So, I’d heard tons about the Las Vegas 7s. Everyone was always hyping it up, you know? Fast rugby, big party, sunshine. Sounded like a blast, so I figured, why not? I gotta see what this whole thing is about. My actual experience, my “practice” of getting through it all, well, it was something else, let me tell ya.
First off, planning this trip was a mission. I started looking into it, thinking it’d be straightforward. Boy, was I wrong. Tickets for the games weren’t too bad, I guess, but finding a place to stay that didn’t cost an arm and a leg? That was a whole different game. Vegas prices, man. They really get you. I spent hours, literally hours, scrolling through websites, trying to find something decent. Already, I was feeling a bit stressed, and I hadn’t even packed my bags.
Then came the actual getting there. Flying into Vegas is always a bit of a shock to the system, isn’t it? You step off the plane, and BAM! Lights, noise, the faint smell of old cigarettes and desperation. It’s a lot. I remember thinking, “Okay, here we go. This is the backdrop for a rugby tournament?” It felt weird. I just wanted to get to the hotel and drop my stuff.
The event itself. Okay, the rugby was fast, I’ll give it that. Some really skillful players out there. But man, the whole atmosphere was just… intense. It wasn’t just about watching rugby. It felt like a massive, sprawling party that happened to have some games going on in the middle of it. Crowds everywhere, music blasting from all corners, people in crazy costumes. It was a sensory overload, big time. I found myself watching the people more than the games half the time.
I remember one afternoon, I was trying to get a drink. Simple, right? Nope. The lines were insane. I must have waited a good thirty minutes. And the price for a bottle of water? Absolutely ridiculous. It felt like everything was designed to squeeze every last penny out of you. I saw so many folks who were clearly there just for the party, barely paying attention to the actual sport. It made me wonder what the whole point was, sometimes.
My “practice” involved a lot of navigating. Navigating crowds, navigating crazy prices, navigating the sheer Vegas-ness of it all. I’d try to find a good spot to watch a game, and suddenly a giant inflatable something-or-other would block my view, or a bachelorette party would stumble past, screaming. It was… an experience.
Honestly, I did see some good rugby. Some moments were genuinely exciting. And yeah, the energy was high. But it wasn’t the pure sporting event I’d maybe naively imagined. It was more like a festival. A very loud, very expensive festival. You had to really work to focus on the games sometimes.
So, what did I get out of it? Well, I can say I’ve done it. I’ve experienced the Las Vegas 7s. It was a spectacle, for sure. My main takeaway from this whole “practice” run? It’s Vegas, baby, with a side of rugby. You go there expecting that, maybe you’ll love it. For me, I think I learned that I prefer my rugby a little less… Las Vegas. It was definitely a story to tell, though. A very, very loud story.
