West Country Slammed
What would have been the odds at the start of this season on slamming the West Country lads? Six games and six wins have gifted the exiles a triple-double during a season that the fecking pundits predicted a fall through the trap door in to the National Leagues.In truth, this final summary of dominance of the M4-M5 fellas was a game that could have drifted to the side of ‘R’ word fighters, Bristol Rugby. But for some determined defence and a lot of dark artistry in the loose in the final 10 minutes of play, London Irish secured the win that propelled them to fecking third in the premiership.
On a cold and breezy day at the Memorial Stadium, the home side were the quickest to start and get stuck in to the Irish. Helped by a strong wind, the Brizzle side came out of the blocks and chased the cause like bloodhounds with a fox scent in their nostrils. They ripped into the visitors, spurred on by over 7,000 partisan fans, giving it a real fecking lash in an attempt to secure the 4 points that would go a long way in securing top flight status.
This raw passion resulted in the steady Strange grabbing two penalties giving the game a 6-0 early recording on the scoreboard. For all their possession, the ability to get the pill wide and break the determined exiles defence was not happening, forcing a forward dominated game plan from them.
Irish for their part, were now starting to warm up and getting width to the game from an attacking point of view. This was met with some fecking huge tackles from the home side, forcing a tactical retreat not seen since Dunkirk and kept the score in blue and white favour.
This changed when, after what seemed like two days of Troy-like sedge on the Bristol try line, Paice squeezed his God like frame through a hole the size of gnats ring to claim the five pointer. Flutes claimed the extras to push LI into a minimum lead.
Paice then turned sinner and became the victim of a binning after repeated offences at the breakdown from the exiles. He came crashing on from a position that will still be offside during the next game to spoil a very promising attack, giving Rose no choice in issuing the yellow.
With penalty awarded and the away forwards down to seven, the wired Salter told his 10 to hit touch. This decision proved to be sound as the skipper himself grabbed the throw from Regan, before probably the best English hooker in the premiership grabbed and spotted the ball down for a try. Strange added the conversions from out wide to take the score to 13-7, a score line that was retained until the halftime whistle blew.
The wind had played a huge part in the first period with Brizzle having the benefit of it. Regan, the wise fecker, was hitting 2 and 3 in the line out, while Paice struggled with the longer throws. Most of these being as straight as Boy George, putting pressure on the Irish defence from set piece that is normally a well drilled unit.
The ten minute interval allowed Brian Smith to galvanise his chargers to get back on track. The breeze felt like a 12 point fecker, so panic was not an option. Catt seemed to ooze confidence from the off and led by example. He must have put in eighteen plus tackles throughout the game, helping to drive the home side on to the back foot.
The battle of the 9s was proving to be a fecking intriguing affair, with Perry using his bullet pass fresh from ignoring the call from England, and Hodgson proving a friggin’ elusive fecker around the paddock. Perry may have shaded this battle, but with Flutey, Tiesi and Catt being more affective with ball in hand, Dodge eventually won the war.
His quality inside pass released the impressive Flutey for the second try, with the magic 10 twisting and turning like a fecking big twisty-turny thing to claim the fiver. He also stroked over the easy extras to allow Irish to regain the lead, be it on the minimum clauses.
This try was claimed after a huge amount of territory and pressure being applied on the Bristol massive, but still they seemed immoveable. Credit to the fat boys in blue, as they battered their opposite peers to within an inch of submission. Their front row, average age being fecking 49, were proving to be a real pain in the ring and starting to push Irish back.
This was surmised brilliantly when Irish kicked for 5 from a penalty to try and put the game to bed. Through sheer brutality and hard work, the old feckers turned the tide and prevented more scores while claiming a penalty to clear. Rautenbach should have seen yellow after this awesome phase of passionate defence when he allowed Perry to make millimetres from the tap and go. Rose bottled it and marched the visitors back 10, deeming this to be just.
That all said, Bristol too could have lost a man to the bin with some unreal offences when Irish dominated the territory; maybe a bit of levelling by the ref.
For all their work on the field, the exiles were failing to make the impact on the scoreboard. Flutey and Strange exchanged missed 3 pointers before the game winning move took to flight.
From broken play, the exciting Irish girls saw the chance of a counter. Great hands and pace was injected into this move before the returning Danaher, on for Kennedy, released the fecking talented Tiesi in the tram lines. Tiesi easily beat the covering Going to dot near the posts and gave Flutey another easy two point kick.
Salter, at this score, used his charm and wit to verbally abuse the under fire Rose. It looked to all that the man was not best pleased at something, or he was confirming the arrangements for dinner.
An 8 point lead now established, and 81 minutes on the clock, the travelling fans thought the game was in the bag. However the all important countdown clock indicated that fecking 12 minutes still remained before the celebrations could start.
This started the Bristol assault on Irish to get the win, and feck me, they went for it. The now wound up Salter led his lads headlong into the fight. The introduction of fresh legs helped retain the go-forward as Lewis, Nelson and that fecking chiropractor Lima gave it a real lash to get back into the game.
After sustained onslaught of the thin white line, they got the just rewards when Lewis crashed over for the try. Strange converted to bring the score line back to a mere point in favour of London Irish.
The last couple of minutes were to be the home sides as the idea of a win started to sink into the minds of the side now with the momentum. Phase after phase, but no joy until Dodge kicked the ball into touch for the historical win.
Bristol, over the eighty minutes, showed the fight needed to get them safe. However, on numerous occasions, they allowed Irish to defend through the middle as the opportunity of getting the ball wide was refused. Perry and Strange are a cracking partnership, although Strange needs to vary his game more. There are dangerous feckers in the Brizzle girls, but they are not getting the quality to stretch the defences. The forwards are just animals who will fight for everything.
London Irish are now starting to show both character and excellent counter-attacking rugby, using the pace afforded by the back three when space is available. The Dodge/Flutes combo is firing and proving very creative allowing Catt time to get his passing going to release the other girls. Tiesi, in his first start, looks a great signing with his fecking love affair for contact as well as attacking nonce in this arsenal.
Another big game won, and more massive ones to come in the pursuit of a top 4 finish. St Patrick’s Day celebrations are now to be had, with Sale being the invitees to the party. With good will and a huge amount of grace from above, a win could secure HC rugby for next season.
Keep it goooooooooooooig Irish.
London Irish: Horak; Armitage, Pedro Tiesi, Catt, Tagicakibau; Flutey, Hodgson; Hatley, Paice, Rautenbach; Casey; Kennedy; Roche, Dawson, Leguizamon.
Replacements: Bishop for Armitage (80), Collins for Hatley (40), Danaher for Kennedy (53), Russell for Roche (32), Thorpe for Leguizamon (55).
Not Used: Penney, Flavin, Gustard, Willis.
Sin Bin: Paice (29).
Att: 7,258
Referee: D Rose (RFU).
-- Master Scribe