“And the nations were angry, thy wrath is come, the time of the dead, that they should be judged, and that thou shouldest give reward to thy servants the prophets, and them that fear thy name, small and great; thou shouldest destroy them who destroy the earth.” Revelations 11:18

Seven Seals, Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, The Number of the Beast (which was mistranslated as 666, in actual fact is 616), Fire, Brimstone. Yes, hold onto your hats - it’s the end of the world. What with the Holy War still raging and tearing east from west, as 1000 years ago in the time of the Crusades. With society accepting acts of greed, sloth, lust, gluttony, vanity, envy & rage as just a normal episode of Jeremy Kyle for the daytime-viewing-pizza-eating-work-shy-benefit-sponging-morally-dubious-alcohol-dependent-mob-rule-layabouts (& students). With Mass Media networks pedalling propaganda for political ends to subdue the worlds proletariat from rising up against the hyper-surveillance-authorities because they’d rather drink themselves into a stupor or have sky-plus-happy-meal-premier-league-xbox-role-playing-chewing-gum-for-the-eyes-beamed-directly-into-the-brain-than-have-a-decent-conversation-or-make-something-meaningful-out-of-their-lives. It’s no wonder the world is falling out of it’s own arse.

Which brings me neatly to this weeks match report. Prophetically, perhaps, last week’s match report against Mellish went the way of the ungodly, largely because the world was indeed falling out of my arse, absent through a severe bout of dysentery and leaving the reins in the massive mittens of Nelly for his first taste of Captaincy. We lost 50 something nil. This week however, with the Meisters almost back to full strength, was The Holy Rugby Jihad itself - The match between Derby III’s & IV’s. Before I describe, what some onlookers said was more “a Mellee than a Match”, there was 1 broken ankle, 2 broken noses, 1 knockout, 1 gashed head, 3 yellow cards and 31 heads that should be hanging in shame – all in all 4 visits to casualty.

The previous game in December was a similar affair when The 4th’s went down to 14 men in the 1st five minutes but held on 0 – 0 till half time, before capitulating in the 2nd half after the Dev’s made very hard work of winning.

The game kicked off with a motivated Meisters pack hurling themselves into every tackle. First blood went to the Meisters after a knock on from ‘The Infearno’ was lazily left by Ireland leaving Brado to majestically swoop and sidestep the Devs defence and run in an unconverted try after 5 minutes. The Devs hit back with some good possession, the Meisters were solid – but a little too eager. With the two Dev ringers (Fitch & Wilcox) making all the play it was Pete Wilcox who eventually bashed in a score for the Devs, converted 7 – 5. The Meister had a chance to go in the lead with a penalty on the 22m, but with Arran absent our kicking was off the mark. Cavey put all his devious tricks to use and with The Meisters not retreating (Reubens idea of 10m needs a review), the Ref marched the Devs forwards for an eternity before awarding a needless Penalty try and yellow carded Cavey for having his offences reach double figures. 12 – 5. Heckles were raised. The name calling started, the niggles in the ruck, the whining, the cheap shots, the blind ref, the poor decisions, the lack of respect for the game, the obvious hatred of each other. This was just the first half. There was very little game play to speak of, other than the awesome defending from the Meisters which engulfed every attack. Finlay was shoulder barged off the ball by Fitch under the Refs nose, who gave him a warning, then the very next play Fitch took Cavey out off the ball and was yellow carded (Cavey admitted he was off balance and did his best ‘Italian Footballer’, but it looked deliberate). Then the Dev’s 9 ruthlessly slid in with a nasty two footed challenge on John Whiting and James Lloyd scooping up a lose ball. Miraculously nobody was seriously injured, Lloydy had cheakily stolen it and nipped off, but Whiting came off worse and retaliated via the medium of the International Language of the Swiping Fist. (3rd Yellow Card).

By the end of the half, The Meisters were camped on their 5m and the Devs could not find away through. It was during such a surge that The Dev’s 9 went down & was eventually stretchered off, obviously some in pain, with a broken ankle. Not sure how it happened, but it wasn’t pleasant.

The 2nd half carried on in exactly the same spirit. There was some awesome bone crunching tackles from Luscombe, JB, Cavey &, in particular Dean, excelling in bringing any advancing Dev (& Dev Ringer) to an abrupt halt. The Meisters spent 20 minutes in the Dev’s half, but poor discipline stopped any chance of a try. The Dev’s rare incursion into the Meisters half brought about an elusive Sanjay try after swapping sides and stretching the Meisters defence. The Ref chose to side with the Devs for the tiniest infringement. At one point, awarding the Devs a penalty for the offence of ‘Dean tackling Pete Wilcox’. However - and in hindsight – understandably, this was to cool the situation after Ackers was knocked out cold following a clash of heads with Jim Smith - directly brought about from Dean’s unique brand of domino-effect-person-squashing. But with the Meisters already feeling aggrieved, the final straw came when the equally elusive Chris McCully stole a try after a retreating Reuben allowed the ball to roll over the dead ball line, Chris cheekily dived in and pulled the ball back and was awarded the try by the oblivious Ref. This prompted a tirade of abuse, to which the Devs retaliated. To cap it all off in the final move of the game, Freddie was stamped on in a tackle, his nose was as bent as the Rules had been. The final whistle blew and the scene was reminiscent of the Battle of the Somme, bandaged and bloody, never was a costly victory gained for such a cheap loss.

After the game, a certain individual actually came over to gloat and accuse The Meisters of being bad losers. “And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who attempt to poison and destroy my brothers” Ezekiel 25:17
Hey, It’s the end of the season, not the end of the world.

An Icy cold wind lashes across the pitches at Haslams. The Meisters - consisting of Front Row: Brini, Deany & Jonny, 2nd Row: Pange & JB, Back Row: Wisey, Griff, Fordy, Charlie “Der-ler-Der” Walton at Scrum Half, Daddy Braddow smelling of nappies at Fly Half, Dawes, Bennett, Hoss, Reuben & Freddie in the Backs with Slacky & Helter Skelter as subs –brave the conditions for a return match against the able Ashbourne III’s. The last match report shows the Meisters not really turning up in the first half and losing to a considerable score despite a decent fight back in the 2nd half. The game kicks off with some showboating from The Meisters. Slick recycling from the Forwards gained considerable ground up field from the kick off. This was short lived though as the big ugly Ashbourne forwards got back into the match. They were bigger than us and it showed in the scrums. I’m not saying we were a walkover, let’s just say we gave more resistance than a Derby Uni Girl on an old boys weekend, but less resistance than Nelly being force fed a Salad. As a result of this Hybrid Salad Tart Scrum, Ashbourne was awarded a try although the No 8 was held up before the line, but who are we to argue?

