If it were not for Rugger Buggers, the British ale brewing industry would have died out years ago. In recognition of this, there are certain rules and standards which should be observed by both sides of the arrangement.
In short, this boils down to one statement of fact that even the most brain-damaged of lock forwards can remember: no poncy drinks, you great poove.
As a barman of a certain vintage, I fully understand The Way of the Drunken Rugger Bugger, and, after a strenuous training course over the period of ten minutes, learned that only the following drinks – taken from an approved list - should be served to rugby players: REAL ale (preferably with dead things to add to the taste/alcohol retaining properties), Guinness, sweet sherry.
Any drink involving “lager”, “Babycham”, or is served in quantities of less than a pint are strictly verboten, unless consumed as chasers. Snakebite, the drink of cunts, students and student cunts is punishable by death.
The only acceptable bar request by a Rugger Bugger is: "Fifteen pints of your strongest, barman!", to which a companion must immediately chip in with the rejoinder "Excellent! I'll have fifteen pints as well!"
Within an hour, the singing will start, and a rolled up newspaper will be inserted up the scrum half's bumhole and set of fire because he ordered snakebite.
Then, like a tornado, the entire rugby team will depart, leaving the pub a mass of empty glasses and abandoned kit, with only the faintest of echoes of "I'm a stupid dicky-di-dildo" coming from the pub down the road, where the entire performance is repeated.
At closing time, you may find the scrum half, face down in the gents, his bottom like Hiroshima the Day After, all because he ordered snakebite.
Rugby players: Say no to snakebite.