Saturday 7 June 2008
Sponsorship
I've been writing off to a number of companies trying to blag some sponsorship. Watch this space...
Friday 6 June 2008
Pirates at Bournemouth
We had a great weekend at Bournemouth, and didn't disgrace outrselves too badly. A scratch team of Paddy, Trott, Smythy and myself (Topps) set off from Cheltenham early friday afternoon, and headed down to Taunton. We met Miles and Matty Bramhall (Bramwell) at services then went and had Spag Bol courtesy of mrs Dean.
Fed and watered we left for Bournemouth, and having been led around the houses by Pats Tom Tom we arrived, only to drive straight past the entrance to the site.
When we got into the car park we pulled in at the same time as Raver, met Cattell/Kettle/Mole, and headed on in, packing vodka into tent bags and stellas into sleeping bags. Once safely inside we set about smuggling booze over the fence, until Miles, who is of course known for his subtelty, got caught. We then gave up, and went and got wankered in the bar.
Woke up early Saturday morning for registration, and were reinforced my the arrival of Stanyard, Brickhead and Dan Moore, before also meeting James Mclauchlan. Or as Paddy thought it was spelt, Mclocglin. We went through the registration tent, I cunningly ticked the camping box for all 12 players, and the four late arrivals saved themselves eighty quid, jammy bastards.
We weren't playing 'til three, so we went to Tesco, and got yet more Stella and 'Bow in. We left that in the car, and went and warmed up at about two. Then the first game was upon us.
We played Bryanston Old Boys, who were probably the worst team we played all weekend, and lost 24-7, Trott crossing for our only score. We were unorganised, didn't really know what we were doing, and that was why we lost.
Our Second game was against Wimborne, and we didn't do too badly, lost 19-14, and if memory serves we were denied a late try by a dodgy refereeing decision.
Our final game, having secured a spot in the plate, was against Exeter Uni who had beaten both the other teams. The lethargic paramedics were called on in this game, as first one of the Exeter boys went down with a bad looking injury, before Trott followed, catching his studs whilst stepping through a hole, and straining his medial ligaments, as Dr Raver later diagnosed. We lost this game 17-14 and were denied a late try that would have won it, on a shit call of crossing from the ref. It was only a simple switch! This is without even mentioning that one of their tries was thanks to the most lenient refereeing of the breakdown I ever saw. Plus one of their team had no shins, which is surely against the rules.
Myself, Mclauchlan, Bramwell, Trott, and Stanyard all finished up with a try apiece on saturday.
Anyhow, that all done with, we got pissed up, put more booze over the fence, and sat around in the car park drinking beers, with Miles Dance music playing, like real rednecks. We then got pissed in the arena, don't remember much but brickhead got laid.
Sunday morning we all felt shit, and lay about doing nothing, as again we weren't playing until 3. Thank god.
Come three Cattell had fucked off, partly because of a faked neck injury, and partly 'cause his inconsiderate mates had been knocked out already. Miles was also claiming to be injured, and refused to play. Pussy. This left us minus, three, as Trott wandering round pissed on his knee all night meant he couldn't walk, and made him look like a victim of elephantitis.
At three we had St Ives, who had also lost all three group games, and who had scuba playing for them. We won 24-7, with tries from Mclauchlan, Matty and myself with two. Good performance from us, and we deserved the win.
Next up was the Plate Semi against Swanage and Wareham who turned out to be right 'orrible c**ts. I got smacked in the mouth, and generally lost my temper and played shit as we went down 12-7 (I think). I scored the try, finishing with 4, Matty and Mclauchlan both had 2, as I remember, and a few others had one apiece.
The rugby out of the way, it was time for the important bit. Raver left for Canada, Stanyard, Brickhead, Dan and Trott headed back to Welly, and Me, Paddy, Smythy, Miles and Matty were all that were left.
We went and met the old boys, Mullock, Eaton, The Mead and Big Gay Bear for a few vodka-lager funnels and a mini circle. We then went to the arena, decided it was shit, and went into Bournemouth. We had a good time in walkabout with the Crookham boys, left at closing, and came across Stash Allstars. Miles, Smyth, Paddy and Matty had a conversation with them, and ended up not getting let into the camel club with them (Miles was in tears), but by this point I'd got a kebab and a taxi back with the old boys and Scuba.
