Finally - old fashioned 3rd XV rugby

Camp Hill III’s 27 Birmingham Exiles II’s 7

Right, not much time for a lengthy report this week so in brief

Bloxy, outstanding, everyone else – quite good.

OK, might manage a little bit more

It’s been an interesting start to the season for CHRFC’s illustrious 3rd XV.

The loss of players at the top end of the club and numerous finger injuries (makes you wonder about higher level rugby – what’s with all the fingering?) has put pressure on numbers in the lower reaches as players have been taking the opportunity to step up and represent the club in more senior teams.
This is how it should be but the pressure has been to the point where we finished one game with 12 players on the park and – for the first time in my recent memory – had to cry another off due to lack of numbers.

From what I can make out it was also a bad day at the office away at Yardley and District last week so all in all it’s been an indifferent start.

Happily there was no malaise this week and we managed to field a team that had a proper 3rd XV feel to it. A number of old heads, some lads who have not been around for a while and a sprinkling of younger lads itching to make their senior debuts.

This was not in any small part thanks to Shep who against the odds is warming to the task of Chairman of Selectors – well done, mate, keep it up.

So – even after the ritual last minute pillaging from the 2nds we took to the field with a full side more or less in the correct positions and 4 subs – luxury.

Exiles were out early looking quite good in the warm up, running up and down a little bit, a bit of shouting at each other, fumbling the ball round and generally looking like they sort of knew what they were doing.

Normally here I would laugh at our apathetic and inept approach at getting things together but today was different – perhaps bolstered by the return of a few experienced faces (Floydy, Lewis, Chef Dave, Ade) but we worked our way through a few lineouts, the backs tried a few moves together and we were ready to start on the whistle (where usually we’d be waiting for Stonky to come huffing on, purple faced from the effort of lacing his boots and still pulling his shorts up).

Jumbo the ref (clearly an African referee and not an Indian one judging by the size of the ears) braced himself against a gust of wind that caught his lobes and threatened to have him off his feet, composed himself, trumpeted once and we were off…to set up camp in their 22 and pretty much stay there all game.

The early pressure was all ours. The day was cold, the pitch was wet and heavy and it was clearly going to be the forwards that decided the result of this game. We threw wave after wave of forward pressure at them, dominated the scrums, managed to win a few lineouts and on the odd occasion it got flung out to the backs we managed to get enough bodies to the breakdown to clear out effectively and start again. Occasionally they would hoof it up pitch or we would infringe and allow them to clear but it was soon that we were back in possession and pressing.

Aside from marvelling at what almost looked like real rugby, the numerous and high spirited (i.e. half pissed) and somewhat partisan crowd continued to offer splendidly well educated and insightful thoughts on the performance and efforts of the gallant Corinthians on display.
Indeed, it seemed that most of the homeless people of Shirley had made the effort to turn up and shout well considered if barely comprehensible slurrings of encouragement – brilliant and just as 3rd XV rugby should be – even the supporters were a shambles!

The Exiles defence worked overtime and they held us out time after time and with the score at 0-0 after 20 minutes of this pressure I started to get a little nervous that we had not converted the possession into points (it seemed it might only take a break away try or a fluke score from them and we might lose a bit of heart and allow them back in) however after the correct decision to take a penalty scrum 5 yards from their line the forwards pressure resulted in the inevitable penalty try. I think Floydy had grounded over the line anyhow however Nelly took us under the posts to assure the conversion – majestically signalling from between the posts, ears flapping gently in the breeze

Constant defence and the conditions were talking their toll on Exiles and their defence was creaking so it came as no surprise when we executed a good lineout a few metres from their line to set up a quality rolling maul that resulted in Chef Dave crashing over for his first ever try!!
To all others it resembled an ageing walrus slapping out of the sea onto the ice, no doubt to the Chef it will become a 40 yard sprint with the grace of a gazelle rounding a dozen defenders and gently dotting down twixt the posts – either way a fine finish to a surprisingly well executed move – well done Dave.

Half time – 12 – 0 up and seemingly in control.

The only potential stutter came immediately after half time when we had made a number of changes and despite the obvious quality of the lads that came on, the break in continuity coupled with a bit of renewed vigour after the rest from Exiles resulted in us not doing the basics, Exiles stealing the ball in a ruck, fly hacking on and although it seemed we had got back in time to ground first Dumbo decided that one of thier chasing players had been interfered with and awarded another penalty try which was converted. This seemed to spur them on a bit and the next few minutes were a pretty even affair however as we slowly began to gel with the on comers normal service was soon resumed and the forwards began to once again dominate.

