A/N: I find this highly amusing and very, very cool. My house is situated between Watson Road and Holmes Avenue. No joke. Both streets are within walking distance of my house.
Often Watson and I would take leisurely strolls through Hyde Park and ramble about obscure and unrelated topics. It was on one such stroll that we passed by a group of university lads playing rugby.
Watson had mentioned that he used to play rugby when we moved in together at 221b, but he never elaborated on it much.
I didn't pay much attention to the game as we walked by until a rugby ball struck me square in the shoulder. I rubbed my arm ruefully and turned to face a distraught young man running up to us. Watson bent to pick up the ball and made to throw it to the lad, but hesitated. I knew he was thinking of his own shoulder.
"Very sorry, sir, that was a wild throw!" The lad said, apologizing profusely to me. He turned towards Watson to collect the ball, and stopped in his tracks.
"Excuse me sir, but you aren't John Watson, are you?"
Watson's eyebrows shot up. "I am he,"
The young man's eyes lit up, and he began to wring Watson's hand enthusiastically.
"Oh, sir, it is an honor to meet you! I've been a supporter of The Club* all my life- I was a big fan of yours, sir. The team has never really been the same without you, Mr. Watson!"
"Doctor" I corrected, amused and a little intrigued by the scene playing out.
"A doctor! Well, sir, you could have made a star rugby player if you had wanted to, I'm sure!" He turned around and gestured to a few of his mates excitedly.
I cocked an eyebrow at my friend, only to receive a bewildered glance.
"This here, lads, is John Watson!"
The others reacted much the same as the first, and Watson shook all of their hands.
"I don't suppose you could play with us, Dr. Watson?"
Watson smiled sadly. "No, lads, I'm afraid I did in my shoulder in Afghanistan."
I pondered this while Watson dealt with the rugby players. I had no idea Watson had been such a good player- he never mentioned it. I supposed it would have been a sad topic, considering he couldn't participate in it anymore. I compared his not being able to play rugby to my not being able to use my chemistry set anymore, and wondered why he did not pout or complain about it more.
Then I remembered that he was Watson. Pout, indeed.
"It seems you are quite the legend," I remarked when he finally extricated himself from the lads.
"I'd no idea that I'd made such an impact," he admitted, shaking his head.
"You make an impact wherever you go, old fellow."
A/N: I find it funny that Watson is a jock and Holmes is a chemistry nerd. Friendship conquers all.
*Blackheath (Watson's old team) was simply called 'The Club' back then.
