Irish have wrecked Castle Grim; time to leave a wreath at the Memorial?
Well, feck me lads, who’d have thought way back in September that London Irish would be on the verge of an unbelievable grand slam of the West Country kissing cousins?Way back then, the Irish lads tried their best to give the game away after an awesome first half had allowed Hodgson to give his previous club the fecking run-around by scoring two tries, one of the highest order and one more controversial than Bishop Casey at the Rose of Tralee, inserting a Euro into the condom machine while touching the arse of the Dublin entry.
The roads to the West have thus far presented the exiles with two huge wins over Barf and Glaws resulting in fierce delivery of a double-double. Now history awaits them Allsorts feckers from nowhere near London, the prize being a six win smash and grab around the City of Bristol and her suburbs of Bath and Gloucester.
The chances are as slim as a bulimic who enjoys Ephedrine on his celery, if we underestimate Bristol. Clad in their blue and white, sporting the ‘Age of Consent’ logo, those Brizzle lads will not give a shit about making under 21s bleed.
At the Memorial Stadium, renamed after their relegation season a few years ago, they have a belief and desire that is seldom matched anywhere in any league. Their supporters hate two things; Barf and losing, both of which were avoided on the opening day derby game when Lee Robinson parted the enemies defence like a knife through posh crap to dot down and announce the former Shoguns back to the big time.
High fliers Sale Sharks and Leicester Cheater-feckers have travelled and been soundly dispatched to the grim Northern/Middle-bit wasteland, having received a beating.
In all, four of Bristol Rugby’s six winning games have been at home and the Pests just about scraped a draw in their recent clash at the home of the suspension bridge that seems to be mildly famous.
The Bristol side have not been the most prolific feckers at posting five point scores on the board over this season. Only Sir Squeakmeister of Whingedom’s Falcon’s are their only peers with the lowest league ‘For’ column of 20 thus far this season. This, however, detracts from their collective defensive metal that has been thrown at all comers.
On a mere twenty-four occasions, the opposition have had the fecking balls to blight their whitewash with a try, a miserly sum only bettered by the Cheetahs, Pests and near neighbours Glaws. Without a try bonus, but five losing BPs shows that this team are a tough nut to crack and always ask questions of all sides that will keep even Jeffrey Archer honest.
Richard Hill has been the skipper of the ship on the choppy waters of premiership rugby, and he has done so with a smile firmly etched on his massive cranium. His attitude has been reigned in by his chargers who will love the challenge presented to them.
This is definitely surmised by the leader and all round good egg, Matt Slater. He is a colossus in and around the breakdown, securing ball and driving forward with the guile of a porn star on Viagra and not in a homo way at all. This driven fury has been infectious to his brethren as the goal of survival in the top flight is within touching distance.
The other two thirds in the back row mental ward have been in the shape of Bristol born Craig Short, exiled to Rotherham while his beloved rebuilt in ND1 and Dan Ward-Smith. Hill has also signed the fecking rock of a Samoan, Ulia Ulia (so good they named him twice), who may make the bench for Irish’s visit on Sunday. This will again be key to the winning XV, as any upper hand gained in securing/turning ball over will ultimately grab the points.
The exiles second row combo of Kennedy and Casey will again have to step up and prove themselves against the very competitive locks of Brizzle. Gareth Llewellyn, the most capped Welsh fecker with 693 caps at the tender age of 65 has been a revelation this season, enjoying the arena to get stuck in. He has been joined by fellow welsh boy Nathan Budgett of late, the baldy fecker having covered for the injuries of returning duo: Puma Mariano Sambucetti and former Queen Roy Winters.
The fat feckers will also be itching to be unleashed on their peers in the front row faculty, and this battle is going to be mighty.
At loose head, the West Country’s premier side (in these eyes anyway) have the experience and determination of Dave ‘MacWurzel’ Hilton. The Bristol born Jock gained 40 odd caps for the sweatys, having qualified as his Grandaddy had taken a shit in the Clyde on 26th May 1933, also known to the residents of Govan as ‘May Hilton Shit-gate’.
On the other corner at Tight Head, with his boyish good looks, is Darren Compton. This hunka-chunk of West Country prime has been giving it his all to keep the scrum up and going forward, but is the baby of the fat lads at a sprightly 34.
In the middle of these two friggin’ monsters is the irrepressible Mark Regan, probably the best English hooker around at the moment and another natural leader around the paddock. Another Brizzle born member regularly hits his straps and feels the burn, resulting in all around having to fecking look out. He has been around the block and brings with his pitch time recent experience in how to escape the drop.
This is going to be a horrible place to be come one o’clock on Sunday, as these big packs hit for the first scrum. He who handles the impact and battle will be the victor.
In Shaun Perry, the nugget at scrum half, the home side have unearthed a raw talent in the Hilly mould. The former Coventry player has had a rare time this season and has thrown his card into the hat as far as England selection is concerned. His fecking bullet of a pass is not the one trick in his arsenal as he has the ability to find space and often the try line with pace and balls. His battle with Dodge will be the real deal and one worth looking out for.
Inside the feisty fecker will probably be the steady point’s gatherer, Jason Strange. He has been splitting the uprights all season long and should get the nod over Tommy Hayes, who had the starting 10 for the visit of the Pests. Hayes, the former Wuss, can be inconsistent as he can have three great games and two nightmares in the space of 40 minutes.
In the girls, there has been a real nightmare for the medical staff to get their healing hands on. The Chiropractor has now been passed to play from a head doctor, while former Pest Mark Denny has been getting his strings re-strung in an attempt to get back to centre ways. Manu Contepomi and Jake Rauluni will continue to battle their long term injuries which have given the selection lads a real headache.
This has resulted in young lads in Rob Higgitt and Sam Cox giving it a lash in the centres.
In the back three, the improving Lee Robinson, kiwi Vaughan Going and the David Lemi have been getting about to add speed, brawn on one wing and a fecking slippery character on the other to provide the width needed. At times, they have not been getting the pill to stretch defences, but given half a chance, can punish the non-believers of Brizzle endeavour.
Bristol will have targeted this and all remaining home games as a means to secure the points required to be able to stay put in the AG premiership. They know their strengths and will play to them, but the game plan will be painted on a canvas using the finest of oils under the strokes guided by the shrewd Hill. Try and out-battle his side, and all could be lost.
Brian Smith will not be taking this as a given, and will be fecking beasting the lads to get the extra yard required to win at the Memorial Stadium. It will take guts and fight, like most of the away fixtures in the premiership, but 10% greater.
This is a great fixture to attend, for both the banter and atmosphere of the home support. My last visit was a 33 all draw, and a day of pure revelry that followed. If that was after a draw, God help the lads following the team in Green if the historical slam can be taken. If achieved, this will be harder than the Wreck and Castle Grim against a proud and passionate band of brothers, and a side fighting for a deserved retention of status. Irish are chomping at the bit to obtain a triple double.
-- Master Scribe