The following scare comes from Matt Oertling:

It was an average day in the workshop. I was working on welding some fixtures for the new Massey’s location when I was confronted with a significant problem. In order to prepare raw steel for a coat of clear enamel, it must be cleaned with acetone. I had been cleaning said steel with the aforementioned solvent and depositing the dirty, solvent soaked rags in a trash receptacle which at the present time was located five feet behind me along with an empty can of acetone. The sparks created by the welding process flew over my head and unbeknownst to be ignited the propellant saturated towels. I finished my weld and removed my shield, but when I turned around I was faced with a raging fire. I knew that it was only a matter of seconds before the empty can exploded and filled the shop with fiery shards of death shrapnel. With unprecedented dynamisism (not doubt heightened by the countless cascade and rucking drills) I leapt for the extinguisher and subdued the blaze. Once again a catastrophe was avoided by quick thinking and swift action.

Holy schmoly. What the hell did I just go through? In one my biggest scares yet, I just survived practice with the Glendale Rugby Club.

Without boring you with details (or giving Coach Jerry any ideas), I can summarize it like this. Imagine a 2 hour long 'Check 1,2' rucking drill.

And of course they forgot to mention to me that in addition to my mouthpiece and boots, I was supposed to bring my own oxygen to the pitch. There such as shit wasn't any out there.

Stay robbish.

Bus