Get wet! Go wild!
by Benji Kunde
A slippery situation ensued.
Not the first, after having just come off a long pre-season full of scallywagging. On this occasion the Cru faced their inner most fears…themselves! Well, at least for the first of…3 thirds?
It was all a little confusing.
For crying out loud, we had our own Evan (hitch those pants up nice and high) Hitchman
refereeing! There were Quills and George Washington RFC
players thrown into the mix also. Speaking of which, a quick thank you to all those fellas for coming down to involve themselves in the madness of it all.
Let’s see, we warmed up in lovely cool weather, to take the field just as the sky opened up and chundered all it had been saving up upon us. Not an eye was bat (can’t say the same for other body parts) as we embraced our war with the weather, and each other.
We broke up into two crews of Cru plus some Quills too (try saying that 10 times over.) Paul (put in too early) Ralph
, was the first casualty of these circumstances pulling his thigh before even getting on the pitch. Next, Benji (snap-crackle and pop) Kunde
was the second to go, as he succumbed to the ferocity of the inferiority complex driven ‘B’ team defence.
The first points came about from what looked to be a perfectly rehearsed line-out move executed by the Cru ‘A’ team forwards. Andy (happy as a pig-in-mud) Howard
received the battered-down ball and scampered down the touch line to barrel over for the try taking a couple of the ‘B’ team players with him.
Eventually, the George (Where the hell are ya) Washington players rocked up.
It seemed the Americans had lost their way somewhat and found themselves wandering around in foreign territory. Anywho, with their arrival, the second of the three thirds began. More bone crunching defence and rampant runs were seen.
One of the more memorable runs saw Roy (boys quit your jibba-jabba and play rugby) Yorkie
, wind his way through the defence and go in for a try.
The final third was more like a mud-wrestling free for all, which the George Washington players had obviously seen their fair share of, as they came back at the cru with new-found gusto. Their persistence paid off with a well worked team try on the back of a flurry of nicely-timed passes. At the final whistle it looked as though no one had anything left in the tank, and the weather the winner.
With the closing of the match we made our way to the nearest bus stop to head to the night’s watering hole. We surprised the bus-riding public with our shirtless public transport policy. Try as we may, we didn’t manage to convince any of the lovely elderly women to join us in this pursuit.
Once at the izakaya – it was beer more beer and more beer…oh, and wait, Paul Skurr’s
vomit inspiring vodka tonic. More impressive, was the staff’s service pace. Beers were being served up like innuendos in a Tooley speech. And as usual there was a lot of talk of off-field victories and near-misses.
The more dedicated persevered to a standing bar around the corner, or perhaps that’s just a euphemism for something else. You’ll never know unless you join us on our next eventful outing.