Men 3 The Broken Toys:

Team Captain: Doug Simpson

Team Philosophy: "Talent is the scourge of Thirds rugby"

Captain's Message:

The pantheon of Toronto Scottish heroes gained in stature (well, girth anyway) with the creation of a new third division team in 2004. This handpicked group of reprobates and ne'er do wells quickly earned the name, "Broken Toys" for its spastic, crippled, brain-dead efforts to play winning rugby without physical or mental effort. In so doing, the Thirds exceeded all expectations.

The Broken Toys was created to provide a soft landing for all the players whose first and second division prospects had been dashed by an unwelcome influx of talent during the off-season. Talent, as we all know, is the scourge of Thirds rugby. We cannot tolerate it. If talent emerges in our midst, we immediately banish it to the upper divisions before it infects our whole squad with false hope of advancement.

That said, many of this year's Broken Toys did elevate themselves (rather than merely slowing their declines). Some simply mended themselves, others discovered deeply concealed ability, and some were drawn unwillingly into the vacuum created by the injuries in the upper divisions.

It is against Broken Toys' policy to commend them for their progress because it signals failure on our part when someone escapes the lower reaches of rugby Hell. We take pride in those inveterate Toys for whom it's not all about winning but simply playing the game.

Hell, it's not even about playing rugby, from the looks of things at times. Some weeks, the game against the other team was incidental to the true clash of titans going on within our own squad. The struggle for power took the form of Gorman subbing himself in to add points at critical junctures, and Gambler subbing himself in to subtract them.

And yet, against all odds, the Broken Toys won more than their share this season, and when they lost, they lost spectacularly. Often overmatched and always outmotivated, the Toys were in every game right up to the opening kickoff. After that, it was a mixture of senseless violence and misplaced ambition that produced one shocking victory after another.

In truth, we discovered the true joy that rugby affords the unrepentant individualist. While the Firsts and Seconds endured Tuesday night harangues for playing like individuals, the four or five Toys who typically attended fitness training would smirk and roll their eyes. For in the thundering chaos of a Saturday afternoon, when smoke and turf blind the eyes and apolcalypse seems imminent, it's every man for himself.

Toys rugby is not for the faint of heart. You're apt to meet new team mates during the cleat check. It's not unusual to discover that you'll be playing a new position just minutes before kickoff. Typically the lineout signals are not agreed upon until the following evening in the Kent. Sometimes its obvious before you start that the other team is just way bigger, faster, younger, smarter, and better organized than your team, and you know that they'll take the entire 80 minutes to prove it.

That's when the Broken Toys truly shine - when it's hopeless. We laugh in the face of despair. Humiliation is like air to us. We'll thrash and crash, curse and crawl, until the dust settles, the sun breaks through, and the bar opens. Only hours later would it occur to us to check the score because it really doesn't matter.

We, who played the match, largely unattended, then celebrate surviving for another week. For the rest of the afternoon, while we drink and heckle our athletic betters, we are as brothers, except for the male impersonator on the squad (who shall remain nameless and shower alone).

Underneath it all, the Broken Toys are, man for man, the oddest, funniest, friendliest characters you could ever hope to meet. They deeply love the game of rugby and are fiercely loyal to the club, but generally have better things to do on Tuesday and Thursday nights until about 9:00pm. when they can always be found first in line when the free wings emerge from the Kent's kitchen. Where would we be without them?

First hand experience with the Toys puts me in mind of a line from the American poet, Walt Whitman, who, in the voice of Jesus Christ recounting the crucifixion, writes:

"I was the man. I suffered. I was there."

How very like an afternoon with the Toys.

Doug.

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If you have any questions regarding the 3rd team, such as "What was Doug going on about?" or "Where can i find a really nice bit of cheese?"

please contact Alan Freeman