Believe It May Be Bath In Some Cup at Home!
Well now, there is a fierce rumour of another match in Reading, involving the might of London Irish! What fecking competition it is for is far beyond that known by even the Chairperson of the Thame Young Conservative Mensa society, based in Abingdon.Guinness Premiership, EDF Lack-of-Energy Cup, Heineken Cup, Autumn Internationals and the Six Nations have provided a rhythm to the fixture list obtained only by a square wheeled train, running on tracks made of stilton cheese.
The fat controller has shown more imagination than that created at a fecking Sci-fi writers’ convention held after a lunch of blue smarties, Viagra and washed down with a magic mushroom smoothie.
It has also messed with the sensitive palettes bestowed on this nation’s fine Rugby folk, as the official sponsors match day beverage prevents the body building alcohol immunity, due to the changes delivered in both temperature and content.
No freakin' wonder the Rugby Leo Sayer gets shorter, as the scream of ones bed beckons yet another emotional and naked supporter to submit towards their comfortable and a-sexual charms, all before lasties!
Routine drinking while wearing the same colours, attending a match in a weekly tournament is what made this sport great. Dodgy lager while needing the match day programme to ascertain what is at friggin' stake is leading to premature hair loss, as well as an increase in middle-aged suicide. Freakin' RFU!
The alleged visitors to Berkshire’s second town come in the form of those fine West Country fellas, and lovers of the one syllable chant, Bath.
The wannabe Swindon side, fresh from their 21 – 15 away win over the Charities Commission, will be straining more than a roughage deprived Guinness swiller to get at the Exiles.
The Rugby mad Spa city, located near to the more picturesque suburb of Southmead in Bristol, are beginning to the feel the pinch as far a freakin' shiny things go. There is a definite generation gap, as young Bathite’s scream ‘Bollox old man, you lie about championships and Euro Crowns’ while nursing a Cornish Knocker from a corner of the Hare and Hounds in Corsham.
And while these young pups scrap a few more thousand to drum up a deposit for a £600,000 studio flat in the city, their unknown fecking axe murdering mortgage buddy ponders on better times.
Statements such as ‘I can’t believe Guscott does this for free’ and ‘Do you reckon that John Player Cup will actually fit in the trophy cabinet’ roll through the grey haired Jazz musician’s mind, like a tear on an innocent child’s cheek. Claptons words ‘Would you know my name if I saw you in heaven’ punctuate his thoughts as his aging mind drifts to happier times. This was the song played as his wife’s Casket drifted peacefully towards the flames.
Still, the monies saved from not having to stump up for the annual Twickenham visit has enabled Bob, cos that is his name, to maintain a fecking excellent drinking habit. His 1984 player issue winners jersey charts the path from cider to hard liquor and the pride of his treasure is for all to see.
Now lads, that was a few years ago, and Bob is back on track. A few near misses on the trophy side have renewed his hope and enthusiasm for Bath Rugby and their history since 1865.
Bath will start the game with a belief borne from grabbing a bonus point victory from the last premiership appearance. The return of the influencial skipper in the battle scarred form of Steve Borthwick seems to have inspired a side to deliver to the horn blowing rugby fanatics at the Wreck.
This continued a five game sequence of W-L-W-L-W, including a mighty friggin' mullering of the Pests, but a real fecking downer by the old Brizzle enemy. The Exiles would very much like to continue this win-loss sequence, but they will have to improve beyond belief on the Sorries showing to do so.
Steve Meehan, the now full time coach of this famous club, may be very tempted to give it a big boner salute in the direction of HQ come selection time. Lee Mears and Danny Grewcock have been selected in Brain Ashton’s 22 for the historical visit to Croke Park. The former Bath great will be hoping for all clubs to align their selections to rest his lads before the visit to Ireland.
If these two do get a duvet day come Saturday, the selection panel will still have a shed load of talent to choose from. Pieter Dixon and Rob Fidler will probably believe they are more than worthy of giving it a friggin' huge lash, the like not seen since 1963 Great Lash festive in Biggleswade.
The return to action of X-Factors very own Matt Stevens has provided the vocal range to pierce any defence, and this true gent is welcomed back to the breasts of all rugby fans. David Barnes will also compliment the front row, raw fat fecker power if his body can rise from the battering issued over the past month or so.
Andy Beattie, James Scaysbrook, Isaac Feaunati, Michael Lipman and Gareth Delve. Hmmm, selection headaches in the friggin' back row then!
The pack is again the place that a win will be formed, and with Irish having returning chunks of burning love, this will be a battle up there with Bannockburn ... well without skirts and burning English flesh anyway.
The Bath selectors are also starting to have a bendy flexible type thought pattern when penning the names for 9 – 15. Olly Barkley is approaching the form that gained him national acclaim and will slot in like a token in a slottie at either 10, or more likely, 12.
Want away Molly Malone, with his love for cockles and muscles (but not in a homo way) may not be heading Sunbury way having chosen the HairyQuims, but has a boot to die for. Michael Stephenson away from his fecking dodgy 15 shirt and on the wing is dangerous, along with the ever improving Nick Abendanon.
Add Joe Maddock, Shaun Berne and the Eliota Fuimaono-Sapolu into the mix, and of cause not forgetting the Chav and the ask of LI is as big as John Lennon.
This is a mighty game for both sides as the ambitions are moulded for the rest of the season. The loser will have to contemplate the ‘R’ word, while the winner can fix the top six into the view finder. Brian Smith will hope that it is Ba’R’th that have the former come five o’clock Saturday night.
For this to be the net gain, then London Irish need a return to the fine form shown at the Madstad in the recent past. The away days have been a shocker, unlike previous seasons, but a sniff worthy of a knicker or two at a fortress has been there for all to see. Continue this fecking run of homers against a Bath side who seem prone to staying on the bus, and an up surge will be green.
--Master Scribe