Suppose your son goes to a local high school, one of the few in the area with a rugby team, which he plays for. And suppose that team bills itself as the "Barbarians." Also suppose you're one of those parents who - inadvisedly - advertises their offspring's names and various activities on the back of their Land Rover for every douchebag with a blog to see.
I mean, I'm glad to hear "Christopher" is a Barbarian and all, but I'm not getting a very rapacious vibe.
Mongol General: Hao! Dai ye! We won again! This is good, but what is best in life?
Mongol: The open steppe, fleet horse, falcons at your wrist, and the wind in your hair.
Mongol General: Wrong! [Christopher]! What is best in life?
[Christopher]: To attend a Young Life meeting, buy a skinny decaf mochaccino, and ask Ashley to the prom.
Mongol General: That is good! That is good.
His Tree of Woe is probably getting sent to his room with no Xbox.
Actually, the Barbarians are also a scratch team in the UK - and, traditionally, the most upper class of them all…