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| Uddingston v 1XV 04/10/08 Bothwell Castle Policies 12 - 28 It was a cold, grey morning, the weak mid morning sun hiding in clouds like a paper cone in a cotton candy machine. I yawned and stretched, breathing in the heady mixture of stale booze and expensive perfume. There had been a woman here at some point, but she was gone now. I got up and made myself something to eat then headed out to pick up the Molls. They had plans for the night and I owed them a favour. I guess we're even now. With the Molls primped and loaded into my 1957 Cheverolet, we set out to find "The Villagers". Armed only with a crude map of the area, a rough sense of direction and the ability to read a map and drive at the same time, we cruised eastward out of the city. Thirty minutes, and a few wrong turns later we pitched up outside our destination. The weather was still as black as the young Moll's nail varnish, but the whitewash on the clubhouse looked fresh and promising. The interior was fresh as well, as was the welcoming committee. They too had plans, the creation of a garden of Hope in aid of Marie Curie Cancer Care, a worthy and laudable venture, and one that is close to this old shoestring's heart. The rest of the team arrived in drips and drabs thereafter:- Ian (the Duck) Waddell, Big Cheese, Kenny (Iron ball) McNaughton, Stuart (Big Baby) Gillies, Marcus (LeCoq) Littlejohn, Graeme (Boom Boom) Mayo, Gary (the chairman) Thompson, Alan (Westy) Henderson, Paul (pizza face) Patterson, Phil (Peedee) Dolan, Chris (The Arm) Butler, Danny (Tetley) Bruce, Nik (The knife) Rossi, Alan (Last minute Hero) Watson, Andy (New Boy) Logan, John (The Transporter) Shaw and Colin (Toothless Wonder) Gray Soon after we looked out of the window and saw "The Villager's" running drills and preparing for us. They had been hurt the past couple of weeks and were looking to put it right. This was not going to be a walk in the park. As we went out onto the pitch, I could feel the wind sniping at us, cutting through the layers of clothing like a blind man searching for a nickel. The rain was coming in sideways making it hard to lift your head up. During the warm up, "the Arm" suffered a twinge in his back, we hunted for the hitman, but he was long gone…. Or so we thought. "The Arm" took the field though, and held his own well. With the wind and rain at our backs, and the slope in our favour we racked up a quick two tries from "Tetley'' and "PeeDee" which the Last Minute Hero converted from angles that would have stumped Pythagoras. The bonus point was ours for the taking, we could smell it, but maybe we just weren't hungry enough right then cause the boil went off the game and the half ended 14 - 0 in favour of the Men in Noir. Uddingston had obviously played this game before. Their boss didn't look happy and there must've been some nuts placed in vices and families held hostage cause they started the second half with fire in their bellies throwing everything they had at an increasingly soporific Police team and soon the score was 14- 5. Some strong defence, and slack handling, not helped by the dirty conditions, kept the villager's out of the points, but not for want of trying. A quick score by "Boom Boom" from the resulting restart settled the nerves and even when the villager's clawed one back AND converted it, it was still only a matter of time before the bonus point was secured. Having lost no fewer than two loosehead props to injury, that damned hitman back in town, it fell to the only remaining prop from the starting line up to seal the deal. "The Duck" crashed over for the fourth try late into the second half and secured the try bonus as well as Man Of The Match, Last Minute Hero again took the extra points. It felt strange trudging back to the clubhouse. The game was over, we were victorious, but it didn't feel like we'd won anything. The score flattered us, and we knew it. On another day, there would have been questions to answer. The one that was raised though was how 18 men were supposed to wash off 80 minutes worth of mud using only condensation. If we had been happy coming off the pitch the cold water trickling from the showers, making it impossible to turn on more than one without losing all pressure, would certainly have taken the shine off it. I can only suppose they'll sort it when visiting teams leave immediately after the game without spending a penny in their bar. Sometimes, when the choice is Beer or Clean, the Clean shout wins. So I left the Village early and cruised back to my apartment. The girl was back, so maybe all wasn't lost after all. |