Old Covents 2nds 10 - 24 Coventrians 2nds

Cov & Mid Warks RFU 2nd XV Cup Quarter Final - KO 7:00pm

at OC's ground, Tile Hill Lane, under lights!

OCs Mauled by Pride of Blue & White Lions!

Wow! Saturday's Old Wheats woes were banished in cracking fashion as we showed the boys in black, yellow and red just who the real Coventrians are. On a night for heroes, 16 men in blue and white tore at OCs like a pack of tenacious, hungry wolves baring their teeth and showing steel as well as finesse.

But if you don't mind, I'm going to drink this bottle of wine and just might pull a match report out of the bag tomorrow. For now I will sleep contented on the memory of a special, floodlit Covent's night.

So there we were; a rock hard pitch, chilly breeze, 16 men strong and true, a shed load of supporters and Sean back where he belongs, running the touch. We came, we saw and oh how we conquered.

Old Covents took the lead early doors 5-0 but this was just a minor setback as Real Covents roared back with 19 year old winger Joff scorching in at the corner after 16 mins. I say corner, he could've lay down under the sticks and lit a big Cuban before dotting but that's youth for you. Still, the flying Warthog Lawrence removed his carpet slippers, donned his steel toecaps and thumped a whopper straight through for 7-5.

Suddenly there was magic in the night air as our boys came alive and felt belief coursing through their veins. This belief bore fruition as DJ (propping for the night) stole ball he had no right to, fed hooker Danny who put Tom Cobden in up the touch. Tom kicked, was tackled without the ball but before we could cry 'Ref!' Joff had raced in for his second try and 12-5. Lawrence left his slippers on and missed but no matter, the boys were rumbling.

From the front row with DJ and Danny fired up, to the twiglets (Screech & Bonce) in the engine room to the McDonalds fed supersize at No 8 and Kev Walters hunting on the flank. This transmitted to No 9 Gough at his grumpiest ("where's the fackin' water?") Scrappy at 10, Lol, Dougie (welcome back son) Kev's mate and Will (tackling like tigers) Joff, by now with two tries under his belt and tackling ankles on the bone hard pitch, resembling a young Jeff Platt. We were cooking on gas mark 8 and it was a joy to behold. OCs were feeling the pressure too as their 6 saw yellow for a cheap kick to Keiran's fat after a dust up earlier. This was cold steel time, the fuzzy wuzzys did not like it up 'em as we collectively fronted up big style and got in their face again and again. This was perfectly illustrated by Dougie when their pink socked No 9 asked for the ball and Deadeye sent it 400 yards over his head. If looks could kill but this was not The Gentlemen v Corinthians at Lords ....

So 12-5 at half time and no let up from our boys in the second period as 3 minutes in, a colossal hit by Danny Pearson that was felt in Broad Lane set up a situation for DJ and the rest of the pack behind enemey lines but wrestling manfully, couldn't quite ground it. On the hour, Joff hobbled off after bravery above and beyond the call of duty and Cider Visor came on. Just after this, OCs scored to make it 12-10 but on 64 mins, with Covents attacking again, a loose ball bobbled in the corner with their fullback and the Flying Warthog both thundering towards it. As we held our breath and could hardly watch on the touchline, said fullback took an almighty swing with his right boot and completely missed the ball (AIR SHOT!!!) leaving Lawrence to dot down joyfully (and miss the resulting kick in his flip flops) for 17-10.

The last fifteen or so became a titanic tussle as OCs, sensing they were going out to opposition from three leagues below, summoned one last surge to at least make extra time. This only served to stiffen the resolve of our boys who defended for their very lives, sucking energy from God knows where to repel the borders. This was encapsulated by a monster hit from Grumpy Gough and Scrappy (bless him) plucked the pill and sprinted three quarters of the pitch, little legs blurring like Billy Whizz and dotted between the sticks, sending us lot loopy with delight. Lawrence slotted, the ref blew and the game was up.

As Oscar Wilde once said, "We are all in the gutter but some of us are looking at the stars," and tonight Coventrians reached out to them with a performance full of heart, spirit, passion, pride and no little skill. Kev Walters called it during his half time Churchillian (no not the dog on the advert) speech. We were playing for the left tit, that little blue and white badge that when you're wearing it with 14 other boys, sometimes makes you feel like a giant. Well tonight was one of those times as we bestrode Tile Hill Lane like 16 colossi and bloody glad I was to be there too!