By Bisach
September 24 2006

New “boys toys” from work, an effortless trip to see “The Angel”, good company, good food and less expensive (but better quality drinks,) side trips to Durham Cathedral and Nottingham Castle and a London Irish game in between them somewhere. Pretty standard London Irish Craic Tour if you ask me.

Fortunately, at the LISC AGM, Mr Dean accepted the offer of a lift up to KP which meant I wouldn’t be needed to do the actual match report (honest Guv, I had already volunteered, off-board, to maintain anonymity.) It also meant that the outlook for the game was good from the outset as a LI Game/Mr Dean Report combo invariably means a win for the team.

The cloudy start to the day didn’t dampen the spirits and it was made so much better for only having to wait for 3 light changes at High Wycombe M40 J4 for a change.

Obviously Yorkshire is the dropping off point for all flagging hurricanes as Gordon decided to hit just as we drove over the South Yorkshire border. It had obviously availed itself of some Ryder Cup hospitality on the way over as the rain never got too heavy until we actually got to Newcastle.

While Mr Dean enjoyed himself taking in the shopping delights offered by Doncaster Lakeside, I detoured to our HQ in Doncaster to pick up some new “toys”. I had to make the trip worthwhile somehow.

Another quick detour for a spot of lunch (apparently Mr Dean’s minted lamb shank was delightful.) I say quick, however, a combination of the renaming of a pub and Mr Dean’s directional memory meant the detour was a little longer then expected. Don’t ask me the name of the place we went to, I’ve forgotten.

Onwards and upwards we continued. I have now realised what “The angel of the North” actually is. It’s a signal for people to prepare themselves for the Newcastle ringroad carpark as soon as they see it in the distance. The only traffic trouble we had the whole 2 days was the stretch from the Angel to the Kingston turnoff.

Anyway, the Twin Farms was eventually reached and Mary (of Glen and Mary fame) kindly offered to look after Russell’s package from Marie. I didn’t fancy lugging it back from the hotel after we checked in which we duly did and where Mr Dean’s camera was warmed up nicely by 5 local “pretties” waiting for the Metro. Again, I say local, but perhaps they weren’t “too” local as they looked to have more clothes on than the norm for a night out in Newcastle. Some of their skin was actually hidden. Shame on them I say.

By the time we got back to the Twin Farms, it was filling up nicely and more of the 300, sorry 30, visiting supporters had and were arriving. The usual, excellent, pre match fare of “the Farms” was partaken of before we made the arduous walk round the corner to the Stadium. Perhaps, in future, someone could try out the new “Duo Dieci” Italian restaurant that has been opened in the stadium’s west stand. I did hear a rumour that, as a new regular event at the stadium, there were also some lovely dancing ladies in “The Hideaway” (downstairs in the east stand to you and me.) Unfortunately, we didn’t get that far until too late to check to see if it was true.

Sadly, the Pork and/or beef rolls no longer exist in the South stand bars but the 2 pint vases were very much still in evidence. According to Carlovian.C, the white wine on offer was quite acceptable and I must say, it was quite nice, after last week, to actually get change after buying a round.

As is the wont of LI supporters, “the message” was spread out around the ground. This meant that there weren’t any large groups of away support, just small vocal pockets. Well the 6 in our group were certainly vocal accompanied by 3 Bodhrans and Marie’s flag. We did spot Kath and ??? (Jaz’s grand elders) at the front of the stand. Being so tall he could see if he stood below ground level. Speaking to Graham later, he reckoned we couldn’t be heard, but from our standing position, the 30 visiting supporters around the ground seemed to make much more noise then the 6030 home spectators (except when Barry was kicking. Did some errant diamondgeezers think they were playing the Falcons last night and make the trip up?)

As an aside, we met PJ’s son who would like me to say hello to his dad. Hello PJ’s dad (from your son.) He certainly seems a nice chap. Though, having never met him before, he may have just been a dupe organised by the real PJ’s son as he lay in a drunken student stupor somewhere. Pictures taken that night may prove evidential later.

Our numbers were later bolstered by 2, as John, an ex-barman from one of Mr Dean’s drinking haunts joined us with one of his mates. His mate was sporting a Falcons shirt but that didn’t spoil the pleasure of meeting him.

As is usual, the banter between rival supporters at KP was a joy, the locals being their normal, friendly self. Unfortunately, I didn’t get the chance to reacquaint with Paddy’s Lass and, as I hadn’t had the forethought to bring any lubrication, I wasn’t able to place my Bodhran where it was suggested so all 3 instruments have been returned home safe and well.

The game itself will be reported on by Mr Dean. I would like to say though that I have never seen such a destruction of the opposition lineout. Several versions of Mr Dean’s report were narrated to me that night and on the journey back and I am sure you will enjoy the one he finally chooses to write.

Post match was quite quiet. The 3 lads with us were introduced to the players as the team made their way onto the coach. The team weren’t even waiting for a post match meal but had been given a “packed supper” for the trip back. They did look happy though and didn’t seem to be sporting too many injuries. Apparently Catty was replaced after a calf strain and Coetze was sporting a rather nice shiner. Sarah had asked me to give Mr Horak a sloppy one but Michael kindly refused the offer.

We looked into “the Hideaway” but it looked a bit too “young” so we decided to avail ourselves of the upstairs bar. This turned out to be abnormally quiet, resulting in having no problem getting a seat, where we remained until we were politely asked to leave after last orders. After walking back to “the Farms”, we found it closed, so taxis were orders to get us back to the various destinations.

After an early rise, we decided not to take up the offer of a £7.50 breakfast at the hotel. This turned out to be a good idea as we decided to stop off in Durham where we had one of the best breakfasts I’ve had in a long time, and all for under £5.

A name check here for the St. John’s ambulance who were being re-somethinged at Durham Cathedral today. A personal thanks to them for all the work they do at sporting events throughout the country.

It was in Durham market that I finally found somewhere to buy Spanish Gold (sugar coated coconut strands). From discussions in the past, I seem to remember Andrea and “Dave” extolling its virtues. I will try to save some for the next game. I can’t promise to be successful there though.

Crossing out of South Yorkshire, the weather improved and our next stop was in Nottingham which we visited after Mr Dean had waxed lyrical about “the Road to Jerusalem” a pub built into the bedrock of Nottingham castle. When we eventually recovered from Mr Dean’s navigational memory problems, we did indeed enjoy a tipple in its cave-like ambience.

A couple of hours later Mr Dean was safely deposited near his home. I cannot say whether he actually made it to his house as there was probably more then 1 T-junction to navigate.

Well, there you have it. If you’ve actually managed to get this far, I’m sure you are glad that I haven’t written the actual match report. I’m off now to sample the “gold” while watching the Ryder Cup.