If it sometimes seems as though we’re speaking a different language, it’s probably because we are. The rest of the time, it’s just our own special brand of madness…
Note: this page will be updated regularly with any new Pilezspeak so keep clicking!
Ellie’s own personal understanding of the face of Andy Powell.
Because one ludicrous jawline-related nickname wasn’t enough for Quagmire. I mean The Big Doc. I mean Doctor Jamie. No, really, I mean Jamie Roberts. The Nickname Magnet.
Big Man, The
Sergio Parrise isn’t the biggest man, but he is a big man. That’s all you need to know.
This doesn’t really need explaining. Especially if you’re Irish.
An exclamation of Ospreylian origin, generally used with little discretion but with maximum intent.
Genuine Wales-speak. An affectionate hug.
Dieux du Stade, a rugby nudey calendar hiding behind a thin monochrome veil of high art. The brainchild of Uncle Gigi, Stade Francais’ finest and guests have been getting their kit off for a decade all in the name of effective time keeping. God bless you, boys.
Duck Wrangler, The
Of all the mental things Donncha O’Callaghan has ever done, luring a bevy of ducks into a hotel conference suite with a packet of Corn Flakes, merely for shits and giggles, is our favourite. Never stop being you, Donners.
Riki Flutey. It’s best not to overthink them, sometimes.
Gigi (see also: Uncle Gigi)
Max Guazzini, teak entrepreneur and impressario. Max is the wonderful madman who is responsible for the outlandishly migraine-inducing kits, naked calendars, bizarre publicity stunts and balls-to-the-wall insanity that is Stade Francais. He is Anna’s personal hero.
Genuine fangirl-speak. An especially enthusiastic hug, usually pounce-based.
See fig. a
Hook’d Claw, The
A slightly mean nickname directed at the actually very lovable and downright awesome James Hook. For best effect, adopt a Penelope Pitstop voice.
The act of sustaining a consecutive long-term injury. Said injury may or may not result in the growth of a mullet and production of low budget video interviews with team mates.
There has been much debate (between the four of us, that is) over the one true definition of a manpile. The term was originated by our own Kerrie, who broke down the ancient ritual of rugby thus: “Run, run, run, run, manpile!”. In it’s simplest form, therefore, a manpile is an adequate description of a ruck.
However, given the tendency for rugby boys to be a bit huggy in general, the term has evolved to encompass the kind of victorious group glomp illustrated in fig. b
A Pile of Manz
The manpile is an internationl phenomenon:
Un pile des hommes
Un muccio delgi uomini
Never seen The Day Today? Shame on you.
A chain of Portugese chicken restaurants of South African origin which the average rugby player appears to think about/talk about/visit approximately seven million times a week. If Nando’s were to ever fall, rugby would surely follow.
Another cruel nickname, this came about when Lee Byrne started to encourage the people of South Wales to exchange their unwanted gold for cash money. We love you, Byrney.
Pie Man, The
In 2009, a false pastry idol modelled in the (alleged) likeness of legendary Welsh winger Shane Williams went on tour and caused Lauren to suffer a near-fatal fit of giggles. This article went to great pains to differentiate between Shane (pie) and Shane (man). Thus, a nickname was born.
At the time of writing, the pie was thought to have fired its band and abandoned a tour of North America in favour of a coke-fuelled bender in Paraguay with half a dozen former Whitesnake groupies. The man remains a tiny rugby genius.
An annoying Heat magazine-style portmanteau for Ryan Jones. Don’t look at me like that. We are girls, in case you’d forgotten.
Jones, that is. Come on, he’s a superhero and you know it. He also has a smile that could melt the hearts of a thousand misers and bastards.
Words by the team, explanations by Anna