WARNING: Contains adult humour!
Harry was English through and through, but he could have been Welsh, Scottish, Irish or dare I say it even from Australia, South Africa or New Zealand. In fact, as far as Harry was concerned these were the countries that made up all the nations on earth.
Harry was a rugby player and it was his life. He played rugby, he drank rugby, he lived rugby. He was a typical rugby bloke but the athlete of his youth was alas, no more!
In his youth he was a player, a champion, a social icon. He had biceps you dream of, cute buns of steel that earned him the nickname “snakehips” and a smile that lightened up the darkest corners of every room.
He was a rugby man and the girls loved him. None more than his stunning girlfriend. She was blonde, beautiful with a lovely pair of eyes and matching breasts. All the girls loved Harry and all the guys loved Tamara.
However, playing, living and drinking rugby takes it’s toll and by the time Harry was 40 he had lost some of his teeth and his smile was not what it had once been, but he didn’t care, because he was a rugby man and he could still drink with the boys and come home late. Tamara put up with his rugby ways even though he was going to seed. His muscles had turned to fat because he no longer trained. The injuries had seen to that, but he didn’t care for he was a rugby man. He had more time for drinking, takeaways and the rugby club even though his physicality had come to a stop. He just put on more and more weight and started to look uglier and uglier. He still expected Tamara to look her best and love him, for he was Harry, the bronze Adonis, the great rugby player. In reality the great big , fat, alcoholic, fast food chomping, seriously overweight ex rugby player.
Perhaps you know someone like him?
Tamara had been with Harry since they were 16 through all the triumphs, the parties and celebrations, engagements, weddings and indeed some of the tours. When Harry wasn’t doing rugby he was doing Tamara because she was beautiful but time takes it’s toll at the rugby club and Tamara was five stone overweight. Harry couldn’t see it because he was usually pissed. The rugby life is a tough one both off and on the field.
Tamara tried every diet she could. From eating nothing to eating nuts, berries, the Atkins diet and even being vegetarian but being at Harry’s side, losing weight was impossible. Nothing worked.
Tamara was acutely aware she was not the ravishing beauty she once was, so in desperation she went to her doctor and explained how it worked in rugby circles. The socialising, the bad eating, the endless drinking and partying. She was so stressed about her weight.
Doctor Evans was Welsh and he had played quite a lot of rugby in his time. He knew all about rugby, ex rugby players and the social whirl and downward spiral.
Tamara was at her wits end and explained no diet had ever worked.
Doctor Evans realised that she was at the end of her tether and agreed to help. He asked Tamara what Harry did when he started to gain weight over the years. Tamara said he couldn’t care less and just drank more and more and ignored it.
Doctor Evans said that the only cure for Tamara was to change her attitude, to retrain and get herself into the rugby player mindset.
Tamara asked if there was a diet that would work for her in her circumstances and Doctor Evans said that indeed there was a proven diet that would work for a rugby wife past her sell by date.
Doctor Evans said he would put her on the Cider diet.
She enquired what the Cider diet was???????
Doctor Jones was a quietly spoken man with great patience and his bedside manner was impeccable. He explained that she would need to stop drinking tea and coffee.
She could have anything she wanted for breakfast but she must drink one pint of cider with her cornflakes or bacon sandwich. Wow! said Tamara.
He further told her that she could have a cream cake lunchtime or a cooked meal but insisted she have another pint of cider to wash it down. Wow! said Tamara.
After work he insisted she go to the pub and have four pints of cider before going home with a takeaway for her and “Harry the has been”. Wow! said Tamara again. “I’m liking this!”
Is that it? asked Tamara.
No, said the good Doctor Evans. After your takeaway, make sure you grab that lazy git Harry and take him over the rugby club. When you get there, all you need to do is drink another 4-6 pints of cider and after telling some bad jokes and three renditions of Swing Low Sweet Chariot make your way home.
Wow! wow! wow! says Tamara. How often do I have do this she enquires?
Doctor Evans replies that she should start in the morning and do it every single day until he advises differently. In essence, I want you to behave like a real rugby guy and I guarantee that all your stresses about your weight will disappear.
Wow! says Tamara. How much weight will I lose?
Oh, says Doctor Evans, you won’t lose any weight, you just won’t give a bollocks!