It's Rugger, old bean
On Saturday I went up to Twickers with my dad. It was a really good day out. We had a few ales in Richmond, and wandered to the ground for the Match. The England pack were magnificent and totally destroyed the Australian forwards. Given this platform it should have been a rout, but our backs seemed rather aimless and despite long period of possession struggled to penetrate the (admittedly fine) Australian defence. In contrast, on the rare occasions when the Ozzy backs had the ball they looked exceedingly dangerous and the England defence had more holes than my favourite underwear.
So it was an exciting match. Although the fact that the south stand has been demolished means that you cannot see a scoreboard from the north end of the ground. About 10 minutes after half time we realised we weren’t sure what the score was. We thought we were winning but by how much?. So we asked the people around. And no one knew. Or rather everyone knew, but everyone thought something different. And it spread like ripples in a pool, as more and more people realised that they were not sure of the score and there was no scoreboard in sight. Then the chanting started … ‘what’s the sco-ore, what’s the sco-ore, what’s the hells the F**ing score’. Ok, its no sweet chariot, but I have to say that at £60 a ticket I expect to see a scoreboard, so fingers out RFU.
Anyway, we won fairly comfortably, but if our back line looks that tatty against the All Blacks then next Saturday were gonna get creamed.
So it was an exciting match. Although the fact that the south stand has been demolished means that you cannot see a scoreboard from the north end of the ground. About 10 minutes after half time we realised we weren’t sure what the score was. We thought we were winning but by how much?. So we asked the people around. And no one knew. Or rather everyone knew, but everyone thought something different. And it spread like ripples in a pool, as more and more people realised that they were not sure of the score and there was no scoreboard in sight. Then the chanting started … ‘what’s the sco-ore, what’s the sco-ore, what’s the hells the F**ing score’. Ok, its no sweet chariot, but I have to say that at £60 a ticket I expect to see a scoreboard, so fingers out RFU.
Anyway, we won fairly comfortably, but if our back line looks that tatty against the All Blacks then next Saturday were gonna get creamed.
posted by Old Man Rich at 3:45 PM
2 Comments:
Great story. Maybe the teams should pay for one of those nice ladies from boxing matches to walk around the field with large posterboards of the score.
Ok, given that my exposure to Brittish borne sports is from Harry Potter books, I have NO idea what you just said.
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