One example took place on North Penn RFC's 1994 Toronto Tour, which I organized. We packed 19 players into a rented Winnebago, and headed north from Philadelphia. We finished a half-keg of beer before crossing the state line, and had to stop for a replacement. By the time we reached Syracuse NY, we were all well into our pints. Our front row (including me) decided to review and demonstrate some of the finer points of front row play. A rugby ball was produced, and we then decided it would be good idea to involve as many of the backs as possible in this demonstration. We wanted the backs to
appreciate the effort that we front row types put in. This soon evolved into full contact scrummaging, and then devolved into live rucking and mauling, and then further devolved into a huge wrestling match.  Suddenly, someone felt something wet and turned on the lights. There was blood everywhere (carpet, mattress, curtains, walls, everyone's clothes and kit). It looked like a murder scene. Since I was responsible for the 'bago I screamed drunkenly at the as-yet-unidentified IDIOT who had dared to get cut and spill his blood all over...only to discover that it was ME! 

I was bleeding heavily from a 14 inch gash that ran the length of my thigh from crotch to kneecap. I have no idea how I got cut, but "The Gash" (as later came to be know) was almost 1/2 inch wide at its thickest point. Our hooker wrapped my leg in a towel, taped it tight, and the party continued (although in a more subdued manner). I was furious and disgusted that I might not be able to play rugby the next day. Two hours later we arrived at our hotel. The Desk Clerk saw me (and the other guys, who also had blood all over them) and wanted to call an ambulance. We declined, but I asked to borrow a needle and thread.  Although I have absolutely no recollection of doing this, I then locked myself in the Men's Room and gave myself five stitches. I have no medical training, although I did have a sewing class when I was in Jr. High School. 

I somehow succeeded in closing the widest part of the cut. I am told that we all then went to the hotel bar for a few nightcaps. I did not play any rugby that weekend, but I still managed to have a wonderful time in Toronto. Miraculously, the cut healed without infection or incident, although it left a huge and grisly scar, which to this day serves as a conversation piece whenever out team travels.