The last two years at Booth have been momentous and transformative. I feel like I've packed a decade's worth of life into these six ten-week terms. I could fill a book with all the highs and lows and insane adventures and pinch-me moments that I've experienced over the course of my MBA Yet, my time on the rugby team stands head and shoulders above the rest of my Booth experience. The fun parts were FUN: we hit 6th street in Austin in neon Dumb and Dumber tuxedos on Halloween, we wore drag and shook our hips onstage at Pink Party, and we literally carried a fellow Boothie around Chicago for her birthday bar crawl. Nevertheless, the best parts of my Booth Rugby experience happened on the pitch. That’s where men like Doug Sutherland and Rob Weir started out as strangers to me, but over time became my brothers. We sweat and we bled for each other week after week, and the bonds that come from that are unbreakable. When you’re exhausted, muscles that you didn’t even know existed are screaming for mercy, and you feel like the five minutes remaining in the game are an eternity, the thing that keeps you going is the sight of the men around you who you couldn’t bear to let down. And then – when the whistle blows and your friends go crazy because you’ve BEATEN KELLOGG and victory beers are being drunk out of the trophy cup you’ve just won (again) – you look around yourself and you know in your heart of hearts that life couldn’t possibly get better than this.