FRIENDLY
09/02/08
BATTERSEA IRONSIDES 2S v LONDON CORNISH 3s

Battersea Ironsides 2s 0 - London Cornish 3s 12

No 4s game this week and, with several 3s regulars rested, a good chance to see some new and returning faces. Every pun is intended by that last sentence, as with the return of Showpony and Ross Taylor we had comfortably the best looking team fielded by the club this season. In fact, the opposition only agreed to take to the pitch on the condition that each of them applied copious amounts of vasoline to their cheekbones lest some nasty injury occur.

Changing the subject quickly, the clear sky and bright sunshine mocked the claims of the worldwide industrial lobby that there is no proof of global warming, and justified my decision to go with the gold kit this week rather than the heat absorbing black number. Confusion over the kick off time and my over-zealous introduction of fines for latecomers (with the first person fined being, er, me) meant that the entire squad assembled at Dog Sh*t Park a full hour before kick off. Stand in skipper Q had disappeared somewhere and so Crawford stepped up to the plate and suggested a "gentle jog, nothing too strenuous". Chilly (showing his years of experience by opting out of all of this) and I watched with increasing amusement as Sergeant Major Henderson had the squad sprinting, pacing and coughing their way around the pitch. Once. Then twice. And then again. Then onto some moves, and an improvement on most weeks as Ed Shield's improved time keeping meant that he was able to meet his jumpers before kick off. And that was done. Still no sign of the opposition. So some grids. Still no sign. And some unopposed. And then they appeared, and probably took heart from the fact that by this stage we sounded more like the Guys & Thomas Asmathic XV than the Cornish third team. The Irons were a decent outfit and had power and pace within their team. So they should have, as they were a second team. They applied pressure in the forwards, but our scrum, anchored well by Andy Lea, held firm, allowing Bev and Q the chance to unleash a talented backline. Cornish pressure eventually led to a classic poacher's try from Dom "I beg to differ" Curran after a little chip through by Bev, but then the Irons came back, launching some attacks but stopped by some stout Cornish defence, with some huge (and possibly illegal) tackles from the Boy Band Duo of Showpony and Ross. Half time came with no more score, despite the fact that for the first time at this level I was able to witness a Cornish backline spin pass a ball across the entire width of the pitch.

The second half saw more of the same, with both teams launching pacey attacks that were stopped by stout defence. I was worried about how to give everyone maximum gametime, but rolling subs were combined with some very girly niggles (note Chilly's claim to have a "stinger" injury as well as any injury cited by Glass Bob Oakley). Honourable mentions to returning part-timers Dom "You're talking b*llocks there mate" Curran and Jonny H-P for strong performances, and after some heave-hoing we eventally fashioned some space in the centres for Crawford to burst through and speed over for the clinching try. Cheers to the Irons, who were a good opposition, although they may need to find a better drinking champion than the man they produced in the bar afterwards. Special shouts out to (1) their ref, who stepped in at the last moment and did a good job and (2) the size of the jugs (as in jugs of beer, and not the remarkable jugs one may find down at Sutton & Epsom. Cold shower time.) - like something out of Tom Brown's Schooldays and enough beer in there to get satisfy even Cloughy's thirst.

Man of the Match: another of those games where everyone played well, with mentions to Ross and Neil in the centres, Cloughy, Showpony and Ed in the forwards and, as always, Chilly. This week it was a close call, with Crawford getting the Irons' vote but Andy Lea getting my vote and therefore the award. Solid in the scrums, and with one absolutely comedy break: after 20 yards he was distinctly heard asking the opposition to tackle him. And where does he get all his female support from? Tw*t of the Match: this went to Glass Bob who, after a 90 minute journey from Essex for his first appearance of the season, hurt his neck in the warm up and only managed 20 minutes. I also finally managed to nail Dom "Have you ever f*cking coached a rugby team before?" Curran for daring to disagree with me at half time on his last appearance, and I must say revenge really is a dish best served cold.

LCRFC – Team: Crawford Henderson, Dom Curran, Bob Oakley, Jon Richardson, Neil Sullivan, Ross Taylor, Quentin Peri (capt), Rob McGruer, Martin Bevan; Brendan Dunstan-Smith, Ed Shield, Andy Lea, James O'Brien, Alex Clough, Mike Lunn, Showpony, Jim Chilcott, Jonny Hulbert-Powell, Luke Carrivick


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