Braddow at 10 was surprisingly organised, maybe Fatherhood does change people. Although, ‘Electing to Kick’ never entered the vocabulary. To be fair, he was dumped into the role and doesn’t confess to be a 10 or a kicker, however, this ‘strategy’ led to The Meisters first try (if that’s a strategy then Gary is a Hobo Image Consultant). A defensive scrum on the 5m near the touchline, going slightly backwards. Charlie Der-ler-Der’d the ball back to Braddow almost on the dead ball line, who feigns one way then runs blindside. A series of happy slaps later and he’s free belting down the touchline. Another happy slap to the sizeable Ashbourne 9 and he’s only got 40m and the fullback to beat. Of course, Dawes is doing his usual trick of keeping up and hoping for the scraps of someone else’s try. No need, a neat hand off and Braddow runs the length of the pitch for an awesome counter attack try. Reuben volunteers to kick, now if memory serves me right, the last time The Meisters-very-own -mascot – Reuben The Angry Pirate – volunteered to kick was against Paviors when he was SO close to scoring it was like the time Rob Smith turned up to Jorrocks in a dress. He would have scored if he was 6in taller. In fact, I noticed Reuben had extra long studs on to give him an extra inch (which increased his height by 23.4%) With a mighty BOOSH, he kicked and yelled “Eels coming atcha!” for effect.

He missed. (I enjoyed the literary build up though).

By the end of the half Ashbourne had scraped another try, through devious means (like beating us to the try line, it’s just not on!). The Meisters start the 2nd half a bit lack lustre and allow Ashbourne to dictate the pace. After a few minutes, Charlie Der-ler-Dislocated his shoulder and went off after what was shaping up to be a fine game for Bin-Walton. True to the form of the season, The Meisters are yet again without established players in key positions end up with Dawes at Scrum Half. Which is a bit like letting The Brain become a Children’s Entertainer (or even worse a Public Speaker) – you just know the job description isn’t going to be fulfilled. However, the game resumes without too many hiccups. JB was having a storming time throwing bodies in his wake. Griff was also having an awesome game – obviously dusting off his studs for the first time this season in an attempt to show off his Welsh Pride. Fordy was again proving why there are no Wildebeest left in Derbyshire, they’ve all been hunted down by the crazy marine’s running antics. The Meisters weren’t having any luck though and each time they gained any ground Ashbourne, demoralisingly, boot it back down field to touch. So the game bobbled along with Ashbourne comfortably 15 points up until Daddy Braddow gets the offer from Dawes to kick to touch inside the 22m with 3 mins remaining. A blank expression forms across Braddow’s face as he mouths the words “K.I.C.K. T.O. what????” As the pass comes, Braddow sees his chance … an exact replica - give or take 10m… he pops it down between the posts for yet another awesome individual run. To add insult to injury Braddow drops kicks the conversion to make the final score a face saving 22 – 12 to Ashbourne. This was an enjoyable game, in which Dawes managed more passes than the entire last 2 seasons. Favourite moment was hearing that Gary is out of action for the next 4 weeks due to a carpet related hand injury.

This match report will be brought to you via Gary’s Thoughts.

Right then, match report. Ah, well you see, a funny thing happened. I was just about to start writing it after I’d finished reading this book, you see. It’s like all about this bloke who erm… erm damn, can’t find the book now, but it’s aal reet, like. Anyway, it’s like as I was saying, I was gonna write the match report but it was only then I realised I hadn’t written the one for Burton 3 weeks ago, but it was my birthday the week after that and it was a match worth forgetting so I got side tracked… oh that reminds me have you heard of a band called “Side Tracked” they’re from Hartlepool, they’re awesome. The new album “Lynch the Monkey” is awesome too, my favourite is track 3 “Caravan Suicide”. They’re a post-modern-punk-fuelled-emo-hating-faux-garage-pop-Bowie-insipred-accapella-disco-indie band, but in a good way. Actually, they sound more like Girls Aloud than anything but you get my meaning. So there you go. See you in Jorrocks…. You what? Burton Match Report? Oh well you see. A funny thing happened, it’s like this we played against Burton a few weeks ago and lost 25 - 0, and Dawes got dead upset at half time and lost his rag. I was writing this thing with a really long involved punch line about being disgusted at people. It was very amusing, it was going to start “YOU DIZGUIST ME!!!” and then revolve around post modernist references to Albert Schweitzer & Friedrich Nietzsche – ha ha ha get it? it still makes me laugh... It was really good in my head, but I had a really good sit down after that and lost track of things when ‘Deal or No Deal’ came on… you know how it is. So let’s just call it quits, eh?

So anyway, Coalville. Well Dawes came to pick me up at 11.00 he was obviously keen to make an early start for some reason. We set off with 17 players with a strong pack consisting of Big Nelly, Little Luscombe, Dean “I-eat-Fullbacks-for-Elevensies” Kendall (who was picked up from the Airport at 1pm after flying in from Poland – Now THAT’s commitment), Jonny “Guns” Whiting & Pange “Nobody-knows-his-real-name-is-Andy-Jones-we-all-call-him-Pange” Pange in second row and then a welcome return for John “Dr Pain” Davies complete with cracked ribs, Old Boy Wisey and New Boy Dave Bennett (who proved his credentials with an audacious run that ended abruptly with a bone crunching bosh against Burton) on the back row. Finlay starts at Scrum half with Craig ‘Erik-Estrada-from-Chips’ Adkins resurfacing from duties in the II’s to slum it with the Meisters at Fly half. 7-Score-Dawes at 12, Mat “The Cat” Freer from the Colts at 13, Freddie “The Hands” Matveichuck at Fullback, Michael “Helter Skelter” Skelton & Gary “The-Williow-he-bends-but-you-can-never-break-him ” I’Anson on the wings. Tiny Charlie & Pete Sharrat were kind enough to turn up on the bench . The game kicks off and The Meisters camp down in Coalville’s 22m with some good work up front. After 5 minutes a cheeky toe poke from Dawes after Coalville’s No 10 dropped the ball, allows Erik Estrada to put his helmet & shades on, sit astride his Harley and ‘motor-on-down-the-freeway’ for a kick, kick, kick & chase – which he duly beats the retreating Coalville back and scores. No one offered to kick, so Finlay took the reins and missed. 5 – 0. The Meisters continued into the half with some excellent work up front. Finlay was ruining the Coalville scrum, spoiling & stealing at every opportunity. The forwards were bossing Coalville around the park and they were starting to get ratty. A penalty awarded on 22m in front of the posts and Capt Dawes elected to kick. Finlay stepped up, after several minutes with his trowel set digging a trench that Kitchener would’ve been proud of, placed the ball carefully, took a deep breath, did that funny Jonny Wilkinson hand thing, kicked… and hit the arse of the Coalville prop stood in front of the posts. Coalville were so surprised, it was Finlay who pounced first. The Meisters piled in and won a 5m scrum. The Meisters held firm and the Loveable Labrador Wisey (who’s actually a Jack Russell in disguise) snapped up the ball and boshed his way over the line. Why go for 3 points when you can cheat them out of 5? Next up for the Conversion comedy of errors, was Erik Estrada stepping in (“My motto is To Protect & Serve”). However, there was no tee… hey, not to worry, Erik’ll drop kick it….. Needless to say, the kick was like The Brain’s pants… very wide… with massive skid marks.

