219 points. Part 1.

footwork

After a long enforced absence due to having to write poetry for part of an assignment I have to produce; I was left with no option but to write about the rugby that took place at Chesham over the weekend.


It all started on Friday with the Wales v England game, we had a massive turn out at the club with loads of old boys joining the many young ones in what was a great atmosphere. I have to say it was a really memorable night it was nice to catch up and chat and generally enjoy the game. The result helps but it was just a good night, if a little drunken and we all strolled/stumbled into town and continued; old and young in the local pub.

Saturday started with a few sore heads and a lot of absences, with people being away, either skiing or just drinking. We were without 21 frontline players; however the club was still able to put out three teams. This achievement is truly remarkable and a great example of the work put in behind the scenes by club captains and team captains to put together sides that are able to compete. Admittedly sometimes you just have to put your hands together and pray that it all comes off and it did in startling fashion.

I watched the first team take on Banbury II’s and was so impressed with how the game was handled and the ferocity of the warm up, which had been missing for some time, was the marker of the no passenger’s policy that was going to be played out. When the game kicked off Chesham looked so in control and so dangerous. They used all their players well, and set a standard that they are going to have to improve on, and work hard to beat, in the tough games they have coming up. Let’s not beat around the bush the opposition were awful but no other team in the league has beaten them as comprehensively. It goes to show the strength in depth we are starting to find in the club. Our young prop, who has bags of talent to be a great player either in the pack or in the backs if he can just decide whether he can stop eating for 5 mins was a standout player. Another young player, playing full back for the first time, continued his impressive improvement, to score one of the best trys of the weekend. At half time with a commanding lead it’s easy to switch off and come out and ball watch in the hope of getting on the score sheet; Chesham didn’t do that they came out with even more focus and scored again early. The final score was 81-0 and set down a marker that a few teams will stand up and take notice of.

The seconds, playing against the team I spent 80 mins trying to fight on one of my first games and lost not only the fight but the game, continued the good news thumping them 54-7(or something similar). There the young man playing fly half put in his third quality performance in a row as he led his team around the park in a controlled and efficient manner while his forwards carried on their good work for 80mins as the clubs huge fitness improvements showed all around the field.

Our third team went away and faced a wily old team who know their stuff and battled hard but it was a bridge to far and despite great effort came away with a narrow defeat. A third team in the circumstance of the availability of the weekend for me though is a win despite the result and they will continue to build as we did in the seconds a few years ago.

I have had great days at Chesham rugby club, this season, more great ones than bad. This weekend was probably the best. To say that having not even laced up a boot I find quite remarkable. The more I watch the more inclined I am to leave my boots festering in the bag and end my playing days with past memories of 40 meter tries, a 5 try season and winning more games than I lost. Than actually trying to make yet another comeback and receive yet another injury. I had a lot of fun but I no longer have the desire to play and to be honest I am enjoying my role as a supporter and tee carrier.

Friends + Snow + Travel = Epic!

Made it!

I spoke to a random stranger last week about friendships and how they are not always a tangible thing. Sometimes they change and develop; sometimes they grow; sometimes they fall away. Like everything in life they are ever changing and ever challenging.


This weekend as a result of a trip to Paris top watch a rugby match, my friendships were tested, challenged, grown and above all enjoyed. In what became an epic journey we had a lot of fun looking back the sense of achievement in getting to the game just after kick off, was only bettered by the sense of achievement I felt at actually getting home. I say ‘sense of achievement.’ I actually have to thank the people I was travelling with. As I slipped into a state of incomprehension at what the next move was going to be; people were on the phone to UK and rounding up the resources to get us from Paris to the UK. I went along for the ride, I wish I could have bought more to the party but in a way with so many organisers it is sometimes better if some people don’t interfere! Well that my excuse.



Old friends

 After we actually got to the game we headed back to our base for the weekend cheered by our patients at an 11 hour flight delay. Unaware of the chaos that was growing overhead as more snow was falling. On the Saturday I met up with an old friend who I knew, long before I even was aware of the existence of the good friends I travelled to France with. Since we last met she has made a new home in Paris and become a mother to 2 little Parisians. I spent a lovely extended lunch sinking some wine and eating Roquefort on toast; my old friend battled with stroppy waiters and evil French people: devastated that two British people were taking up seats in their eating establishment. After a great couple of hours we parted company. The trip and the forthcoming chaos were all worth it, to catch up with such a good friend, with whom over the years I had shared some great experiences in the past.

After the fastest trip around Paris which involved arriving at great landmarks taking a quick photo before route marching to the next destination was hard graft! The snow was falling heavier as we decamped to a bar and found the most stereotypical French waiter on earth, as well as the black waistcoat and long black apron he was also in possession of a waxed moustache, a surly face and glasses just small enough to peer over with distain as we ordered a couple of bottles of vin rouge, in broken French. Despite a nice few drinks the fear of the trip home was not far from the back of our minds and as we made our way back to the hotel.

