The Battle Of Bramley Sports Ground

By Ruairidh Nichols

As you can imagine with a score line that reads 79-5 the details of who did what, when, become somewhat hazy. As such, this author will try to weave a narrative more akin to the Homeric epics than your typical prosaic match reports, and let none be in doubt that this was an epic worthy of those ancient bards.
The battleground, Bramley Sports Ground. A great band of heroes trickled into the encampment in twos and threes. They were greeted by the unusual sight of Morgan Carter-Tocny early to the ramparts. In the absence of our glorious leader, Evan being stuck in traffic (a problem which I am sure has plagued humanity since the dark ages), Chris Green valiantly took up the charge and led our band of heroes onto the field for some pre-battle manoeuvres. Eventually, his chariot having arrived, our warriors were able to don their green, yellow and black armour and make their way out for battle.
Like the opening forays of any great clash both sides strode out incensed. Frazer Findlater took the first kickoff and laid it off to Evan who suffered the first blow from his opponent. The battle for the midfield continued until a strong tactical kick from a penalty put us within a stone’s throw of the line. Unfortunately the fates are cruel mistresses for, having thrown the lineout, the great Aeolus let loose the four winds from their cave and sent the ball at a right angle from its intended direction. A scrum and a turnover later it was the early bird Morgan himself who led the charge, bursting through the enemy lines to put our first points on the board.
In a theme which was to dominate the rest of the contest Frazer again took the ball from the kick off only to be wrapped up by his opponent. Some strong work by the might phalanx that is the pack followed with notable crash balls from Dan Brett and Fred Bromley helped Finsbury advance until a timely offload found our leader coveting himself in glory as he barrelled over the line.
It was in this moment that our opponents found their spirit and pressed hard upon the Finsbury defence. Wave after wave of charges brought our opponents closer to the line until a penalty was awarded. Saracens put the ball to the corner and executed a well drilled move which saw a dummy jump, the ball being passed to the front of the line and then offloaded to the winger who was unlikely to be stopped from such a short distance. A near miss saw the conversion attempt go wide.
The matched kicked off again with a now enraged Finsbury looking to prove their worth. A strong chase pinned our opponents in their half until a mistake turned over the ball. Phase after phase the Fins washed against the enemy lines until the great Ajax of the day (Chaz Dempsey) brushed aside those mere mortals before him to touch down for Finsbury’s third try of the day.
Our Nestor (Gaz Chapman), wise beyond his years, entered the field to scold us for such barbarian arrogance. Tighten up our game was his instruction and who were we to deny him. With Frazer commanding battle from his unfamiliar position at 9 the reds, blues and, dear god was there even a green in there, were sent forth. Pat as always delivered some devastating runs to press Finsbury’s advantage. Evan crossed the line once more, swiftly followed by Chris Green in a superb display of vision and agility. Another such feat of agility came from swift-footed Bertrand Debeuf who found himself in clear space with an option beside him should it prove necessary. Alas the hubris of the man for when indeed this reinforcement did prove to be necessary he in fact chose to deliver the ball to Gaia (i.e. he chucked it on the ground). Little did it matter however as by some miracle the ball went backwards and was reclaimed by Finsbury. A few phases later and the oak-like Chaz had crossed the line once more.
Calm reigned as half time tolled. Our heroes readied themselves for the recommencement of battle and recommence it did. As if spurred on by Ares himself, Saracens stormed up the pitch with renewed vigour, but alas just like Ares they were outdone by patience and wisdom. A strong defensive effort from Chris Neels saw the ball turned over and the ball spread wide to our young Patroclus (Josh Tysseling) who proved his worth as he triumphantly crossed the line.
It was at this point that the hope faded from the eyes of our opponents. Finsbury pressed home their advantage. Another penalty saw Finsbury on the Saracens 5 metre line and there isn’t much chance of stopping our mighty maul from that position. Some further dogged work in the rucks from Alex Wood and the forwards set up a line from Pat which the opposition were powerless to stop. Our opponents seemed to dig deep in the next 10 minutes and rediscover their strength for a valiant defence was raised which even such giants as Aaron Carter could not breach. That was until our early bird struck again. A swift side-step, a quick dart and a blistering line and Morgan had once again crossed the whitewash. The swift footed were to dominate the following 15 minutes of the contest with gazelle-like Gus and titanic Tristan crossing the lines. The grumblings of the opposition could be heard throughout the pitch for when Tristan went to touch down for his first try and he tried to give Ed Morden a better angle from which to attempt the conversion the opposition could be heard scorning him for taking so long.
The end of the match drew near. A scrum on the halfway line in which the immovable Conor Gantly made his opponent wish that he had not challenged him gave the backs the opportunity to make a break through the centres. One phase later, in an aristeia which has not been seen since the time of Achilles, Chaz took the ball on and swatted away a first, second, third and fourth opposition player to complete his quartet of scores.
Mention must of course be made of our kickers in this contest who all sent the ball flying over the posts in 7 out of the 13 tries.
And so ends my tale... venimus, vidimus, vicimus!