Coalville have their first spell in The Meisters half for a brief 5 minutes, but after some resolute defending and Erik Estrada pegging them back with some safety first kicks, The Meisters were soon back in Coalville’s 22m. A scrappy ball dropped by the Coalville backs under pressure led to I’Anson gloriously picking it up on the 5m and magnificently handing off at least 3 defenders to place the ball down with a swallow dive & triple pike (Editor’s Note: There were no defenders, it was a loose ball with no cover…Actually Dawes was the only person near him – admittedly Dawes did tackle I’Anson but he scored anyway.) 15 – 0 (Dawes 7 – 2 I’Anson – with 4 to play) Erik Estrada kicked with the aid of Dawes as the Tee holding the ball… it was closer but still missed.

At the turnaround we were playing well and up 15 – nil. Coalville started the 2nd half well and fought back into the game early on with a pushover try. They continued to camp down in the Meisters 22m for most of the half. Finlay went off for Tiny Charlie, I’Anson heroically went off for Pete Sharrat. The Meisters were solid in defence and kept Coalville at bay until The California Highway Patrol stepped in. At a defensive 5m scrum, Tiny Charlie zipped the ball back to Erik lurking behind the touchline waiting to kick… everybody was waiting for the kick… except there was no kick… only Chips. With a glint in his eye and sparkle in his bright white smile he decides to audaciously chip and run … except the chip in question was either underdone or, of course, a curly fry (Editors Note: gag stolen from forum) and the Coalville 10 ruined his plan by neatly catching the ball and putting it down for a try from 2 yds. 15 – 10. Nice one Erik, however if it had worked, it would have been an awesome-dead-cert-length-of-the-pitch-try, who’d be laughing then, eh?.

Answer the following multiple choice question:

Gary didn’t do the match report because:

1. His caravan burnt down.

2. He had a lot of sitting to do that week.

3. Deal or No Deal was on.

4. He took his sock out on a date.

5. He forgot.

Two weeks, two wins and two great performances, the return of Brain – if only for a fortnight - has resulted in an upswing in Meisters fortunes as welcome as it is unexpected. It’s fair to say that the omens for the Belper game weren’t good; this was meant to be a home game that as re-arranged to their place after they had a little cry. A previous visit earlier in the season had led to a 38 – 7 spanking and a display that even the most optimistic observer would have to describe as “gash”.

However, after the previous rousing victory against West Bridgford the 4s were up for the contest, despite some notable changes in personnel. The absence of a scrum half saw Chaz “float like a butterfly, sting like a bee with particularly large forearms” Walton step in at number 9. With Dawes on rock-a-by duty, Gar moved into the centres alongside Luke Hoss, and Big Nelly returned to the front row, alongside one of last week’s star performers, Dean Kendall. Due to a lack of backs, Pange performed his increasingly familiar dual role as winger cum line out jumper. With Big Rob going ‘down under’, the gap at eight was filled with the welcome return of John, despite Flower’s best efforts to sneak out of the second row.

Reuben took one for the team, playing for Belper to give them a full 15 and, more importantly, ensuring that Derby didn’t fall foul of little known RFU legislation. The infrequently enforced rule says that no team may have more than one ginger in their side at any one time and with Bron on the right wing, it was touch and go for a while as to whether the Meisters would be compliant.

With Reuben’s selfless sacrifice they stayed within the quota and, should the authorities be interested, Belper’s contingent of our auburn friends jumped to three, including our guesting angry pirate. If they hope to escape some sort of sanctions I suggest they write a letter to the governing body now, explaining their position. Such flagrant flouting of the laws of our great game can not, and should not, be tolerated!

Perhaps it was trepidation over the prospect of future action for fielding a trio of “strawberry blondes”, or perhaps it was just the excellent driving interplay from Derby’s mobile pack, but Belper were on the back foot from the off. A series of pick and drives created a big blind side for Graham to slink over for the first try of the game. Aaron couldn’t quite convert from wide on the right but the tone was set for the rest of this fast-paced, physical encounter.

Gar got an impression of just how physical when, trying to make an inside break, Belper’s big South African centre decided that whatever NASA can do with rockets he could do with two arms. After joining Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin as one of ‘the brave and the few’, “The Willow” came back down to earth… on his head. There were a few sharp intakes of breath, but as anyone familiar with the ‘Hamburg Balcony Incident’ will know, our man is made from sterner stuff.

After a little breather, Gar had a hand in the next try, chipping over the defence - a 4th team centre kicking a ball that isn’t charged down? Who’d have thought it was possible! - in the Belper 22 after the forwards had won a turnover. It bounced over the try line but rather than dot it down and take a drop-out, the home defender tried to clear the danger with his boot. One skewed kick later and Pange had pounced on the loose ball in the corner to make it 10 – 0 Derby. Aaron couldn’t land another difficult conversion, but turning round at the half, the Meisters had two goals; to keep up the application and effort, and to keep a clean sheet.

The second half started much as the first with Derby on the front foot thanks to good continuity and aggressive defence. This was typified by Bron who put in a shuddering hit on the Belper prop in a display of ginger on ginger violence normally only seen between Scottish football fans.

The third try of the game came from a snaffled loose ball that a couple of phases later saw Nelly bundled over for his fourth of the season. Aaron did the honours with the kick and the Meisters could sniff victory. The scent obviously wasn’t to everyone’s liking as Belper managed to play their way into some good positions with last gasp defence from Luke Hoss and Freddie frustrating the home attack.

Derby regained some composure and, as they had all game, played some intelligent pick and drive rugby to manufacture the position for Graham to find a gap and slip over for his second of the afternoon. Aaron converted but that was not to be the last points.

As Belper tried to run from deep in the hope of salvaging something from the game, Gar tackled his opposite number, knocking the ball from his grasp in the process and into the path of the galloping Hoss. He kick it on and dotted down under the sticks, with Aaron’s inevitable conversion making it 31 – 0; ample revenge for the earlier defeat.

It’s fair to say that everyone played their part in a great win with other highlights being the interplay of the pack, the muscular contribution from Chaz in only his second game at scrum half, a sound strategic game from Graham, salmon-like line-out work from Pange and some bustling runs from Bron.

Roll on next week and a trip to Burton who beat us at home by a single point earlier this year. Will the Meisters be able to produce another display to confound the form book, despite the absence of our Runaway Captain (in the film version of this season, the part of Tim Flower will be played by Julia Roberts)?

New research by Nasa has proven that there could be thousands of planets capable of sustaining life within our own Solar System. This is a far cry from the claim by Nasa in the 80’s that it was unlikely to ever find a planet with the same characteristics as Earth. Apparently the new evidence from the new Spitzer Space Telescope looks for objects in the ‘Goldilocks Zone’ an area of space which will support liquid water by having an atmosphere ‘not too hot or not too cold’. The idea that all of the right chemical elements do exist universally but needs the right temperature & gravitational balance for life to evolve, means that we could be only years away from finding extraterrestrial life. Which brings me neatly to this weeks game when West Bridgford travelled light years across the midlands to find that they had, in fact, landed on another planet. This is the same rampant West Bridgford that beat the Meisters 68 – 7 and then beat the Devs 62 – 5. Third in the league behind Newark & Mellish, whilst the Meisters are uncomfortably sat at 8th (out of 10) after finding it difficult to keep form this season.

Having said all that, the team was largely unchanged from previous encounters (West Bridgford readers please check previous reports if you like – you played against Derby 4ths and no one else) with the exception of Capt Bedders – the Quiet Ginger Giant on leave from Iraq, due to go to Afghanistan shortly, but his last game was for the 4ths. Dean had returned on the front row after a long lazy lay off playing American Football, Braddow was also making his monthly appearance and guess what… Yes! Captain Spastic Tim ‘The Brain’ Flower actually turned up to captain his own side for the first time in 3 months after gallivanting around Britain & Europe (weekends only!) The reason for the extra effort? Big Rob Smith’s leaving do. The horrible number 8 solely responsibly for 99.9% of all Fourth team fisticuffs was leaving us to travel with his missus for a year around the Antipodes. What made it all the more special, Bridgford is Rob’s old club.

With the blinding sun in our backs, Bridgford kicks off and immediately the Meisters gain ground after some decent running, but this move breaks down with a simple missed pass. On the back foot, the Meisters have another run at Bridgford only for the ball to come to Dawes who mistakenly believes that last weeks kicking fiasco was a one off. Dawes kicks, gets charged down and West Bridgford run in a try under the posts. 0 – 7 after 10 minutes. This poor start only galvanises the Meisters and they set about Bridgford with a fervour not seen this season. The forwards were awesome, scrapping for the ball and bullying Bridgford at every opportunity. Front row of Dean, Luscombe & Brini lapping up every word in the 1st Team changing room walls that we had occupied… Courage, Passion, Work Ethic, Communication, Support, Thieves-operate-in-this-area…. Foxy & Beddy at second row and Brain, Fordy & Big Rob on the back row were not just hungry for the ball, they wanted Ball Soup followed by Spaghetti Ball-egnese, then Rhu-Ball Crumble & Custard. Bridgford could not get out of their half and sure enough when Dean trundled over the line after a period of sustained pressure and an awesome jinking run from Braddow, the strain started to show. Bridgford got ratty. Even more so when Beddy got the ball and gave one of their smaller forwards a hand off he won’t forget for some time. The Brain was tenacious at Blindside, breaking up a Bridgford scrum that they seemed to protest because it wasn’t going according to plan. Fordy was everywhere, on the occasion that Bridgford threatened to score, he was there to stop it. Bridgford’s backs were ruthlessly organised at our last meeting, but this time they couldn’t get their momentum and mistakes crept in. So they squandered a few opportunities, but when the Meister’s lineouts were so superior, any chance was taken, Gareth coolly struck a penalty to give the Meisters a 10 –7 lead. But then minutes before half time, that man Dean was there again. It was a huge effort that involved most of the team, the ball recycled with no mistakes and excellent support and on about the 7th phase Dean crashed onto the line with an overlap for comfort. 17 – 7.

The most pleasing thing about the 2nd half was that it was more of the same thing. The Meisters didn’t fold. JB came on for Foxy, John Whiting for Luscombe, Reuben for Gar, Pange for Fordy, Fitch for The Brain and each one showed the same fighting spirit & commitment which had no better shining example to follow than Rob Smith who had an awesome 2nd half. To be honest, the half went in a blur – I was under a ruck for most of it and just before Braddow scored I had almost given away a knock on because after following Dean in, I was convinced we were on the try line but it turns out we were miles away, luckily the recycled pass from Cogan meant that Braddow still had time for a neat side step and paso doble that Dancin Dave would have been proud of.

Then Cogan gets injured with 15 minutes left. Finlay drops to 9, Braddow to 10 and we stare down the barrel of a tense & disorganised finale. Sure enough Bridgford score and convert 22 – 14. With renewed energy Bridgford fight their way to our try line and Freddie does a sterling job to kick out under pressure, but it seemed we could only get as far as a 5m lineout time after time. With the minutes ticking by Bridgford get frustrated and when a surge over the line is called back for a 5m scrum, the Ref penalises them for mouthing off, then again for questioning the decision, then again for the abusive reaction, then - my favourite – another 10m because someone shouted “will everyone stop f***ing swearing”. By this time we’re on the halfway line with 3 minutes left to run out a very memorable victory.

There are so many things to savour about this game - JB’s awesome turn at scrum half, Dawes not kicking again, Beddy & Braddow flattening random backs, the effort everyone put in, hearing Bridgford bleat afterwards about how we must’ve had most of our 1st team playing. But favourite moment of the Match has to go to Rob Smith – despite being warned by the ref for a bit of his usual happy slapping – takes down the Bridgford 10 (“I’m not Ginger – It’s Auburn”) and in full sight of the Ref throws in a couple of friendly fist pies right in his Goldilocks Zone for good measure. It’s how he’d like to be remembered.

The resulting celebrations lasted long into the night as we sent Rob off to a distant Galaxy far, far away. Bridgford were Lost in Space and the Meisters were Boldly Going where most good teams have gone before.

As Swiss Tony once said; Winning a game of Rugby is a lot like making Love to a Beautiful Woman…. You got to rough it up front & around the fringes before you can enjoy yourself by tossing it around the backs.

In which case, The Meisters have yet again failed to pull and are going home with just a kebab and, if we’re very lucky, our favourite sock.

Let me make this clear, straight from the start. We lost 5 – 0 at home to Paviors… It was 0 – 0 at half time. Not much you can add to that by way of a match report…The rest is just window dressing.

So the game ended 5 – 0. Although… Derby 1st Team magnificently beat Paviors 1st 27 – 16 … so on aggregate both Derby teams beat Paviors 27 – 21.

Favourite Moment of the Match – The Meisters pack were having a bit of argy bargy with the Paviors pack in a light-hearted-Rob-Smith-smacking-someone-across-the-chops-sort-of-way and Paviors were out to prove something when it came to a 5m scrum on the Derby line. The ball immediately comes out and gets swamped by the back row and any available backs. Derby win the ball and boot to clear after another phase & subsequent turnover. After surfacing from the ruck the sound of organised pushing can be heard over near the touchline, we turn round to see both sets of Front & Second rows still bound in a scrum – locked in battle pushing past the dead ball line – the ball had been cleared at least 30 seconds previous and they failed to notice.

The Meisters aren’t having any luck in a Swiss Tony way, he should have done his maths … if you allow me to demonstrate.
Finding the right woman is a product of Time & Money (Women = Time x Money), but we all know that Time is Money (Time = Money) and also Money is the root of all your problems (Money = √Problems). So:
Women = Time x Money But Time = Money
Therefore; Women = Money x Money so Women = Money ²
But if Money = √Problems Therefore Money² = (√Problems)² = Problems
Which proves … Women = Problems

SO the BIG question this week is… Is it Suth-ell or South-Well?

Being born & raised in Notts I have always called it Suth-ell. Apparently this is supported by the old spelling of the name on Medieval maps ‘Sothwell’ – and understandably, given Notts residents habit of dropping as many consonants as possible in order to talk with the minimum of effort, this evolved into ‘Suthell’. However, Southwell’s not like the rest of Notts… oh no… if I may take a direct quote from Wikipedia “The town is something of an oddity for North Nottinghamshire, being visibly affluent, when compared with its near neighbours of Newark and Mansfield.” What a lovely turn of phrase, if slightly snobby.

Given that Wikipedia is a self editing source, you can guarantee that sentence was written by someone who lives there. So the case for ‘South-Well’ is mainly voiced by its inhabitants. Apparently an older source in French states the village as ‘Sud-Well’ (French for South)… one small fly in the ointment though, they forgot the French for ‘Well’ is ‘Puits’ so it should have been ‘Sud-Puits’ or even ‘Puits du Sud’… and in anycase Sudwell sounds remarkably like how we got to the argument in the first place. Basically, the rule is – for anyone who lives there who likes to be above the rest – It’s South-Well otherwise, it’s Suth-ell…Makes me proud that Derby isn’t really open to interpretation. The whole world knows it’s Dar-bee. (The world famous phrase of two teams playing a ‘Derby’ is reportedly originated from an Ashbourne-Shrovetide-type-football-massacre that used to be played between two teams in Derby in the 1700’s, to which a French onlooker wrote ‘if Englishmen call this sport, it is impossible to say what they call fighting’ – although uninterestingly the Yanks still refer to it as a ‘Dur-bee’)

So, back in the real world, the All New Meisters embark on a nosebleed inducing trip across Notts to Suth-ell, with just 15 men. Being a league fixture we didn’t want to forfeit any points for Uncontested scrums but luckily Ben Harvie, Rob Smith & Brini were all on hand for an experienced front row. Missing out on a No 10 yet again, it was close run thing but Jordan stepped in at the last minute to prevent Dawes making a mess of things. With Greg Sewell from the colts joining Back Row Debuntants Bent-Nosed-Bron & Angry-Pirate-Reuben, the day’s proceedings would be somewhat off the cuff.

Captain Dawes was getting the hang of things by winning the toss and deciding to have the very brisk wind in our backs. The 1^st 5 minutes shows some strong intent from Suth-ell as they advance into the Dar-bee half. Which they capitalise on by scoring after the Ref had showed he wasn’t to be crossed with some strict marching orders that sent the Meisters back 30m for the slightest infringement, Bron not knowing the 10m rule and then the slightest of back chat from Charlie.

Not to be downhearted though, the game plan kicked in, as with a decent restart and subsequent lineout, Suth-ell couldn’t get out of their half for the strong wind. 20 minutes of sustained pressure gained Dar-bee a score via Jordan. A nice break from yet another 5m ruck took him to the line only to be held up in the comedy-Will-Carling-Harlequins-7’s-special-style (One of the funniest things I’ve ever seen - if you’ve never seen it check out http://rugbydump.blogspot.com/2008/01/friday-funnies-will-carlings-episode-of.html), but Jordan acquits himself nicely by calmly waiting just a moment and then wriggling out of his precarious situation and putting the ball down over the line. 5 – 5.

Dar-bee’s 16^th man (The Wind) plays an impressive half as every time Suth-ell kick out under pressure leads to a 5m lineout. There was great play from both sides though, firstly a Crash ball to Dawes on the Suth-ell 5m leaves him with a one on one with the Suth-ell 12 who lines him up, tackles low, lifts Dawes up and runs back with him 5m before support arrives, to his credit Dawes recycled the ball.. albeit 10m behind where he planned. Young Greg Motherlicker has an awesome game and spoils a lot of the fringe play for Suth-ell. Finbar has a kick that looked very long but very in touch until it bounced out at the last second – of course he claimed it was deliberate. On the occasion that Suth-ell made it within Dar-bee’s 22m Rob Smith lost the ball to the Ref under some spurious reason and they advanced to our 5m with an almost certain try on the cards, but Rob was so enraged that he threw every sinew into getting the ball back and prevented the attack. However, eventually Suth-ell gain a penalty. But with Dar-bee gaining the upper hand in territorial advantage and the forwards scrums really performing well, it seemed confidence was on the up. Jordan orders Skelton (right wing) to join I’Anson (left wing) for an almighty overlap. You could sense the confusion (I’Anson sending Skelton back) but when play starts he settles for the middle of the line. With a potential hole that a turnover could walk through Dawes takes the initiative. Instead of the planned crash ball, Dawes yells blindside! Suth-ell sensing the trap throw their 10 & 12 round the scrum for cover… but Jordan had still planned on the crash ball and so was presented with a hole the size of Nelly’s Pants. It must have looked the most contrived backs move ever, but it was just plain confusion on both sides that allows Jordan to stroll through and convert leaving Dar-bee 12 – 8 up at half time. 

The second half was tough. There were two major incidents that went against Dar-bee. 1) The wind sneakily changed allegiances  2) Nelly got injured, went off and we were down to 14 men. It never looked good from then on in, being camped in our 22m for most of the half. There was some light though, Dawes’ cheeky punts put Suth-ell on the back foot. Walton & Gar performing some awesome try saving tackles from the rare moves that the Suth-ell backs didn’t drop. Bent-Nosed-Bron taking to flanker like a duck to orange. The Suth-ell Crowd were growing restless at the lack of a score and start hurling abuse - claiming we had committed some nefarious act involving Sheep. Yeah, well, I suppose it seemed at the time they were the Sheep in question. It really looked like Suth-ell didn’t want to win, they couldn’t get their act together. Then the replacements came on and made all the difference against our 7 man scrum.