When we awoke we were under a few inches of snow and found out early our flight was cancelled and so began the long trip home. First a train, then a tube then a longer train from Paris to Calais all along the route the 13 that arrived slowly dwindled in number. 6 not leaving the hotel, 2 making their way to the airport and 5 of us taking the decision to head to Calais and on route organise ferry tickets and a mini bus at the other end. Ironically we got home in less time than the journey out to France. Along the way we had tantrums, mainly from me, we had moments where it looked like we wouldn’t make it, but above all we had fun, in a sick way, it felt like an achievement we would be proud of. My friends all of whom I had encountered through the brotherhood and sisterhood of rugby had made it home and we were better for it. I will say this though: I am never leaving Chesham again!

England!

Bed!

3 Teams.

In the last few weeks I have seen so much rugby, of such varying standard that I have found myself trying to look at the similarities they all have to each other. The various states of development all the teams I have seen are in and where they are all going in the future.


I have had the privilege of seeing England get squeezed by the All Blacks- at this point I want to bring up what I said about Hosea Gear in the summer. I knew he was good: on his trip over to the UK, I think he proved himself more than capable of holding onto his shirt for some time to come. My stand out performer of the tour- The same England produce a master class against Australia, battle past Samoa and then fall short against an aggressive and wounded Springbok team. Despite the last game I have never felt more positive about England. The six nations are going to be a tough tournament but I am predicting England to win it this year. So that’s England: a team in development.

That brings me to the Chesham men’s team. I have watched this team start to grow and find its feet and I have nothing but a positive feeling about where they are going. The youngsters continue to grow in confidence and that is what they need most. They have in the armoury, all the equipment to win games. They just need to start believing in themselves. The old heads have a role to play in that and something we are very bad at is providing positive encouragement. Stand on the sidelines and you can hear everyone telling people what they are doing wrong but struggle to hear people telling people what they are doing well. The coach is the one whose job it is to lay into people, the supporters have the job of doing exactly what the name suggests “supporting”.

Then my last but not least team the Chesham Women. I have after some resistance found myself involved in the team again in a small way assisting the coaching and going to the games and helping to get the women prepared and warmed up. To be honest it is pretty much suited to me, putting out a few cones then coming on and trotting out a few things at half time. The women have it sussed they have a few wise heads out there; who know more about what they need to do than me and they communicate it perfectly. All that said this weekend seeing the girls take to the field with 15 players was so good, it was just a joy to watch and I tell you something else they were good, very good. What I would give to be able to have that availability every week. With the addition of the players we were missing on Sunday you would have a league winning squad of players with no problems. Does that sound arrogant? Only if you don’t think it’s true.

Positives





Well another eighty minuets of rugby under my belt and I have to say it was far more enjoyable than the last eighty minutes. I still hate losing, but I have learnt to realise that in a team sport which involves games against teams of all manner of skills. You sometimes have to except you can’t change the world and you can only do your best. Individually I felt I did ok and offered a lot more by way of positive encouragement than I have done in the last few outings. I know I need to reign in my big mouth a bit but when I feel the need to say something I find it hard to stop myself. I made a couple of shocking errors, the biggest one that haunts me is the missed tackle on the centre who left me with more pain in my shoulder than any full on tackle ever could have. The second pushing out and calling a drift only to overrun my man I was left to tackle. I tend to at times beat myself up over these things and I have to say on this occasion I was right to. Silly mistakes and the first allowed in a try. Having to take pills after games which mean I can’t drink was harder than I thought possible. That said: no migraines so it seemed to work, however the thought of not being able to drink on the final autumn international weekend is too much. So it’s social over playing for me this weekend. As a result of Saturday’s game I really want another one. As I was stepping on the platform of retirement (again); I found that maybe there were still another couple of stops left on my journey and I have to thank a lot of the people who have been so positive and encouraging. It’s hard to pick someone up when they seem to keep falling down but people have been brilliant in doing that for me.

Some of the youngsters and some oldies who started the season.

The young lads again led the way around the field on Saturday. The 2 young flankers had real standout performances. I have developed an unbelievable respect for these young lads who have come through our club. Every one of them I take to the field with exceeds my expectations. They put in a work rate that is far and beyond what I can do and they also play with their heads up. They seem to be coming out of the woodwork at such a rate; each week I see another one with great potential and great skill. Even though they all love beating me up and smashing me around I can’t help but feel hugely protective of all of them. It’s not just in the men’s section that this is the case. I got to watch the junior girls play on Sunday and in amongst them, some players with great potential. The ones who have stepped up this year into our senior women’s side have already shown how quickly they can settle into the set up. Not only are these young rugby players filled with talent and capable individuals they are all genuinely nice lads and lasses too. They are entertaining and enjoyable company. I have socialised with a few of the guys who came into the adult section this year and although at times I feel like I have stepped into an episode of ‘the inbetweeners’ I can’t help but enjoy it. Managing them in a rugby sense and keeping them all keen is the real challenge facing the club.

