Again, maybe a little too soon, the boys were off down the road to be beside the seaside, this time hosted by Irvine. Once again there was no glimpse of seaside, no ice-cream, no donkey-rides, no sunshine, but we did have an awfully good time…
Having opted, or maybes having been rail-roaded, into following Mitchell Snr. and ex-PC Mini who reportedly knew the way the minibus arrived with little time to spare, and will perhaps be sticking to their travelling Sat-Nav team in the future.
All decanted to the truly palatial Irvine changing rooms, for a quick turnaround and out onto the tropical Irvine turf. Tropical may be a slight exaggeration. It was in fact freezing, with blowyblowy wind, occassional hailstones and some jaggy cold rain, so well done to the travelling support who trooped down the road to cheer the boys on. Always much appreciated.
With a few changes from team that started the season Hills boys are having to regroup and perform under the pressure of injuries and suspensions, a difficult task for them under the high expectations of boss-man and the regular support who are still on the look out for something special.
Newsteam was definetely present, though was nearly blown away, by the gale force wind, not the astounding rugby, at points. Unfortunately our spying news reporter peepers were frozen and so the action, spied through the icy wind, is a little diluted and disjointed.
The wind put the dampeners on Hills expansive game, the weather and heavy itch being far better suited to the home sides close quarters stuffy forwards game, they were big and strong in the contact but tired quickly, Hills fitter more mobile pack quickly began to dominate. Captain Stu was quick and decisive in the contact area, producing some turnover ball, and DC at 8 worked tirelessly creating opportunities out among the backs and shoring up the Hills defences in the middle.
Haddon played well at scrum-half, annoying all the Irvine-ites enough to be stomped on, something of an accolade for a scrum-half we think? Cammy did well at 10, adapting his game to the windy conditions. Some way through the game Gaffer lost a contact, but ruled it too windy for a replacement, and played otu the subsequent quarter fairly well for a blind man. The boys adapted to the conditions well, and definitely proved the fitter of the two teams, running away with the game in the final 15 minutes, but there are still some things to work on. Ball retention, among the tight 5 particularly has been poorand inconsistent. Perhaps the bosh that is proving so effective in the lower leagues needs to be reigned in a bit? A little discipline and more concentration on these basics is needed to build the base for Hills to go from strength to strength.
The nod from Boss-man Keith this week, who appeared relatively calm in the circumstances, and may or may not have given a thumbs up, the wind quickly blew the thumbs to a middling so-so position, and that is what Newsteam will go with, anyways the nod for Chosen One went to Dougie Crichton who has been very impressive this past few weeks since securing the 8 slot. He’s raised his game, and while maybes a bit little compared to the previous candidates DC has bossed the back row, and been very effective off the back of scrums, and showed his pace and rugby genius linking well with the backs in open play. The quick feisty back row team of DC, Rosey and Fireman Stu is working well, providing the quick ball the backs need to work some magic.
So well done Dougie. Everyone is much impressed. And second award of Ladies Choice this week, for the second week running, from an entirely different lady, goes to Gus at the back who played well given the conditions, kicking under pressure, and runnign a bit more with ball in hand. Always a winner with the crowd.
Finally we have a Chump of the Week award, which is actually a story from Ardrossan, but given the proximity of the two, and the lack of notable hilarity Irvine we’ll bring it back up.
Aboard the bus, singular that week, the rabble of forwards lumped in with the show-ponies for the short trip south, a distinctive whiff wafted forward to the driver.
“What the bejesus is that smell?” said the driver, in words to that effect.
“Chicken broth! You want some?! do you, do you? I’ve got lots!” is kind of what the ever-excitable Rosey replied.
“Uh…no.” was the general sentiment returned.
So food for the journey had been opened before we were even in motion. There sat Rose-dawg with his tupperware box (an appropriate soup container? Questionable…) slurping away, when we took off from the Hughenden car park up the wee lane of pot-holey doom. The soup didn’t last much longer, splish-splash-splatter. The soupy decoration was not appreciated. Stuart, you chump, soup goes in a flask, and should generally be saved for those times in your life when you are not in motion. If you must eat, please make it solid, and preferably less odorsome…
A full set of awards, and home to Fortress Hughenden with a 27-3 win, where Buckfast club may well have taken place. More to come on this abomination of club culture.
