London Irish
(Fake) Blood, Sweat and Tears
By Cormac
November 1 2009
Cormac traveled to the Twickenham Stoop with, it seems, a song in his heart. He came back less chipper but at least produced a fabulous report for us to read.
I thought I’d have another go at verse.
You thought last week was grim? Well this was worse.
The Irish, with a host of chances spurned,
Gave Harlequins a draw they didn’t earn.
You’re wond’ring where the previous ballad’s at?
Just Google “How on earth did we do that”
And “London Irish” (need to use the quotes),
To read about the team we love the most.
The season hadn’t started well for Quins –
All summer long, we revelled in their sins.
But, just in case you haven’t got a handle
On why the coach resigned, well here’s the scandal:
Their problem – if I’ve got the gist of it –
Was with their quite atrocious playing kit.
The issue: their sartorial malfunction
Was from a party shop in Clapham Junction!
Well anyway, let’s talk about the game.
The Irish run the ball, and Quins the same.
With any luck, there’d be a nice, high score –
And hopefully a little phony gore.
The game was played beneath a golden sky.
The ground was firm, and promised plenty tries –
Conditions you could not improve upon.
With teams like these, the running game was on…
The Quins kicked off, and had the early pressure.
We straight away incurred the ref’s displeasure,
And Rory Clegg, their callow, young fly-half
Soon punished us for our defensive gaffe.
Well, Ryan missed a penalty soon after,
But then provoked the crowd’s derisive laughter,
A penalty to touch was simple bread
And butter, but he went and kicked it dead!
The Harlequins defence was hard to crack,
Until a move from Irish pack and backs
Produced an easy penalty for Ryan –
He stuck it over, hardly even trying.
An injury to Tagicakibau
Meant off he went for Richards – holy cow!
We’re really running short of speedy wingers!
And Homer wasn’t in the squad (too ginger?)
The Irish trav’llers made a right old din,
“I’d rather be a Paddy than a Quin”
The home crowd doesn’t even have a song –
They just shout “Har! Le! Quins!” and clap along.
Now Lamby gave the Irish side the lead,
For pulling down the scrum was Quins’ misdeed.
It seemed to us he hooked it massively,
But back it swerved, and over – score? 6-3.
We had the upper hand in loose and scrum,
But scoring chances simply wouldn’t come,
And both sides’ games were spoilt by unforced errors.
We should be well ahead, now, come on fellas!
A penalty to Quins meant we were even,
And half-time came, with nobody believing
The second half could bring the longed-for flood
Of tries? Excitement? OK, just fake blood.
The second half began in sim’lar vein,
With both teams trying hard to play their game.
The Irish, having plenty of the ball
Just couldn’t breach the Quins’ defensive wall.
A minor fight erupted, then was gone.
The ref saw sense, both parties staying on.
The sides swapped slip and gaffe, and kick and catch,
Until the greatest moments of the match.
A lovely break by Brown, a chip ahead,
He left the chasing Irish backs for dead.
But Steffon got there – he was shifting some –
And touched it down – a Quins’ five-metre scrum.
The scrum went down a couple times, and then
They rushed towards our line, and charged again.
The crowd was going mad, the atmos tense,
The Irish tackled – desperate defence.
Then, inexplicably, the Quins’ nerve cracked.
They should have just continued to attack –
But Rory Clegg, he tried to drop a goal.
It looked OK – then came back off the pole!
That should have been the end – it fell to Maps
He set off quick – but oh, the silly chap!
He passed it to a Quin – a ruck, a scrum,
A Richards fly-hack, then the threat was gone.
Some changes on the pitch: Malone for Ryan,
And Alfie’s off, so Richards goes to nine.
Now Hewat’s on the wing, and Jamie Lennard
Is at the back – no changes in the centres.
A Hewat penalty, and it’s 9-6.
He leathered it – still rising through the sticks.
But Clegg, he has them choking on their Pimms
A crazy, long-range drop – miss! Silly Quin!
The clock ticks down – the game is far too close.
We should have killed it off, but now our hosts
Will not give up the fight – they keep on probing,
And STILL no artificial haemoglobin!
It’s so predictable – the last attack,
A penalty to Quins, and then we’re back
Beneath the posts, to watch the win expire –
The whistle goes. It went right to the wire.
A shocking game of rugby – very dour,
But vital not to let one’s grapes be sour.
The Harlequins defended well, it’s true,
You have to give it up where credit’s due.
So there we are – we come home with a draw.
Nine-all – a game we would have won but for
A last-ditch penalty to Harlequins:
A game that neither side deserved to win.
You thought last week was grim? Well this was worse.
The Irish, with a host of chances spurned,
Gave Harlequins a draw they didn’t earn.
You’re wond’ring where the previous ballad’s at?
Just Google “How on earth did we do that”
And “London Irish” (need to use the quotes),
To read about the team we love the most.
The season hadn’t started well for Quins –
All summer long, we revelled in their sins.
But, just in case you haven’t got a handle
On why the coach resigned, well here’s the scandal:
Their problem – if I’ve got the gist of it –
Was with their quite atrocious playing kit.
The issue: their sartorial malfunction
Was from a party shop in Clapham Junction!
Well anyway, let’s talk about the game.
The Irish run the ball, and Quins the same.