Scrum Again

I love the scrum; I love it so much I could easily watch eighty minutes of it. At international level, you can have great trys and I appreciate the deft skill of these flighty ball handlers. They work their way through defences; unlocking them like a prison guard opening cell doors at slop out time but for me these are different games. The one that sees people: fleet of foot, dancing through a psychotic back row, intent on destruction, is beautiful. There is a huge part of me that wishes I had the ability to step and dance like that. However, like my golf swing, which resembles a man throwing a sack of spuds onto a lorry, my stepping ability looks like a man trying to put out his shoes after they have been set alight.

The scrum though. The scrum is more than beautiful. When those eight men are locked together like a giant 3 headed mythical beast and stop being eight individuals; when the focus of the one, becomes the focus of all for five seconds of furious battle. They share the same goal, a destructive aggressive aim to rip apart the threat that sits in front of it. When you get a scrum right; when all the shoulders shunt up; when all the feet move forward at the same time, there is little sensation capable of bettering that feeling in the world; When the opposition start to grip on to the turf in a desperate bid to hold their ground before finally letting go and retreating. The feeling is primitive; the feeling is all the things we are encouraged not to feel in our lives; dominance of someone else through sheer physical force.

To the outsider it all sounds a bit odd, a bit of a weird thing to do for pleasure. To those who do it and most importantly enjoy it, there is no better place to be. That is the key though; there are hundreds of front row players who dream of being a ten, or an outside centre. They don’t want to be in the scrum, they are just biding their time for that call to glory. “Prop we need a new fly half, we decided on you”, is how they dream it will happen; it never does. These players are worth their weight in gold. The pillars of the game; you can have your miss pass, dummy switch, back inside to the full back. Me I would rather see a push over try.

A Better Day. Weekend Part 2.

On the Charge.

You will see this is part 2 of the weekend. I don’t really wish to advertise part 1. So we will just leave it at that.

Now I woke up Sunday feeling pretty fed up. The thought of travelling across London in the rain to watch the women play wasn’t really top of my list but I really was pleased to see the Chesham team take to the field again.

I have said before that for rugby games to take place it involves an awful lot of work from the same very few people. The people who have fought and battled, to get a team together to play on Sunday, deserve all the respect that they can be given. They did not give up when they easily could have; they didn’t walk away when so many others did. They kept on, they battled and they pulled in every favour they could find to get the team back onto the field. As achievements go I don’t think they come much bigger. You could see in the face of the captain on the day and the players that have battled with her to make it happen how much it meant. That enthusiasm filtered all the way through the team.

I am not going to glamorise the game it was a very confusing thing to watch as Kilburn looked like team intent on smashing through Chesham. Chesham had other ideas and regularly sent them backwards. The truth is though the result, which was a resounding victory for Chesham was secondary to the attitude and effort the team put in. Players playing their first games were put in positions players in their first games don’t often have to play. Yet they did it without complaint, and they did it well. People were asked to hook who had never hooked and did it well. The scrum half played out of position and was quite brilliant. The team was lead well and in the right places you had some experience to guide people around the field.

The most exciting thing about the game is the young players coming in. Raw talent and pace was in abundance and really good players. Everything in life goes through cycles. The same thing stands for rugby clubs. Our men’s team is in a cycle of growth and development which is impressive. The women’s team also now has light at the end of the tunnel with youngsters coming in who can start to create a team of their own and take ownership of it and its responsibilities.

Actions Speak Louder than Words. Weekend Part 1.

Take everything I wrote last week and throw it away. I don’t think I have ever been as disappointed with myself as I was on Saturday. Not just the performance, but the behaviour was something I am mortally ashamed of.


I had so many high hopes for the game so much desire to make a difference and really I was left floundering. I basically walked my way from one scrap to another around the rugby field unable to provide any real impact on the game. There are one or two things I really need to sort out before I can carry on. All in all it was a very frustrating 80 minutes and as my good friend said to me after the game. I allowed myself to be “mindf****d” and you couldn’t sum it up with any more eloquent language. That was exactly what had happened.

In the past I would have sucked it up, but this guy was shouting all the things I was thinking in my head. Verbalising my own annoyances and I let it get to me. When I missed a tackle I heard my opposition prop shout “haha ha ha ha good work prop what a great tackle”, It’s worse when someone tells you something you are already screaming at yourself. I went the only way I knew how which was trying and punch him at every opportunity and choke the life out of him at the scrum. I actually wanted to physically hurt him. It was so bad; I am ashamed to admit I never even shook his hand at the end of the game. I didn’t want to, I didn’t like him and I didn’t want to pretend it was all harmless fun. It wasn’t, my pride was seriously hurt my ego smashed. That is all I want to say about it. Let’s call this an apology to all the people I played with on Saturday.