school

i remember walking into the rival school's entrance hallway. it was grand, panelled mahogany wood. beautiful. a facade for parents to walk though if they ever decided to visit their kids. i remember the way we used to walk through there, admiring the wood and the piano and the placement and such. admiring things the way they were, and at the same time thinking "we're going to smash these boys to pieces"

you see for as long as i played rugby, as long as i was a school boy, i played for and was a part of the toughest team in the country. for a long long time there was no greater pleasure for me than to hit a person so hard they couldn't get up because they couldn't remember their name. that primal aggression never troubled me, but it didn't last. as i grew older it faded, and a small boy cannot fell young men without a killer attitude.

i'm comfortable that that was the way my mind came to be, although there's no doubt any will has ever left.