In the last 5 minutes, Suth-ell score a well earned try and converts 15 – 12. Dar-bee have it all to do. The only chance came when Ben Harvie steals the ball at half way and marches up to their 22m… but lack of support leaves him exposed and he is penalised for holding on. Suth-ell hold out and you could tell it meant a lot to them by their reaction at the final whistle.

There’s a few ‘If only’s’… for example a replacement in the form of Flower would have been nice but he was resting himself for his subsequent Skiing Trip the following day (although Nelly is on the same trip and a self confessed 50% Nelly is better than No Nelly at all). Man of the Match has to go to Jordan who scored all the points and seeing as though he’s a prop, he doesn’t half love playing 10 for the 4ths. Thanks a lot Jordan. Special mention to the Front Five who were as solid as I’ve seen them and to Greg, Bron & Reuben who played out of their skins, out of position.

We had a nice chin wag after the game and an awesome Sausage & Mash which set itself apart from the usual post match scran. After all that, I think I agree with Wikipedia, I quite like Southwell.

Existentialism does not exist. It is a self fulfilling prophecy that disregards the traditional ideals that bind our lives together (like we live, breath, eat, think and move for example) Existentialism claims that we do none of these things because our consciousness is aware of them and we are only truly free if we unlock our subconscious being. It is best described as living in a virtual reality you think of as real life and then discovering you can unplug yourself and walk off to play something else. This was described in the opening line to ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ and explored & popularised by films such as Bladerunner, Lawnmower Man, eXistenZ, Tron, The Truman Show and, of course, spectacularly cocked up in The Matrix Trilogy.

Now then, all that aside, if we are hypothesizing that the real world is a sham, you have then got to prove something that doesn’t exist – like Santa or Gary’s Mam’s Caravan. We all know it’s true so why bother proving it. As beautifully put by David Brent, ‘Cogito Ergo Sum’ – ‘I think therefore I am’. Such realism disproves the need for Existentialism.

Which brings me neatly to this weeks match against Ashbourne IV’s. (I hear the sounds of heads being scratched but bear with me). As we know, the Meisters have had players missing this season, but carried on regardless and are now embarking on a metamorphosis. At the end of Matlock III’s report I banged on about 15 or so players being absent and how the Meisters performances vary. Well that’s all well and good, but if we’re not the original Meisters – who are we? How can any team be known by just it’s name / history when the players change wholesale? Is there a potion you drink that makes you part of that team? Does the essence of the Team physically exist in some virtual world? Nope. It doesn’t. Cogito Ergo Sum.

However. On Saturday, The Meisters turned up to play against Ashbourne IV’s in a scene reminiscent of Ingmar Bergman’s Seventh Seal. Ashbourne turned up without a front row at all and only 12 players. Nelly & Walton jumped ship and put on the stripy Ashbourne sweater.

The team consisted of Front Row - Sandy, Nelly, Luscombe, 2nd Row Foxy & Newboy Michael Skelton, Back Row – Fordy, Rob J & another newboy John Davies. The back were 9 – Finlay, 10 Yet Another Newboy Craig , 12 Dawes, 13 Braddow, Wingers Gary & Reuben & Fullback Freddie.

The game kicked off with uncontested scrums. The Meisters forwards play was solid (obviously because there was uncontested scrums!) Which enabled quick ball out to Craig who played havoc with his organised attacks. One such move takes the Meisters up to the Ashbourne 5m line, looking threatening the backs line up their move, but are spectacularly surprised by Finbar’s blindside dash to unleash the power of the only man on the pitch destined to score in an existential way, but not in a realistic way. Gary was clattered off the ball with ease. Moment lost, Ashbourne Lineout. The resulting throw was stolen by John Davies at 8 and wiggled his way out of a tackle to pass to Dawes who took the ball into a ruck with the Ashbourne forwards…namely Nelly & Charlie. Instead of being held up though, Dawes peels off with the ruck in toe and splashes over the try line before being landed on by Nelly et al. Under the ruck, with Dawes already celebrating, Nelly bear hugs Dawes to try and wrestle the ball away whilst shouting to Sir ‘I’ve got the ball, he held up sir!’. Gwent, who is an ex Meisters and ex Tourist and I’ve got a lot of respect for him, agrees with Nelly. You complete loser, Gwent! So in a truly existential way Dawes scores, but apart from the realistic cheating by the fat bloater Nelly… didn’t. 0 - 0 (However, Dawes 6 – I’Anson 1).

All was not lost though, because such was the way Craig was whipping the Meisters backs into shape, Braddow soon was boshing his way over the line after a well worked DSP for his first appearance & score for months. Finlay goes to convert but was spectacularly put off by the charging cheating man mountain, Nelly, screaming his head off. Not sure if that’s gentlemanly conduct but it was quite funny. 5 – 0.

Soon after Sandy gets a nasty boot to the eye and goes off. The following reorganisation brings Nelly back to the Meisters. Freddie was having an awesome game and proving why Gary should never be full back whilst Freddie’s around. He would catch high kicks, dodge & run through the attack or punt one back to Ashbourne. Even Skelton had a go in his first game, proving that he really wasn’t a 2nd rower and should be out in the backs. Ashbourne’s sensible play though made it tough, but they were stopped around the loose ball by some awesome play from the Meisters back Row. John Davies in particular having a storming game and looking like he was enjoying it.

Deep in the 1st half, Craig pegs Ashbourne back with some cruel kicking, they take a quick line out, but Dawes piles in and luckily comes away with the ball, recycles it and it comes out to Finlay who jiggles one over the line to leave it 12 – 0 at half time.

In the 2nd half Ashbourne come out of the blocks quicker & hungrier for the ball, leaving some resolute defending to be done. This leads to a soft try after Dawes & Craig let though their No 9 under the posts. 12 – 7.

The Meisters regroup though and Nelly was at his fiercest when he took a run with the ball for probably the longest he’s ever run in his life. The only reason it came off was he saw Charlie Walton in front and trounced him before a gap opened up before him like the Red Sea. He was eventually brought down like a pack of lions wrestling a massive Double McLion Burger Meal to the floor. Foxy then takes the ball on out of nowhere and runs past the defence through the 22m, up to 5m… looks for support and is brought down by the fullback. Honestly, he was so close. Charlie Walton then gets his own back on Nelly by clattering him in the head, but finds out he missed when Nelly trots off leaving a floored Dawes and a smiling Walton. Reuben takes a ball in growling and superbly, pops it to Fordy, who slips it out to Dawes who only has the full back to beat. Bosh. 17 – 7. (Dawes 7 – I’Anson 1).

The final moments of the half have yet another ball being won around the fringes, spun out to the backs, Dawes takes in the tackle and repays the compliment as he pops it to Fordy who runs in a try. 22 – 7.

