We were winning 58-18. This would be a noteworthy scoreline in any circumstance. Up by 40 points in the fourth quarter against a crosstown foe and absolutely giving them the business. Even in a game that meant next to nothing in the grand scheme of things of Minnesota High School Football, any game pushing 80 total points suggests there were at least a few plays of gridiron excellence, or at least excitement. 

We were winning 58-18 with just a few minutes left in the fourth quarter, but this was also significant for a few other reasons. It was the last game of the regular season before Sectional Playoffs kicked off and our record was about to improve to 3-5. A 3-5 record means next to nothing for most football teams, but for us, going 3-5 felt like going to the moon. Crazier, actually. None of us had been to the moon, of course, but for the formerly worst high school football team in the state of Minnesota, a team that hadn’t won a game and scored only a few touchdowns over three calendar years, we imagined what the moon felt like and attacked that imagination by winning a few fucking games for a change. Territory a Minneapolis Southwest Lakers football team hadn’t traveled to for a very, very long time. 

It’s in those last few moments of a blowout is when football is at its most chaotic. Coaches on both sides empty their benches to get reps to the kids and developing players who never play when the game is in doubt. The game has been decided, but the second/third-stringers on the field are compelled to channel their inner Rudy Ruettiger and play like it’s the fucking Super Bowl. Meanwhile, both coaches are just hoping no one gets hurt. It’s an oxymoronic process, but one the laws of the game state must be observed. So that’s how I found myself on the field in the last minute on the right side of a 40-point blowout and the target of a trick play, which would also be my first target of the season. 

I thought I heard our offensive coordinator say we were running “a halfback pass to Terry” and that scene from Little Giants started playing in my head. “Pass to Terry?! You can’t pass to Terry! I’m Terry!!” 

No matter how little the play actually matters, it’s so weird to hear a play called for you after almost an entire season’s worth of plays called for others. Don’t get me wrong, no plays should have been called for me at all. I hadn’t played football since sixth grade and the only reason I came out and played as a senior was because our school’s brand new coach convinced me the days of losing for Southwest football were over, and because I had watched my friend Sam play his ass off on both sides of the ball for three years and never complain once. The way I saw it, I owed it to Sam to yell my encouragement from the sidelines instead of the stands while still standing safely away from the on-field action. I never claimed to be a hero, folks.

It wasn’t until I took my stance at the line of scrimmage I realized who was in the game at running back and had the task of throwing me the halfback pass. It was Nate Augspurger, younger brother of my friend Sam, the smallest player on the field, and someone who had never, ever thrown me a football in any circumstance. God bless garbage time. 

Now Nate was a very capable football player. He may have only weighed 110 pounds soaking wet in pads at the time, but he hit like a ton of bricks and our opponents always knew it. I knew it too from my own experience after going up against Nate in a one-on-one tackling drill, which ended in a resounding victory for Nate and a sprained wrist for me. Dick. 

My only instruction on this play was to “go deep.” So deep I went. As I ran as fast as I could in a straight line, I felt the defense fly by me in pursuit of Nate. I turned my head over my shoulder just in time to see my diminutive teammate uncork an absolute banger of a pass right as he got buried under a sea of blue jerseys.  

The pass was perfect. Equal parts Slingin’ Sammy Baugh and Steamin’ Willie Beamen. The ball soared forty yards through the air and fell softly into my wide-open hands. Shocked to stillness at my first reception, and the fact our trick play worked to perfection, I was promptly caught from behind, did not score what would have been the touchdown of my dreams, and the game ended. 

My athletic achievement may have peaked on the field that day, but Nate’s was just getting started. By the time ten years had passed after the 40-point ass-kicking we laid on Saint Paul Arlington, I got to brag about how I once caught a 40-yard bomb from a future U.S. Olympian. 

Nate was a good football player, but he found his true calling on the rugby pitch. He and Sam teamed up to win a Minnesota State High School Rugby Championship that spring, and both went on to play collegiate rugby for the hometown Gophers. 

Nate earned Collegiate All-American honors and eventually found himself representing USA Rugby’s Eagles 7s and Eagles XV for several cycles, which included the 2016 Olympics and the 2019 Rugby World Cup. Now a veteran player with the San Diego Legion of Major League Rugby, Nate’s contributions to the game go well beyond his breathtaking moves on the pitch. 

“Our biggest call to action for Product of Rugby is to one, buy our products and feed hungry kids. And two, to share with others how rugby has made a positive impact on your life,” Nate says. “We have a testimonial page on our website to share these stories and we would love to hear more of them so others know they can find a home in the rugby community that is so special.”  

Nate founded Product of Rugby with the philosophy of helping people in need and cultivating community through rugby. 

There are multiple ways to get involved. $5 of every sale on Product of Rugby will be donated to kids living in low food security circumstances. Rugby players, fans, and members of the community are encouraged to share, and submit to, the organization’s ‘Through the Posts’ series.

“Through the Posts is a way for those in the rugby community to share their own experiences to inspire and, hopefully, attract others to the sport,” Nate says. “The core values of the rugby community are inclusion, respect, and charity. We are committed to upholding those values and to providing much-needed relief to our community’s children who are facing hunger daily.”

To make a financial contribution, browse the Product of Rugby shop HERE.  Check out ‘Through the Posts’ HERE and submit your own rugby story HERE.

Be sure to find Product of Rugby on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook.