On my team, I have the unfortunate nickname of “Rabid Chihuahua.” Many think I received this name in honor of my ferociousness and stunted height (a towering and intimidating 5 ft 2 in), but in reality, how the moniker came to be is a riveting tale of determination in an unfortunate position. 

 It all happened during my first huge tournament. At least three other teams from Beijing, Hong Kong, and Shanghai were there. During the playoffs leading into finals I was going in for a tackle. I’m not going to lie, I was a young, naïve scrummie at that time.

 I tackled too low and slipped down the girl's leg like a stripper who had daddy problems, resulting in the most awkward ride down her limb. But I was on my feet and she still controlled the ball, so I continued to pull at her leg, unknowingly humping the hell out of her ankle like I was in some sort of rugger heat. With my mouth foaming, eyes glazed and looking her straight in the eye, I hissed, "go-down-go-down-go-down!”

 She calmly ball requited while holding onto the ball, "You can't tackle while you're not on the ground."  

 To which I retorted, "I'm not on the ground!"

 I continued, in perfect oriental squat position, to hump her leg for a few more moments. The crowd was aghast and even the ref stood with a cocked head, whistle perched between his lips not quite sure what to call. She flipped a pass off to her teammate and I released feeling ashamed and sore in all the wrong places. 

 We went on to win the championship game.