We were somewhere between a few kirs (beers in the case of the lads), some amazing tapas and that delicious part of the evening when the sun hasn’t quite dipped below the treeline and everyone was just a little too relaxed for their own good (cue mischief!). Someone, possibly fuelled by a brilliant season or maybe just a flair for chaos, decided that it was time for Utube music videos.
“Allez, allez” they clapped, knowing I don’t need much persuasion to start dancing as I have done before. Cue for Flo to pick “Time of My Life”, a song which actually lends itself very well to French rock. Yes Flo, the one the lads dragged out to be my bodyguard last year in Marseille for the 6Nations opener. The all too familiar one with the cheeky grin I hadn’t seen in four years … It was completely ridiculous, and an utterly perfect weekend once we had recovered from the defeat inflicted at the Velodrome by Ireland…
We regularly do karaoke when I go over, so the theatrics were nothing new, but this one took the crown. There’s something about a Frenchman that pairs perfectly with French rock; slow, sensual, and just the right side of intensity. And if he happens to be a former back, all the better.
Then, right on cue as Swayze took his leap in the film, he gave me a wink, turned, and dove into the pool without hesitation. Naturally, about five others followed suit, launching themselves in one after the other with chaotic enthusiasm. And then came the moment. There he was, standing in the shallow end, hair slicked back, that old mischievous smile playing on his lips, and his hand reaching out toward me.
“Viens,” he said.
Now, here’s the thing. I’ve never been one for dares or dramatics, but there’s something about a summer evening, a very familiar frenchman, and a crowd of persuasive current players that makes a girl feel strangely invincible. So I did it. I got into a plank position at the pool’s edge thinking, “Well, most of these lads are used to throw-ins, what’s the worst that could happen?”
The landing was, I’ll admit, almost majestic. A clean hit: Flo caught me and I even managed to get my arms out, just like she does! Cue applause and cheers from the sidelines.
For a moment, I’d nailed it. That is, until one of the others reached out, grinned like the devil himself, and yanked me straight into the pool. Dress, hair, dignity, all submerged.
I resurfaced to roars of laughter, spluttering, eyes stinging, water up my nose, and silently thanking the fact that I rarely wear makeup (cream coloured dress). In hindsight, I probably should have seen it coming, the suspiciously innocent smiles from the others and just their sense of humour… but hindsight, as they say, is a wonderful thing.
And at that moment, soaked and slightly dazed, I couldn’t help but laugh along with them.
But that evening was one I won’t forget; I did have the time of my life. A silly, wonderful, waterlogged slice of end of season party that still makes me smile every time I hear this song. Even if it ended with the walk of shame back to my room, dress soaked and what felt like half the pool still in my ear. It was worth it.
Merci les potos…
Photo by Wesley Tingey
