Quake Rugby Isn’t a Drag

Photos by West Smith

I wrapped my arms around two giant men—the loosehead and tight head (positions, not names)—and twisted my hands into their jerseys. They gripped the waistband of my shorts, locking us together. Thank god I had worn spandex underneath, I thought, as my shorts hitched into a giant wedgie. Sweat dampened their backs. We leaned down, our weight one, our bodies together.

The egg-shaped ball lay at my feet. In a scramble of limbs, I hooked it—inelegantly—out the back of the scrum. The loosehead, tighthead, and I stood up. I gulped non-sweaty air. I smiled at my teammates. They smiled back. Only then did I remember what my face looked like. I was in drag.

For my latest exploration into Seattle subcultures, I joined Seattle Quake, the LGBTQ men’s rugby team, for practice on