Monday morning we drove home, stopped for breakfast at little chef, spent an hour and a half in there! Shit Service! and then carried on driving home. The only fun incident was when Miles fell asleep whilst driving, and I had to grab the wheel to stop us crashing into oncoming traffic. Good Times! Haha lol.
And that was that!
Fed and watered we left for Bournemouth, and having been led around the houses by Pats Tom Tom we arrived, only to drive straight past the entrance to the site.
When we got into the car park we pulled in at the same time as Raver, met Cattell/Kettle/Mole, and headed on in, packing vodka into tent bags and stellas into sleeping bags. Once safely inside we set about smuggling booze over the fence, until Miles, who is of course known for his subtelty, got caught. We then gave up, and went and got wankered in the bar.
Woke up early Saturday morning for registration, and were reinforced my the arrival of Stanyard, Brickhead and Dan Moore, before also meeting James Mclauchlan. Or as Paddy thought it was spelt, Mclocglin. We went through the registration tent, I cunningly ticked the camping box for all 12 players, and the four late arrivals saved themselves eighty quid, jammy bastards.
We weren't playing 'til three, so we went to Tesco, and got yet more Stella and 'Bow in. We left that in the car, and went and warmed up at about two. Then the first game was upon us.
We played Bryanston Old Boys, who were probably the worst team we played all weekend, and lost 24-7, Trott crossing for our only score. We were unorganised, didn't really know what we were doing, and that was why we lost.
Our Second game was against Wimborne, and we didn't do too badly, lost 19-14, and if memory serves we were denied a late try by a dodgy refereeing decision.
Our final game, having secured a spot in the plate, was against Exeter Uni who had beaten both the other teams. The lethargic paramedics were called on in this game, as first one of the Exeter boys went down with a bad looking injury, before Trott followed, catching his studs whilst stepping through a hole, and straining his medial ligaments, as Dr Raver later diagnosed. We lost this game 17-14 and were denied a late try that would have won it, on a shit call of crossing from the ref. It was only a simple switch! This is without even mentioning that one of their tries was thanks to the most lenient refereeing of the breakdown I ever saw. Plus one of their team had no shins, which is surely against the rules.
Myself, Mclauchlan, Bramwell, Trott, and Stanyard all finished up with a try apiece on saturday.
Anyhow, that all done with, we got pissed up, put more booze over the fence, and sat around in the car park drinking beers, with Miles Dance music playing, like real rednecks. We then got pissed in the arena, don't remember much but brickhead got laid.
Sunday morning we all felt shit, and lay about doing nothing, as again we weren't playing until 3. Thank god.
Come three Cattell had fucked off, partly because of a faked neck injury, and partly 'cause his inconsiderate mates had been knocked out already. Miles was also claiming to be injured, and refused to play. Pussy. This left us minus, three, as Trott wandering round pissed on his knee all night meant he couldn't walk, and made him look like a victim of elephantitis.
At three we had St Ives, who had also lost all three group games, and who had scuba playing for them. We won 24-7, with tries from Mclauchlan, Matty and myself with two. Good performance from us, and we deserved the win.
Next up was the Plate Semi against Swanage and Wareham who turned out to be right 'orrible c**ts. I got smacked in the mouth, and generally lost my temper and played shit as we went down 12-7 (I think). I scored the try, finishing with 4, Matty and Mclauchlan both had 2, as I remember, and a few others had one apiece.
The rugby out of the way, it was time for the important bit. Raver left for Canada, Stanyard, Brickhead, Dan and Trott headed back to Welly, and Me, Paddy, Smythy, Miles and Matty were all that were left.
We went and met the old boys, Mullock, Eaton, The Mead and Big Gay Bear for a few vodka-lager funnels and a mini circle. We then went to the arena, decided it was shit, and went into Bournemouth. We had a good time in walkabout with the Crookham boys, left at closing, and came across Stash Allstars. Miles, Smyth, Paddy and Matty had a conversation with them, and ended up not getting let into the camel club with them (Miles was in tears), but by this point I'd got a kebab and a taxi back with the old boys and Scuba.
Monday morning we drove home, stopped for breakfast at little chef, spent an hour and a half in there! Shit Service! and then carried on driving home. The only fun incident was when Miles fell asleep whilst driving, and I had to grab the wheel to stop us crashing into oncoming traffic. Good Times! Haha lol.
And that was that!
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