Foul play in the hot seat

I was never destined to be an All Black. My early attempts at rugby usually ended with my mangled remains needing to be dug out of the field at the end of the match.

And yet, I love the oval ball game.

Over the past few weeks or so, like many New Zealanders, I've been thinking a lot about rugby. Actually, that's something of an understatement - rugby has taken over my life.

But instead of dragging myself out on to a muddy field every Saturday morning, I've taken the far more slothful option of settling down in front of my computer screen, to take part in one of the many online virtual rugby contests that have sprung up around the Rugby World Cup.

The game I'm playing involves selecting a squad of 22 players, with a starting limit of three players from each country. If your players score points on the field, your team scores points.

Equally, however, if your players are sinbinned or sent off, you lose points.

Points are also allocated for having players on winning teams - but the catch is, they have to make it on to the field. Currently, I'm ranked 368th out of 3618 teams. I hope to be higher by the end of the tournament but, for now, it's a healthy position.

Less healthy is my computer desk, which is creaking under rugby form guides and newspaper supplements. Small pieces of sticky-note paper listing rugby websites are tacked to the side of my monitor, and I don't think I'll be getting the spilt beer stains out of the top of the computer desk anytime soon.

My supply of A4 printer paper has dwindled, as painstakingly thorough plans for player transfers are sketched out weeks in advance - and then scrapped when someone suffers an untimely injury. Every rugby website is pored over, team announcements are met with an uncommon amount of excitement or despair, and each game so far has been watched from the couch with white-knuckle intensity. I've lost track of the number of times I've stayed up late just to meet the player transfer deadline, only to curse my lack of sleep while I slumber through work the following day.

Virtual rugby tends to play havoc with your usual sense of loyalties.

Like, I suspect, a good number of Kiwis, I found myself cheering for Wales against South Africa last Sunday night. And yet, I couldn't help but feel a touch anxious - I had three South African players in my virtual team and, if they lost, I in turn also lost valuable points.

You find yourself hoping the ball is passed to your players, while in turn cursing if an opponent's players score points.

In the opening match, Israel Dagg's double against Tonga hurt me badly.

And let's not start on Welsh fullback James Hook's controversial "did it or didn't it go over" penalty kick - the decision not to award the goal also cost me valuable points.

But then, it wouldn't be the first time a match refereed by Wayne Barnes has left me with a bitter taste in my mouth.

Family ties also feel the strain - for years I have jousted with a South Island-based cousin over these sorts of games, and every match result is usually followed with a text message of either a crowing or commiserating nature. This tournament has been no different.

I will likely be spending much of this weekend examining the various permutations of possible match results, and trying to second-guess which of my players may get dropped by their respective coaches for their matches against so-called "lesser" teams.

I should probably get out more. But you know what? I don't really want to.

Reon Suddaby is the Wanganui Chronicle deputy editor, and a confirmed rugby tragic with a love for charts and sketch diagrams.