Perfect conditions and scoreline

The weather was perfect for OB’s game; bright sun, dry clear air and cool enough for some hard graft. The warm-up consisted of the customary ‘dropping the ball in a circle’ and touch (opposed and unopposed with line-outs) as the numbers of meaty fellows in blue and burgundy grew ominously on the lower pitch. Pre-match faff was made worse by some late withdrawals through injury and family commitments which depleted our squad of 18 to 16.

“You can’t warm up there, it’s the first XV pitch” said someone from Kingswood. ‘Sorry’ we all said as we trooped off obligingly to another, less well-kept pitch. “The mind games have begun” said one sage cove.

“We’re not using that pitch, can you use the same one as us” was the next suggestion from Kingswood. ‘Sorry’ we all said and minced furiously down to the swampy end of their worst pitch. “Told you” said the sage one.

What would Martin Johnson have done? He would have told them he was playing on whichever pitch he wanted and they would have to form an orderly queue to be punched, like when Mary McAleese had to walk on the mud in Dublin in 2003 before the anthems. That’s what.

Anyway, if there was a psy-ops type thing going on Kingswood won it convincingly, unlike the toss which captain Grzonka won, wisely electing to play with the bright sun to our backs, down the slope in the first half.

There were a lot of scrums and the front five of Stanni, Ben Hawkins, Mike Cataldo, with Ben Watts and Bart Casagrande in the boiler house made good early progress, hooker Hawkins even managing to poach a couple against the head.

Casagrande (monikered Bighouse throughout the match by the linguists) even managed to pop a rib or two scoring our first try of the afternoon on the left wing.

Kingswood were very aggressive in their short driving and enthusiastic tackling but seemed to exhaust themselves. They did not play with much width or any tactical kicking game, which was to our advantage.

OB’s dominated the line-outs, Hullis stealing at least one of theirs. Our quick ball off the top caused Kingswood a lot of problems. The middle was a lottery for both teams.

It was a game of starkly different approaches: Kingswood had a lot of ball and invariably took route one or fed a crash ball to a centre, while OB’s picked and went in the forwards and spun the ball wide and varied their moves in the backs. The scything runs of Sam Richardson, Chris Kay and Garth mixed our game up nicely. I don’t know how the backs didn’t score more in the first half because they seemed to break the first line of defence every time we got the ball.

Watts and Hullis managed to slow down Kingswood’s ball at the breakdowns and even to poach a couple.

Special mention should also be made of Peaches and Alex Millard, both usually back rowers but today masquerading as wingers and doing their crucial defensive jobs well. Pete King did some very tidy work at scrum half and never seemed too rushed, notwithstanding the attentions of the Kingswood back row.

Some comic relief was supplied by their huge centre, sub’d on during the first half, who introduced himself with a charge through some despairing tackles towards Stanni who thought he was hiding safely out of harm’s way. Just as everyone hoped to see OB’s dashing Loose Head atomized as the monster smeared him all over the 5 meters to the try line, he inexplicably chipped the ball which deflected off Stanni into touch, narrowly missing an exceptionally ugly bulldog. Said dog was probably the only gathered local not to play at some point of the game. “Mind the dog” chuckled the crowd, generously ignoring the squandered try.

Half time came quickly after Chipgate.

Unfortunately Bighouse’s ribs had had enough by then and off he went. The pack reshuffled, moving Chunk to tight head and Cataldo to the back row where he joined Ferg Currie and Kirk. Ed Fraser made a welcome move from the back row to the boiler house and provided some useful heft in the second half scrums.

The second half also heralded a wholesale replacement of Kingswood’s front 5 and a reinvigorated driving game which stretched our excellent defence for the first few minutes. Again Kingswood seemed to blow themselves out with an unnecessarily limited game plan. They were hit with some thunderous tackles – I saw Hawkins launch their large no 8 and there were others who did much the same, names unnoted. Apologies and thanks in equal measure. The nil scoreline against respectable opposition is every bit as impressive as the 34 points scored.

The back row and hooker Hawkins then let rip with some excellent close support play as Kingswood tired. Cataldo, Hawkins and, I think King and Kay all went over. I am sure I have missed out someone or wrongly credited a try or two.

Kingswood suffered a nasty head injury which took several minutes to treat and for the wounded player to leave the pitch. The knock was a bad one – leg writing, blood etc. and it was to everyone’s relief that when he did walk off, it was on his own feet and unassisted. Well done to Peaches who administered the first aid (he should know what he’s doing, having had so much experience as the patient).

If Kingswood hoped the delay might have shifted OB’s focus, they were to be disappointed as the attacking tempo increased, with no let-up until the final whistle. Chunk, Currie and Fraser all showed up well in the closing minutes.

This was a pleasingly complete performance and augurs well for the rest of the season when more Vets regulars are available. The team spirit was very strong, which is quite an achievement given that it was our second game of the season and there are several new faces in the side.

TUNNEL: very good.

Well done Gav and Killer for supporting. It’s always nice to see a couple of friendly faces at an away game.

The apres-match was enjoyable and Kingswood were great hosts, as usual. There was some alarming chat on WhatsApp about something called the Cougar Triangle which might, or might not, have been visited by some miscreants with energy to spare after their rugby exertions and which may, or may not form the subject of a future report of a less wholesome sort.