Special Mention must go to Rob Jennings who ran tirelessly around the pitch despite being pinged 3 times for offside and to Craig who gloriously sliced open the Ashbourne defence with a double dummy that Dave Richards would have been proud of.
This was an enjoyable match. Realistically, the uncontested scrums made it easier. But this was The Meisters but not really the Meisters if you get my meaning. If not, then don’t worry, if you weren’t there, it didn’t happen.

Upon accepting the role of Captain of the Meisters, I was handed 3 white envelopes, which said “For the Next Captain of the Meisters – to be opened only in times of crisis”. So I kept them in my pocket for the Match against Matlock last week, but such was the 2nd half effort and ultimate victory that they remained intact in my pocket. This week’s match against Belper II’s was a familiar affair, we’ve met at least 6 times in the past few seasons, a few months ago we saw them off 28 – 22 with the aid of Norm, Batesy & Charlie the Tiny Scrumhalf – Gary was away. The previous seasons matches, we won comfortably 40 – 0 and 57 - 10 with Louis “The-most-dangerous-person-on-the-field-to-quote-the-1st-team-match-report-v-Matlock-this-week-but-just-remember-where-he-learned-his-trade-yes-that’s-right-The-Meisters” Gandolfo, and of course, who could forget Jim “I-scored-an-awesome-try-that-never-was-because-my-shorts-fell-down-and-tripped-me-up” Smith. Strangely, or perhaps, prophetically, Gary was absent for those victories also.

The soul of the team was unchanged from last week. So with a bright sun, low in the sky, Dawes wins the toss, has the sun in our backs and off we go. The 1st 5 phases were disciplined; we edged up the field gaining yards through recycling and decent handling. Upon reaching their 22m, we lost possession and the resulting punt pegged us back deep into our half. It was then things turned bad, Belper’s front row had genetically modified necks. In fact, it was just one huge person with three heads. Our scrum went back & back. Rob Smith at 8 did his best to pick up run; this time there was plenty of support. Probably a bit too much support, however, because at the breakdown possession was lost and when Belper scored all the Meisters were on the one side of the pitch… apart from Nelly… who did his best, but to be honest Nelly trying to catch their fullback was like watching a dolphin being chased through water by a JCB.

Belper’s second came from a pushover scrum shortly afterwards. I reached inside my pocket, wondering if I’d need to open an envelope… No, have faith - I thought – we came back against Matlock. Sure enough, Rob Smith smashed though the defence racing towards the line, offloaded to Cogan who was superbly placed in support to score between the posts. Arran converted, and after both Belper’s kicks had missed, left us trailing 10 – 7 at half time.

We could do this – was the general consensus and the optimistic team talk lead us skipping back onto the pitch with the sun now dropping behind the hills. In the 1st minute, the Meister have a run, Dawes sees a gap and kicks through the line for a chase. However, their 15 picks it up on their 22m and sidesteps Dawes, runs through Walton, on for 30m and then up steps Gary at Fullback, his beedy eye lining him up for a try saving tackle….. needless to say, he puts it down between the posts and converts it before Gary has time to claim the sun was in his eyes. 17 – 7.

I open the first envelope and look down. It says, “Blame the Fullback”. Awesome. Gary you were about as useful as the time Olaf The Hairy Viking ordered 20,000 battle helmets with the horns on the inside. He knocked on three high kicks when One Eyed Pete would have caught them, he kicked out on the full - losing valuable territory and spectacularly missed a catch that he somehow managed to slip, hitting the ball with his feet into Belper’s waiting hands.

The next 20 minutes we might as well have been blindfolded. We never made it out of our half, several crucial tackles were missed and Belper scored very soft tries. We were making them look SO good. I opened the second envelope, it read, “Blame the Club Structure”. Tim Flower - I hold you personally responsible for this performance, because you have not represented the needs of the Meisters adequately, you have personally not made any efforts within to the club to aid our cause, you’re a rubbish public speaker and your spreadsheets are rubbish. Buck up Fat Boy.

In the dying minutes, you could tell our heads were down. There was a lot of passion though, their number 12 was proving what it’s like when Footballers try to play Rugby, he hated being beaten and given Big Rob & Bron in his face, he lashed out and broke Bron’s nose. The ref didn’t see it though and Bron went off with blood streaming down his face. The resultant scrum gave Belper their last try from a Bron sized gap on the blindside, that Dawes failed to plug. The whistle blew and we had lost miserably 38 – 7. I reached inside my pocket for the final envelope, hoping for some words of wisdom, as I couldn’t look my team in the eye and say anything. I looked down, it read “Write three new envelopes”.

This match report is brought to you by the letters ‘I.E’. – ‘Id Est’ Latin for ‘That is’.

The continuing chronicles of the fates of the Meisters, recorded here for prosperity, have been an ancient Greek tragedy (ie lamentable) a Shakespearean comedy (ie not funny) an episode of Family Guy (ie very funny) a chapter of Truman Capote (ie witheringly scathing) and with equal measures of G.W Bush & Stephen Fry (ie low/high brow) thrown in for good measure.

Today’s match away to Matlock III’s deserves a classic tome in memorial (ie none of the usual unrelated, unrelenting, literary flannel), but the comparisons from the last match back in September, are just contradictory. Familiarly different.

The last match heralded a turning point in the Meisters fortunes, it was our last league win, also the last game Dancing Dave Richards & Luke Horsfield played for us, both of whom have been a great loss. Nelly scored his hat trick in the doggy themed match report. Nelly was a spectator today and Flower was still absent, this time the deputy’s badge fell to Dawes as the Barking Mad Sheriff was called up for the II’s. The fourths were supplemented with Sandy, Gareth Cogan, Angry Ackers and Mark in from the Devs. Dawes first game in charge for the Meisters against a rain swept Tamworth brought his first instinctive decision – to call it off and spend the afternoon in the warmth watching the Heineken Cup. This time there was a game to be won.

The first half was tough going. Nelly, watching from the sidelines, was wincing at the lacklustre tackling and dropped balls (ie Dawes) Matlock’s scrum was forceful. Their Number 10 was running the show and almost scored with Matlock’s first move, gliding between Finlay at 10 and Dawes at 12, (ie like he was being tackled by a thick mist) Only I’Anson & Reuben covering stopped the attack. Inevitably though, the breakthrough came when Matlock eased past the failing Meisters scrum and converted 7 – 0 to the home side. Nobody was breaking sweat, Matlock were doing all the work and getting most of the ball. Big Rob Smith was the lone ranger, defiant at 8 taking the ball from the backwards scrum and handing off anyone in his way, however he became isolated all to soon and was either pinged for holding on or turned over. Matlock soon used this to their advantage and, despite missing a penalty kick, gained an unconverted try 12 – 0. Cogan’s performance was hampered by the lack of communication from anyone wishing to take the ball on. There was some light though, an awesome piece of defence by New boy Bron held the ball up on the line and prevented a try and there was some fine kicking from Finlay to get us out of the tight spots. The half was summed up in the dying minutes with the Meisters, looking to capitalise on Rob’s break at a ruck on the Matlock 22m, squandered the opportunity with Finlay out of position, the ball came out to an unsuspecting Dawes who knocked on. The half time talk was brisk but positive – if we could change one thing, we needed to support each other. (ie The buck stops here, our screw-ups were not going to happen again).

