I’m nearly sure those words like Yokahama, Tokyo, and Osaka emblazened over the chests and backs of teen rugby players are lost on them, I don’t think they would ever see themselves there, well maybe some would travel all that way to these exotically named places but certainly not standing in the middle of these great cities with those God awful track tops and tee-shirts. Jack and Jones bulldog breeding heavies who take the bus to the northside and wear flip flops whilst watching the Corrie omnibus. Dark and full of Doritos and drink. All i remember of Osaka was changing into a suit in the mens toilets in the airport, exhausted and onward for another long flight south to Fukuoka Prefecture to see our friend Mika a million Trillion miles away from the 122 to Cabra West.

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