Apparently one of the most hotly anticipated games of the NFL season happened a couple of days ago. Did you know? I certainly didn’t, but it was played between two giants of the game to decide who would progress for a chance at the Super Bowl. No, not a huge piece of crockery for mammoth breakfast portions, but the most important date in the American football calendar. In pure American style the Super Bowl is an event of epic proportions, with the likes of the Red Hot Chilli Peppers, Beyoncé, The Who and Bruce Springsteen gracing the famous half-time extravaganzas. Before I even get into my attempt at taking this on, I’m already excited by a sport whose associated entertainment dwarfs the Monmouth Male Voice Choir who sang at the Six Nations last year (still brilliant I hasten to add).

I’ve played a number of sports in my time, but I’ve never really taken to the great American pastimes. Of course I played Rounders at school (close enough to Baseball) and being tall meant I could stand in front of a Basketball hoop with my arms held up with reasonable success, but having Welsh in-laws gives me loyalty to Rugby. Watching American Football always seemed so slow and simple: short plays culminating in “go-fetch”, constant breaks and dramatized field goals. But I think it’s fair to say, and you can quote me on this, I was wrong.

Sunday morning and I’m stood outside the Union holding borrowed shoulder pads and a helmet alongside our resident pig-skin team, the Imperial Immortals. The kit, provided for all members, makes me look far bigger and stronger than I am, but I’ll accept this as a momentary butch-boost. Under the stoic gaze of Prince Albert, training starts with some basic stretches. The camaraderie and encouragement are evident from the start, everyone high-fiving after each exercise. No boundaries exist between hardened members and amateurs, everyone was welcome and everyone was included. I’m introduced to the coach who is more than happy to integrate me in to the main training session even though I know next to nothing about what’s going on. If I need to take a balanced view for fairness, I did not enjoying the running and was slightly left behind but that is probably the extra pastry I consumed that morning.

Now warmed up, we are split into Offense and Defence, where each part of the team has separate, targeted training. Today’s session is slightly different, as these groups are usually split further into field positions where each player is given exercises specific to their role. The coaches are clearly experienced and dedicated to improving the team’s performance, having drafted new tactics over the holidays. Constant repetition of drills ensure each player understands their job to the letter. I’ve been grouped with the wide receivers where we train in both running patterns and catching awkward passes (4 out of 5 isn’t bad) and the coach is always constructive, giving tips on how to improve.

In light of the new proposed tactics, we move back with the rest of the offense to practice plays described by what I now call ‘The Code’. This code (not the official name, I’ve coined this particular term) is made up of numbers and words which indicate to each member of the team the strategy for this particular play. Where they need to run, who is tackling who and what part of the body they need to scratch next. OK, that last one is slightly exaggerated but trust me, it could easily be integrated and the opposition would be suitably confused. You’ll have heard it before on any film featuring American Football but there is no agreed format. Each team has their own language and by the end of the session, your mother tongue will be less fluent in comparison. But the bottom line is this, the supposedly random collection of numbers and words coalesce into precise instructions for the entire team. My previous description of this sport certainly comes under scrutiny, as each player has a specific tactic determined by the code, which they must remember and carry out in order to work as a team. In that stiffling helmet you cannot always see the entire picture, instead relying on everyone knowing their role perfectly.

Onto the plays. I’m asked to stand in as a blocker whilst the rest of the team practice their movements. This resulted in the coach giving me the best life advice I’ve ever received: “Crouch down, head up and when signalled move forward with a small waddle”. And I did. Brilliantly. I’m being serious. Not a single opponent made it past me. The fact that we faced an imaginary foe makes it no less impressive. And knowing where to pretend block was pretty damn hard. It was made much easier by those next to me in line always directing and encouraging. I felt part of the team and even developed a hankering to try different field positions.

I take some time out of my budding tackling career to talk to some of the guys who were injured but still turned up, yet another sign of their commitment. I get the impression they miss being on the field, coming up with any excuse to be part of the session. This is a sport full to the brim with positive energy, not just on the pitch but off it too with plenty of socials and the upcoming Super Bowl party in the Union on February 5th.

If you’re looking for a team sport with opportunities for all new-comers, I encourage you to take the first-session-free offer and become Immortal. Despite dropping down from the Premier League last season, they have recorded the highest number of points (and over best points difference) and have won three on the bounce.

Head on over to their Facebook page to find out more: facebook.com/ImmortalsAFC.