While I wish I could say we accomplished every goal we set out for ourselves in Vegas, the value of my dignity and smart money habits took precedence. Nevertheless, it was an awesome experience.
Now before you get your panties in a bunch because I don’t have pictures of us gambling, me dancing with Elvis (which COULD happen. He IS alive.), or señor dressed as a showgirl with Barry Manilow, I should warn you this was a very tame Vegas trip. No drag, no throwing money away, no sinful hip-swinging.
But there was rugby.
Rugby Sevens to be exact. Traditional rugby has 15-minute halves but Rugby Sevens has 7-minute halves. So we sat and watched about 60 games from 9 am – 9 pm Saturday, 9 am – 5 pm on Sunday. I was a dedicated fan. And HOLY CANOLI it is so intense! I can’t even begin to describe it. Luckily, I have picture documentation of the carnage–and what HAD to be going through the players’ minds at the time.
Out of the 200 some-odd pictures that I took of the event, nothing really captured how incredibly barbaric and awesome this sport is. Real men play rugby. Just sayin’.
In addition to the sights and sounds of rugby, we also did some touristy-things including The Lion King on stage (naaaaa see waaaaynyaaaa), staying at the Bellagio Hotel (totes saw Terry Benedict and Danny Ocean…twice), and exploring Las Vegas Boulevard.