The Greatest Game on Earth
There are few things on earth sweeter than victory. Beating a team with at least two very loud cry babies on it, is one of them.
Supposedly out-matched and out-gunned BRFC was instructed to wear ‘the stupid face’ and there was no better way to describe what we went out there and did. Having lost two regular season games to the Locks, BRFC knew they were the underdogs that fateful day.
In perfectly articulate defiance of their record, BRFC played their best game to date against guys who couldn’t make their team worth more than the sum of its parts.
A cross between too many penalties, a healthy wind and a not unremarkable individual effort put the Locks up at least 10 points at the half.
Reassured by their coach BRFC went out in the second half almost certain that the Locks didn't get up by enough to secure a victory. A 10 point lead is not enough when you have the wind, they didn't do enough. So BRFC fought and fought and fought until they had 10 points and their opponents had 13. And we were awarded a penalty on their 5 metre line.
Then came the scrum.
Imagine. Beauty. In unified motion.
Then multiply it by three.
Imagine guys yelling and screaming and hugging and yelling. Then imagine there was still a minute or two left in the game and Tim “007 license to thrill” Brown is the only one paying attention and still playing defence. Worried? Don’t be. He caught the fastest man on the planet from behind dragged him out of bounds, gave him a lecture about respecting his elders and ended the game with BRFC leading 17-13. The only ones in our way of the cup and some sort of vindication for our past injustices are Parc-O, men who respect the game possibly more than us.
Supposedly out-matched and out-gunned BRFC was instructed to wear ‘the stupid face’ and there was no better way to describe what we went out there and did. Having lost two regular season games to the Locks, BRFC knew they were the underdogs that fateful day.
In perfectly articulate defiance of their record, BRFC played their best game to date against guys who couldn’t make their team worth more than the sum of its parts.
A cross between too many penalties, a healthy wind and a not unremarkable individual effort put the Locks up at least 10 points at the half.
Reassured by their coach BRFC went out in the second half almost certain that the Locks didn't get up by enough to secure a victory. A 10 point lead is not enough when you have the wind, they didn't do enough. So BRFC fought and fought and fought until they had 10 points and their opponents had 13. And we were awarded a penalty on their 5 metre line.
Then came the scrum.
Imagine. Beauty. In unified motion.
Then multiply it by three.
Imagine guys yelling and screaming and hugging and yelling. Then imagine there was still a minute or two left in the game and Tim “007 license to thrill” Brown is the only one paying attention and still playing defence. Worried? Don’t be. He caught the fastest man on the planet from behind dragged him out of bounds, gave him a lecture about respecting his elders and ended the game with BRFC leading 17-13. The only ones in our way of the cup and some sort of vindication for our past injustices are Parc-O, men who respect the game possibly more than us.
posted by Ovett at 2:12 PM
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