Barnes Delivers a Bouncing Bomb
This was billed as a game that will offer flair, imagination and attacking rugby. Well, the overall piece was a fecking long shot shy of this, with a visit to a slaughterhouse on the Malvern’s offering more in the way of enjoyment.Real bad news was happening behind the scenes as the skipper’s back seized preventing the Catt from taking part. Also Paddy Tagicakibau was pulled due to injury, meaning that sixty-seven first team squad members are on the crock list.
Geraghty and Bishop were brought into the starting line-up to cover these two unfortunates, and both competed with fecking great aplomb, the former scoring what was to be the winning try.
The cold wind that blew to every corner in no particular direction was going to be a hindrance to both sides as it swirled around the Sixways field. It was fecking freezing for their fans as well!
The first twenty-odd minutes was of a cracking pace and style, especially for the visitors, as they tried to establish a grip on both the match and the scoreboard. Apart from the excellently worked try by Roche, London Irish failed to deliver on two fecking ‘open goals’ as they stretched the Worcester defence left and right. The failure to claim these scores could have cost them the match and much needed points.
The Warriors finally got a grip to their contribution after being under the hammer for the first quarter. A superb try from Delport after great work by the home side’s forwards was their delivery. The fat feckers battered through multi phase rugby, which ensured that an overlap the size of which could have been seen from space was created. Drahm added the extras that Flutey had again failed to do.
So, it was indeed going to be a game to remember and both sides wanted it fecking bad, as the tackles started to hit home.
That was until Wayne Barnes settled down and got more involved in the match. This fella, apparently a seventeen year old art student from Morpeth, has been fast tracked by RFU and should be delivered to the IRB in time for the World Cup. He has an ability that few refs of this level have - or would ever fecking own up too - in that he really cannot establish control. This control is needed at the breakdown and set piece where the fat feckers are competing hard for the pill.
When it kicked off in the second half, exiles minds must have been cast back to the Sorries game at Christmas. Every game that Barnes gets to blow at - and by feck he blows - there always seems to be handbags thrown at some stage. Does he frustrate the players to the extent that something finally goes off in their minds? Umm, that just may be it.
Technically, this man is good with his knowledge of the laws up there with even a fecking high court judge; it is his lack of control and nervous demeanour that will ensure his failure to make a great ref. Still, for Wuss to lay blame solely at his feet for their defeat would be like blaming Yoko for breaking up the Beatles!
The game descended into a fecking battlefield, the likes of which haven’t been seen since the Bulge, with casualties taken. Van Niekerk was the most worrying as he left the paddock on a stretcher after half an hour of play. The cause has been laid at the feet, literally, of the Irish as an alleged stray foot made contact with the unfortunate hooker. If this is in fact the case, then let the inciting commission meet and decide the facts and act accordingly.
Tuamoepeau left around the same time, an injury that ultimately put paid to the scrums as uncontested became the rule when Wuss failed to provide any further front row fat boys. This was so for the last twenty-odd minutes of play, a rule that seemed to favour the home side as the exiles had started to control this phase of play. The whole thing needs reviewed, as uncontested scrums are pure shoite; these are not scrums but mere cuddles offered by friggin’ big men, but certainly not in a homo way!
The second half never really got going, and only coughed up three points, which came courtesy of Drahm’s boot. After the friggin’ riot, which resulted in Flutey spending ten minutes in the bin and Delport for the rest of the match for his second yellow, Wuss battered the visitors to within an inch of their life. The Irish defence held firm, with only a failed Drahm penalty challenging the victory.
This game was not the advert of the premiership to push forward. Slow hand claps and booing of players so obviously injured, is not what this great game is all about. The game as a spectacle was a non-runner on Grand National day, but LI showed the character to get down and dirty to scrap for this win.
Three to play and everything to play for. Top four is still in the hands of Brain Smith and his chargers, but things get even tougher now.
London Irish: Armitage, Ojo, Franze, Geraghty, Bishop, Flutey, Hodgson, Hatley, Russell, Skuse, Casey, Roche, Danaher, Magne, Murphy, Leguizamon.
Replacements: Edwards for Hodgson (69), Dawson for Hatley (54), Paice for Russell (49), Rautenbach for Skuse (41), Leguizamon for Murphy (41), Strudwick for Leguizamon (61).
Not Used: Penney.
-- Master Scribe