just diving. It’s the angle of your run, how you take contact if someone’s coming across, keeping control of the ball with one hand sometimes while you’re at full stretch. Way more technical than it looks.
So, after all that effort, all that practice, what did I learn? Being a winger is tough. Seriously tough. You need the speed, sure, but you also need guts, brains, and you gotta be able to handle being isolated sometimes, then suddenly be the guy everyone’s relying on to make that crucial tackle or score that vital try.
It’s a specialist position, for sure. And I definitely don’t look at wingers the same way anymore. It’s a grind to get good at it. A real grind.
