"Soccer, mate! You do hear the accent, right?" Reggie teased. "Actually, I don't hate on American football too much, but I do find it a bit ridiculous that they have to wear all that bloody padding." People played rugby and they did alright. What were American footballers doing wrong that they needed all that stuff?
He reached up and touched the scar on his forehead. "I've only got this one scar because I'm usually good enough to get away unscathed," Reggie protested. "I don't see too many scars on you. Where are you hiding them at now?" He saw the rather nasty one on Jason's wrist and saw what looked like might be another peaking out of the back of his shirt, but two wasn't necessarily beating the hell out of just one.
Oh, Reggie did figure that he'd get his ass kicked by Jason eventually, but he could also put up a better fight than Jason might think. "Yeah, I'm serious," he told him. He did admit to himself that he was willing to take a few good licks to get up close and sweaty with Jason. "I may not be so well trained as you, but I've got a few moves that might surprise you."