Oh, what a jolly good show it was going to be! The entire school had been bubbling with excitement all week for the senior girls' rugby match, and I, Sally, was preparing to cheer my heart out. Even the sky seemed to be in high spirits, although it had decided to stage a little bit of a water festival of its own, pouring buckets of rain the night before and turning the pitch into a proper, squelchy mud bath. I woke up early on the day, peering out of my dorm window to see a grey blanket overhead, but that didn't dampen my spirits. The thought of our seniors ploughing through the mud, with rugby balls flying and girls tackling was too thrilling. I grabbed my school scarf--striped with our proud colors of navy and gold--and dashed out to join the throng of eager spectators making their way to the pitch. The atmosphere was buzzing as we settled along the sidelines--girls from our school and our rival, St. Clementine's Girls School, sporting their yellow and green. We'd all had our instructions from Miss Millington, our sports instructor, who told us to be sporting and cheer in good nature, but that didn't stop the friendly rivalry in the air. And then, with a blast from Miss Millington's whistle, it was on! The ball soared into the grey skies from the kickoff, and down it plopped into a grand muddy puddle, causing a mighty splash that drenched the nearest girls. But no one minded in the least. Instead, it only brought forth giggles and even more determined faces. The St. Clementine's prop tried a daring sprint, her legs churning up mud like a motor-car, but our fly-half, Lily, tackled her magnificently and came up looking like a chocolate soldier. As the match progressed, the scrums were quite the sight--girls pushing and heaving, legs skidding in all directions. But when our hooker, Jane, finally wriggled the ball clear, there was a mighty cheer. Jane passed it swiftly to Alice, who sidestepped a tackle and dashed forward, pigtail flying out behind her, with the ball tucked safely under her arm like it was her favorite teddy bear. "Run, Alice, run!" we all roared. It was certainly a match to remember, and every girl on that pitch played like it was the finest day of her life, with spirits too high to be dampened by any amount of mud. By the end of it all, uniforms were indistinguishable, and it was hard to tell which girl was from which school. But the camaraderie shone through as everyone shook hands and laughed, hosing down before getting into dry clothes. Our school won, by a narrow three points, and you could hear our victory song being sung all the way back to the changing rooms. But the real victor was the sport itself, because by Merlin's beard, I can't imagine a more good-hearted, lively match than the one I watched that day. And as I joined the other girls for hot cocoa and scrumptious scones, all provided by our school's ever-jolly cook, Mrs. Beadle, I thought to myself, "Next year, that will be me out there, giving it my all, covered in glory and mud!" Oh, what a wonderful, energetic day for a game of rugby, and how I can't wait to play in the senior team!