With any luck, there’d be a nice, high score –
And hopefully a little phony gore.
The game was played beneath a golden sky.
The ground was firm, and promised plenty tries –
Conditions you could not improve upon.
With teams like these, the running game was on…
The Quins kicked off, and had the early pressure.
We straight away incurred the ref’s displeasure,
And Rory Clegg, their callow, young fly-half
Soon punished us for our defensive gaffe.
Well, Ryan missed a penalty soon after,
But then provoked the crowd’s derisive laughter,
A penalty to touch was simple bread
And butter, but he went and kicked it dead!
The Harlequins defence was hard to crack,
Until a move from Irish pack and backs
Produced an easy penalty for Ryan –
He stuck it over, hardly even trying.
An injury to Tagicakibau
Meant off he went for Richards – holy cow!
We’re really running short of speedy wingers!
And Homer wasn’t in the squad (too ginger?)
The Irish trav’llers made a right old din,
“I’d rather be a Paddy than a Quin”
The home crowd doesn’t even have a song –
They just shout “Har! Le! Quins!” and clap along.
Now Lamby gave the Irish side the lead,
For pulling down the scrum was Quins’ misdeed.
It seemed to us he hooked it massively,
But back it swerved, and over – score? 6-3.
We had the upper hand in loose and scrum,
But scoring chances simply wouldn’t come,
And both sides’ games were spoilt by unforced errors.
We should be well ahead, now, come on fellas!
A penalty to Quins meant we were even,
And half-time came, with nobody believing
The second half could bring the longed-for flood
Of tries? Excitement? OK, just fake blood.
The second half began in sim’lar vein,
With both teams trying hard to play their game.
The Irish, having plenty of the ball
Just couldn’t breach the Quins’ defensive wall.
A minor fight erupted, then was gone.
The ref saw sense, both parties staying on.
The sides swapped slip and gaffe, and kick and catch,
Until the greatest moments of the match.
A lovely break by Brown, a chip ahead,
He left the chasing Irish backs for dead.
But Steffon got there – he was shifting some –
And touched it down – a Quins’ five-metre scrum.
The scrum went down a couple times, and then
They rushed towards our line, and charged again.
The crowd was going mad, the atmos tense,
The Irish tackled – desperate defence.
Then, inexplicably, the Quins’ nerve cracked.
They should have just continued to attack –
But Rory Clegg, he tried to drop a goal.
It looked OK – then came back off the pole!
That should have been the end – it fell to Maps
He set off quick – but oh, the silly chap!
He passed it to a Quin – a ruck, a scrum,
A Richards fly-hack, then the threat was gone.
Some changes on the pitch: Malone for Ryan,
And Alfie’s off, so Richards goes to nine.
Now Hewat’s on the wing, and Jamie Lennard
Is at the back – no changes in the centres.
A Hewat penalty, and it’s 9-6.
He leathered it – still rising through the sticks.
But Clegg, he has them choking on their Pimms
A crazy, long-range drop – miss! Silly Quin!
The clock ticks down – the game is far too close.
We should have killed it off, but now our hosts
Will not give up the fight – they keep on probing,
And STILL no artificial haemoglobin!
It’s so predictable – the last attack,
A penalty to Quins, and then we’re back
Beneath the posts, to watch the win expire –
The whistle goes. It went right to the wire.
A shocking game of rugby – very dour,
But vital not to let one’s grapes be sour.
The Harlequins defended well, it’s true,
You have to give it up where credit’s due.
So there we are – we come home with a draw.
Nine-all – a game we would have won but for
A last-ditch penalty to Harlequins:
A game that neither side deserved to win.
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Discussion started by The Craic www.londonirish.org , 01/11/2009 11:27
The Craic www.londonirish.org
01/11/2009 11:27
01/11/2009 11:27
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Awesome, and you found something that rhymes with Tagicakibau!
Well, that's raised the bar for match reporters...
Just as well the Munchkin's already got one in so it doesn't suffer too much by comparison - well written, Cormac!
Edit for typo.
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 2009:11:02:13:15:13 by AMS.
Just as well the Munchkin's already got one in so it doesn't suffer too much by comparison - well written, Cormac!
Edit for typo.
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 2009:11:02:13:15:13 by AMS.
Some words of appreciation for catty from us quins!!
Thought yours was brilliant.
What talent!
Quote:A personal word of appreciation to Mike Catt – The 11-year-old Jamie and I, sit in front of the opposition coaches. Mike and Toby Booth were getting a bit emotional and colourful – I had reason to remonstrate – politely, of course.
Quote:Quins match reportThey stopped and after the game Mike Catt made a point to shake hands and apologise to young Jamie and me – It had a huge impact on young Jamie, that even role models like Catty could transgress but recognise the error, and were big enough to say so and apologise!
Thought yours was brilliant.
What talent!
Nice one! Even had some rhymes in there too! Better tell Rodders to up his game!
The game's afoot;
Follow your spirit: and upon this charge,
Cry — God for Harry! England and Saint George
The game's afoot;
Follow your spirit: and upon this charge,
Cry — God for Harry! England and Saint George
Quote:AMS
Well, that's raised the bar for match reporters...
Indeed it has! Hmm I do believe MaggieH and I are writing the next report! I apologise in advance that it won't match the very high standard set!!
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