Countdown to the World Cup


And so the countdown begins. In just under a year, Rugby will take to the world stage at the 2015 World Cup in the UK. When you live in a family like mine – rugby mad, and English – what this means is that come hell or high water, we plan to be there. When I say hell or high water, I mean it literally. Hell is a fairly apt description of the year we have just endured, which has included (but is not limited to) extreme financial hardship, the death of my father-in-law, the deaths of two of my 17-year-old son’s best friends in a car accident, and our own car accident. High water could be the large expanse of ocean that separates us from the location of the World Cup, as we are living in Canada.

When we put in our application for tickets a couple of months ago, we were partly terrified that we would actually get any. After all, we had no way to pay for them. Imagine being allocated tickets to the final, and not actually being able to come up with the money to buy them. In the end, it wasn’t a problem as, unsurprisingly, we didn’t get tickets to the final. What we did get was a lot cheaper, but I am assured by my husband is the best game in the whole tournament (if you are an England fan). We got England -v- Australia at Twickenham in the first round. And we had just about enough room on a credit card to pay for them.

Now we have just under a year to get ourselves straight so that we can somehow actually get there. When I tell you that we are probably going to have to sell our house to pay for that to happen, I am not exaggerating. There is no way that the small matter of insufficient funds is going to stop us. Who needs a house anyway? Rugby is way more important.