Wednesday 20th April 2011

Broadstreet 2nds 45-3 Coventrians 2nds

Cov & Mid Warks RFU Cup Semi-Final

Covents Bow Out Bravely in Tough Semi

With the sun still shining and as if it wasn't hot enough in Broadstreet's kitchen, Covents were left reeling from 5 cry offs and an injury including the entire back row. This changed the tie from Kilimanjaro to Mt Everest but this sort of adversity is what Covents thrive on; for Custer's Last Stand, The Alamo and Rourke's Drift Covents have fought their own battles in the face of superior forces; Newbold 1977, Barkers Butts 1982 and Kenilworth 1986.

Who would be Covents' coach? With Bopper searching for 15 bodies he suddenly realised he could pick himself and so put his tired old body on the line once more. He even asked me but a brief recce told me there were too many trees to safely land an air ambulance. With the thin blue line in place, staring down 15 players from a club operating 5 leagues higher and bristling with a mixture of fast young bucks and some gnarled fatties the sport commenced.

It soon became apparent that we wouldn't be spending our holidays in Broadstreet's 22 but these boys in blue and white refused to take a backward step and hit them with everything they had, getting in their faces and up close and personal with big hits and solid scrums ensuring that Street had to work for every point. Our line was breached in the 9th minute for 5-0 and 4 minutes later, our powerhouse prop Haydon Clarke did an ankle. So down to 14 then? Not a bit of it; Muttley, whose son plays football for Covents juniors, grabbed his boots and at the tender age of 47, sprinted on allowing Mr. Versatile, captain, feels no pain and Dick Griffith's grandson D J to move to prop. At this point I must mention Steve Vallis our other prop who, with a cunning plan to even the balance a bit, put his concrete chin up to be punched but although severely tempted, his opposite number didn't fancy a night in the hand clinic.

In the 16th minute we broke into their half when a Deadeye torpedo forced their fly half to call a mark. Following this, they attacked up the middle but Danny made a superb tap tackle to keep them at bay. Unfortunately in the 19th minute, running out of our 22, Lawrence knocked on at centre, Street gathered and ran in to score for 12-0. A minute later, sensing blood in the water, the Street sharks surged forward only to be met by a strong Scrappy tackle and then Muttley got well stuck in on the wing to break down another home attack. Stirring stuff from Dad's Army!

After 23 minutes we could hold back the tide no longer and they crossed for 19-0. Then the ball was kicked beyond our defence and as their No 7 charged onto it, we shouted to last man Bopper "IT'S BEHIND YOOOOU!" Bopper turned like the QE2 and eventually manged to gather because 7 overran it.

So trailing 26-0 at half-time the lads assembled and vowed to fight on. Broadstreet, who had put 70 up Dunlop (3 leagues above us) in the last round were being made to look sloppy; they were knocking on, dropping ball and did not like being smashed.

The first half started badly as immediately in our 22, they went over despite a great hit from Grumpy Gough for 33-0. In the 7th min of the second period, DJ typified our spirit with two big smashes, one in a maul and then, spreading himself, the other in the three quarter line. Two minutes later, a Street player was storming up the line, home contingent exhorting him on when our 6 foot 4 inch, 10 and a half stone 2nd row Screech cut him in half and put him into Binley Woods! These boys were going down fighting and it was a joy to behold. Another try went over but half way through the second period Paul Brindley got into the act with some terrific tackles, the best of which saw him race in, smash an attacker back and steal the pill.

After an hour, Bopper's body finally caught the last stage out of town leaving him in a heap hurting from everywhere except his little finger. As he limped off, the tardy Rohan joined the fray. By now, with their superior fitness showing through, Street were camped in our 22 but once again Covents boys poured in with some awesome tackling, hit after hit they repelled the enemy borders with great tenacity until finally Street dotted right in the corner, unconverted for 45-0. Just time at the end for us to break into their 22 and slot a consolatory penalty for 45-3 and although I asked the referee (after he'd blown for full time) if last score wins it, he shook his head.

The handshakes were firm and genuine. Their manager said "thanks for the game coach, you really made us work" (to me ....) the referee said "make sure you pat everyone on the back for their fantastic effort." Somehow, against the might of Broadstreet, shorn of 5 or 6 of our first team, with a patched up thin blue line with hearts as big as houses we came away from last night with a lot of credit and one or two admirers. To us, just a normal day at the office and getting to a semi-final by beating Old Covents is an achievement to be immensely proud of in my book so without further ado, the roll of honour from last night.

Haydon; bulldozer who has played with a dodgy ankle that has supported his 19 stone far too long and gave out. Danny; was his usual tenacious self, cut him and he'll bleed blue and white. Vallis, was just fat and bloody annoying to the whole Street pack - good man for bringing a maul down. Screech; the lad is a twiglet who just wants to adjust his scrum cap and drink water but will run through a brick wall and so light, is easy to lift in a lineout but we must watch we don't throw him into the woods. Bonce; spends the whole game screaming at and bollocking Screech but again wears that badge as if his life depended on it. Visor; was drafted in to the flank and had a great game although couldn't get hands on their nippy scrum-half. DJ; Captain courageous, will play anywhere including prop without so much as a whimper. High pain threshold and will run through oak. Bopper; silly old b*stard but we would be lost without him as he put his wreck of a body out there for one last smashing. Kyle; been away for over a year and by the looks, spent it eating pork pies. 5 foot 5, 24 stone and again did it for the club he loves and because Vallis loves his tits. Grumpy Gough; keeps the boys driving forward from 9, didn't have to shout for water once as I kept pace all night (hence the Ibruprofen now). Scrappy; lives in WOLVERHAMPTON and plays at 10, doesn't always find touch but what a bloke, overflowing with commitment to the cause. Lawrence; the flying warthog, pace and a hefty right boot, can tackle like a tiger as long as they run straight, love this boy but he needs to do some sit ups. Josh; silky skills, scored our points at the end with an important kick. Paul Brindley; had an awesome defensive game last night, time after time making big hits to stem the attacking tide. Deadeye Doug; an old stager, worn the blue and white for over 10 years, guesting again and glad we were for his experience, kicking from hand and general grumpiness. Finally to Muttley; 47 and a footballer's Dad. Drinks in the Craftsman so obviously no stranger to large groups of big men ripping and mauling each other. Commited the cardinal sin of mentioning he had boots - "POOF" he was on the field in a flash and performed so well he's now a life member!

So I'm away to wipe the tears and clear this lump in my throat and leave the final word to a quote from our old mucker Dick Potter. "Boys, a pleasure as usual."

For photos click here