At this point we unleashed a hitherto unseen special weapon – one of the young lads to come on is known as Nige (real name Andy) and it seems he has made a bit of a name for himself with the under 17’s – it quickly became obvious why – an absolute exocet of pace with phenomenal strength in contact.

Known as Nige thanks to the uncanny similarities between himself and his self appointed mentor the BT Bird Busby – speed, pace, physical attributes, ball skills – you get the ironic picture; any how this lad is one for the future.

His first touch was on our own 22, the ball fumbled through most of our backs hands out to the left wing and off he went – left 3 or 4 defenders clutching thin air, bounced another couple before being muscled out to touch somewhere in their 22.

That’ll do.

It was during the ensuing play that a tired looking Exiles once again infringed close to their line , we elected to scrum, dominated the set play and drove 5 or 6 yards for Floydy to pick up at 8, stumble a couple of feet like a drunken Russian and timber over the line for a lovely No. 8 score.

The next 2 scores were belters.

A scrum more or less on Exiles 10 metre line, the overworked but flawless number 9 brilliantly deciding to flick the ball to the short side (cant pass off his left) to Nige who did what we now know he does – rapid 25 yards, burn the defensive winger, bounce the covering back row and slot down in the corner – well played, great score.

The final score was from a rare Exiles sojourn into our 22.

Despite conspiring to lose the ball almost from the kick off our defensive forward play squeezed the Exiles attack to the point of slowly losing ground eventually resulting in slow and poor ball to their backs.
Our sliding defence confused the inexperienced number 10 who hesitated allowing Camps centres to really pressure the attacking line.
The pass was forced and intercepted by Lewis who looked up, saw 60 empty metres in front of him and shit himself.
He looked round for Nige (who was buried under the previous ruck or something) so Lew shit himself again and had no choice but to go for it.
Now, those of you who know Lewis will know that 15 years ago this would have been a stroll in the park for a young centre with gas, however 15 years of drinking with Erdington, and subsequently Uncle Ellis, leaves Lewis with doubts about his wheels.
No need – despite the hoots of derision from the now paralytic army of Parrafins on the sidelines and the breathless utterings of his asthmatic, purple faced playing colleagues Lew made the 60 yard plus dash to dot down a terrific score in the corner, out pacing a number of younger Exiles players. After the inevitable oxygen, resuscitation and sick bag he looked quite pleased with himself.

It was singularly pleasing to see Ade Melhuish prancing topless across the pitch in the late stages to cover for one of their poorly props that we had broken – the body of a god that man – we all know which one (see photo).
The parrot-pissed pikies on the sideline particularly enjoyed that bit.

After that it was a case of a final shrill trumpet from the efelump in green before it became dangerously windy and we were all done.

Other performances of note came from Dave ‘Boom’ Hartley in defence (the only man I’ve ever heard actually say boom to himself as he makes the tackle).
Matt Faulkner made his No.10 debut (to my knowledge) and played very well for a debutant in that position.
Elvis made a great ‘on the line, keep it in play catch and clear it’ type effort and generally tackled everything that came his way, and on the other wing JK played great – not too much action but positionally and defensively excellent.
All the young lads that came on settled in very quickly and reportedly enjoyed their afternoons enormously.
Rich Carter played in the image of his dad and had a stormer, a proper handful for the opposition.
Flembo senior looked absolutely knackered inside 5 minutes, played almost the whole game looking like that and was a big part of the reason for the forwards domination.
Hackney played like an angry bear at hooker, leapt in the lineout like a slightly pissed salmon, and played the rest of the game like a Jack Russell trying to hump your leg – brilliant – more please Tom
Stevie Ulliot and Young Andy on the back row - a huge part of the forwards effort, snuffing out everything from the base of the scrum and ever present at the breakdown

Exiles played the game in good spirits – I think it must have been clear for them that they were in for a tough afternoon from early on, especially up front, but they didn’t wilt and kept at it until the end – well done lads, good junior rugby in the spirit it should be played.

Most regular readers will know of my undying love for our colleagues in green without whom we would not be able to play every week.
On this occasion however it’s fair to say that auld Nelly had a great afternoon, played with the flexibility needed at this level whilst dealing with the important things, communicated excellently, enjoyed the banter from players and alikadoos alike and all round added to the occasion.

So – a great afternoon, perfect junior rugby, a pleasure to be part of – more please, threes…

Oh, Naturally, Bloxy was outstanding…