Page 114 of Playing for Keeps
I’m sorry the man I love has always outshone you.
Funny how, growing up, Luke’s family had always seemed perfect to me. I was the one from the fucked-up family. Luke’s family was like the Waltons in comparison.
But apparently there were different versions of fucked up.
Chapter28
Luke
The second Bledisloe Cup match was in Sydney. Ethan didn’t have Theo, so he’d flown over to watch, making it special that I got to play rugby for New Zealand in front of the man I loved.
But it was special for another reason, too, because Aiden Jones was on track to become the highest points scorer in New Zealand rugby history.
Tyler rolled his ankle in practice, so Aiden started the night as first five.
The first half of the game was tight, with one try each, neither side managing to pull ahead.
Tuala had a messy game, dropping a high ball and missing a tackle that led to Australia’s first try.
I got subbed on in the thirty-fifth minute, and I tried to school my face as I ran on. My stomach still roiled with nerves but, unlike last week, these nerves were more about getting to prove myself than worrying about screwing up.
With only a few minutes to go in the first half, I got the ball in hand and ran toward the Australian backline. Mitch Ashdown was bearing down on me, but I pretended I was going to pass to Jansen.
Ashdown fell for my dummy, giving me the opportunity to put on a burst of speed and nip through an opening in their defense. I thundered down the field, my breath loud in my ears.
Their winger, Cullingham, streaked over to cover me, but I sent a darting glance behind me to find Aiden Jones sprinting along in support.
Cullingham came in to tackle, and I passed the ball off to Jonesy, who ran it over the line for a solid try.
The bench were all on their feet, players hollering and whooping, celebrating far more than one try usually warranted. I cracked a grin.
Aiden Jones must have reached his record. A gay man was now the highest scoring rugby player New Zealand had ever had.
That was pretty cool.
At halftime, the mood in the changing rooms was buoyant, everyone congratulating Aiden on his achievement. No one was smiling more broadly than Tyler Bannings. But as we ran back onto the field, everyone focused on the task at hand.
We now had to win the Bledisloe Cup and give Aiden the complete celebration he deserved.
Last year Australia had won it, so if we drew the series 1–1, then they retained the cup. So it all came down to this game.
Mitch Ashdown, the Australian starting fullback, seemed determined to spoil Aiden’s party, grabbing an incredible intercept try that I would have admired the fuck out of if it hadn’t meant we were now down on the scoreboard.
But Aiden Jones hadn’t finished showing the world how amazing he was. On the next possession he did a cross kick into the arms of Jansen on the sideline, who sprinted in for the try.
Aiden converted to put us up 21–18.
And we managed to hold off the Australian defense for the next ten minutes to secure the win.
Crowding in with the team on a makeshift podium set up in the middle of the field, the Bledisloe Cup sparkling, cameras flashing, champagne spraying everywhere, I had one of those pinch myself moments. How was this my life? Especially when I looked up at the cheering New Zealand supporters in the crowd and knew Ethan was among them.
As we walked off the field toward the changing room, I noticed that Tyler seemed to be walking normally on his ankle. He hadn’t played up his injury so Aiden was guaranteed to get the record this game, had he?
Who knew? I couldn’t imagine how I’d cope if I had to compete with my husband for the starting spot. It was hard enough for me knowing I was eating into Tuala’s minutes. This was the thing with sports—achieving your dream often meant shattering someone else’s.
There was a joint after-match sponsors function for both the New Zealand and Australian teams. Even though I was itching to find Ethan, I knew as a team newbie that it wouldn’t be a good look if I blew it off.
When I walked in, the first person I saw was Mitch Ashdown.
