While everyone else in my house was ordering in pizzas on Friday night, my fellow vets and I dragged ourselves up to Failand to play rugby in the fog against the mighty VRAC. I had been looking forward to it too, until some – no doubt well-meaning – Whatsapp user posted video footage of a suspiciously youthful alumnus of Blackrock College (cradle of Irish international rugby) now of VRAC fending away opponents like Tyson in Lilliput. The early stages of Dings Flu began to afflict your valiant reporter.

This important international game was to be played on the BGS 3G, which was a first for me and several other Vets, under special rules: no kicking outside your 22m and no contest in the scrums or in rucks after the tackle. Any idea that this meant VRAC weren’t taking this seriously was dispelled on arrival – sinister figures under the lights were already to be seen performing disciplined drills in the mist.

Giddings (our captain in the absence of Trez who had been delayed on the sauce at work) told us to relax and confided in me that he felt like Sir Francis Drake at Plymouth finishing a last game of bowls, as he casually changed before meeting our Valladocian opponents. And when we did eventually shamble out and found our way onto the pitch we looked a bit like a fire drill at an old folks home compared to the tourists. No problem; a rousing team talk ensued: “We can’t approach this like an ordinary Vets match or we’ll get stuffed – these boys are up for it – some of them have played for Spain in the World Cup against the All Blacks and this is your chance to test yourselves against the best!” etc. This had a visibly galvanizing effect on the people either side of me (“yes” “ come on” squeezing of the huddle and so forth) but I have to say it got me thinking of those Dominoes pizzas back in tranquil Henleaze, and more to the point, the opportunity of eating them without the prior use of a liquidizer. This, I believe, confirms me to be a proper Vet and the galvanized others as ambitious failures.

The warm-up was enjoyable as I treated the lineout pods to some ignore the call, just guess where it’s going while the backs discussed tactics after a vigorous but brief bout of Touch.

Kick off. I suffered the privilege/indignity of being on the bench for the first 15m so had a good chance to witness the opening exchanges with Berry, Boxall, Beachy, Hawko and Bricks, all making very welcome returns.

VRAC were large, galleons of fellows not just in the forwards (why didn’t they want contested scrums?) but in the backs too where they had a talented Kiwi stand off and a couple of others who stood out above the otherwise generally good standard.

The Vets forwards performed heroically, more than holding their own against a pretty decent pack. Our backs seemed to make a lot of ground whenever the ball went wide. The surface was very quick and made life difficult for some normally steadfast defenders who, missing the levelling effect of a couple of pounds of mud on each boot (see Leeds Uni OB report 2019) found themselves tackling fog and consequently the scores were startlingly high on both sides. Notwithstanding this there were some very impressive hits on both sides.
We narrowly won the first half and narrowly lost the second. The VRAC lads were brilliant value and they played this game with terrific joie de vivre but still very much competing from start to finish.

They enjoyed tackling us immensely (as to the enjoyment and the force applied) which took its toll; Kirk hurt his knee and came limping off a bit early for my liking and then, when he did go back on, got booted in the gob quite impressively. Tinks was one of a flotilla of reinforcements to arrive mid-game and also sprained his knee quite impressively, later seen raiding the freezer for the medical peas.

Ref Berry enjoyed our cancelled front lineout call which someone then replaced with ‘middle’ (obviously a front throw – middle) which in fact turned out to be an intended middle call, but was disappointed when we switched from the faintly patronising Fernando scrum-time theme tune to Jona Lewis’ Stop the Cavalry as their seemingly endless replacements looked ever more likely to overwhelm us! I am pleased to report (to all those OBs doing their duty on foreign soil and therefore still unaware of the outcome) that the cavalry charge was arrested and we finished more like Eddy Tenpole Tudor’s Swords of a thousand men.

Tunnel etiquette was observed.

We won 58-57, not that anybody minded.

Mrs Millard was a fine team photographer yet again and will be playing for Dings next week.

Ref Berry just about kept up though he was hilariously poleaxed just after half time by a large Spaniard aiming a shoulder at someone else.

The post-match festivities began tamely enough with a pint and very good snake and pygmy back at the Club and then VRAC arrived (having attended to their toilette more carefully than their Saxon counterparts) and began to toast us vigorously in Spanish before dishing out tour stash – VRAC scarves and shirts, much appreciated – and enjoying the skis which, for those of you who are not Gay Arrows and haven’t seen them in action, involves drinking from four pint glasses glued to a ski in two teams.

Like the match, the Skiing was remarkably close but I think, like the match, we might have just shaded it, Hullis and Bricks showing suspiciously good swallowing aptitude.

A rousing (and surprisingly tuneful) chorus of Home and Away Johnners is Gay completely bewildered our new friends though it didn’t stop
them from joining in – Johnner’s gayness transcending borders once again – and so was rounded off my night. I left at about 10.00 when most of the Vets were still at the Club in full swing with the VRAC boys and I don’t know how it ended, though I predict that it got very messy indeed and went on for a very long time.

STANNI