Ackers came on for an injured Pat Fitch (ie with his third dislocated shoulder on the season) and Mark on for Rob J. The second half started and you could visibly see the difference, Arran catching and was instantly swamped with support. The ball came out with Ackers charging through the Matlock forwards. Cogan recycled with Big Rob calling for the crash ball, through the Matlock 22 and Cogan recycles again to Finlay, who takes the tackler on before looping it over to Dawes, with I’Anson & Bron on the overlap, Dawes selfishly puts his demons away by taking the ball in through two defenders, out the other side with 5m to go and puts down on the line under the posts for the Meisters first score, Cogan converts 12 – 7. (ie Dawes 5 - I’Anson 1)

From the restart, The Meisters were at it again, Sandy caught the ball and was pleasantly stamped on by the recalcitrant Matlock forwards – the payback came in the form of Ackers and Co (ie via the medium of brute force). There was a bit of kick tennis between Freddie at full back and their 15, which Arran soon put a stop to by taking the ball and gloriously handing off their number 6 so effectively that the last thing that went through his mind was his nostrils. You ought to have seen his little pug faced expression, ‘I’m gonna kill you’ he said as the Ref told him to cool down. He obviously meant it though, because he said it again with a few expletives for good measure and was promptly marched to the touchline for 10 minutes (where Nelly spent the whole time winding him up).

Dawes made amends for his poor tackling in the 2^nd half by nailing the miniscule Matlock 9 and throwing him to the floor (ie good old fashioned school bully tactics, take it out on someone smaller) and then by throwing himself into every Matlock move. Matlock were starting to get rattled, their backs were kicking everything to get out of trouble and their forwards were tiring and getting ratty.

Finlay then inspiringly took the ball on a mazy run from 30m out and scored an awesome try under the posts after out dodging most of their backs (and a few of ours) Rattle resolutely inside the pram and being waved under Matlock’s noses. 12 – 14 and with more to come as after the restart, the Penalties came thick and fast, allowing the Meisters to march up the field and tactically stretch their lead 12 – 17.

One of the rare occasions that Matlock made it into our half, resulted in a missed penalty and a rejuvenated Meisters took the advantage in the last moments of the game. Colin Luscombe was off on a tenacious run, Sandy put himself on the line for yet another shoe-ing. Ackers, Mark, Slacky, Foxy & Arran were following every move around the field and were first to the breakdown. Matlock were out played & out classed.

Dawes had a break through the defence, but was ankle-tapped by the No 12 (who I’m sure played for Burton – I recognised that beer belly anywhere), however, Dawes atypically managed to pass over to Bron who ran on down the wing with 2 defenders clinging on for the ride. The Big Ginger Oaf almost made it for a try but was put out of touch. The Meisters soon regained the ball though, Reuben bursting through for his usual bit of Angry Pirating, kicked & chased but was just pipped to the post by the retreating defence (he would have made it if he was 5ft 2… ie 6in taller). However, a deserved try for Big Rob Smith after a blind side scrum breakout rounded off an excellent 2^nd half performance. 12 – 24.

A fine performance, one that deserves a quality match report (ie about the actual match) The same but different, not wishing to go on about it too much – we are missing long term - Dave Richards, Scott J, Davy, Booya, Jesus, Cavey, Gandolfo, Griz, Brini, Horsfield and short term - Sheriff, Flower, Walton, Wisey, Pange, & Fordy as regular 4^th players (ie a worthy 1^st 15 Meisters team) and yet we still gave a performance like last years team.

Man of the Match must go to Big Rob Smith for an inspiring performance despite being spit roasted by a fibre optic camera the day before and special mention goes to the Spiritual Meister that is Jody Else who got married on Friday and at 4am Sat morning was personally responsible for most of the absentees. (ie It was a quality do, Jody.)

Evidence has been found that secret underground granite radiation is the cause of mass stupidity and moronic behaviour for residents of the same area over the years. Scientists have named the Phenomena as the “Hartlepool Effect”.

The people of Hartlepool found a Monkey washed up after a shipwreck during the Napoleonic War, thinking it was a French spy - tried it & sentenced it to death by hanging.

John Darwin of Hartlepool, famously turned up in November, 5 years after faking his own death, claiming the insurance and living with his wife in Panama, completely unknown to his sons.

Jenny Marsey of Hartlepool saved her home from burning down last week, when her frying pan caught fire by throwing her size 22 knickers on the pan, which doused the flames. Although, initially praised by fire fighters for saving the family home, she was swiftly arrested for gross indecency.

Gary I’Anson of Hartlepool, added to the ever-growing list of disappointing national sporting under achievers in June, after claiming to be the best talent in ‘Currency Concealment’ and was exposed as a sham when beaten in the first round by Holland’s Mr Calzagie after his foreskin only managed to hold 29 euros compared to Calzagie’s 38. Mr Calzagie Snr, the champs father, coach and business manager said, ‘My boy can do anything’ (to which JT promptly offered a Slap Box challenge and won). I’Anson, who blamed the failure on the wrong trousers, said, “I don’t know why people are so upset, It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever done, like...”

The Hartlepool Effect was raising its ugly head yet again, as Derby IV’s met Derby III’s in the ‘Let’s pretend we can play Rugby’ Challenge Cup, to which the winners gain the title of “2^nd Most Talentless Team in the club”. The event was especially marked with the inclusion of the winner of this years ‘Best Ever Referee’ who happened to also be assessed from the stand. The game kicked off and Ref blew immediately as the III’s taunted the IV’s for “being too short” and the IV’s responded via the international language of the fist. As the RFU ruling allows only one Ginger on the pitch at one particular time, the Ref issued a plethora of cards to suit the occasion. The remaining game was camped in the IV’s 22 as wave after wave of attack was laughably squandered by the III’s.

The IV’s defence was just as impressive as their own chance of not scoring. The III’s defence was stretched to it’s limit (i.e. not very far) whilst their Backs displayed a masterclass in dropping the ball. It must have been great to watch. (In the final stages of the game even that became difficult as the Ref played on in the dark.) As the full time whistle blew both sides had no scores. 

Unlike last years both titanic & epic fixtures between The Vets & The Meisters where singing was heard from both teams, there were no post match celebrations. 

PS. The referee decided to add 40 minutes extra time (also known as the 2^nd half) in which the III’s scraped a victory 22 – 0 all scored by Nathan… who plays for the IV’s.

True story found in my ‘Book of Lists’ under heading of ‘World’s Worst…’

Convict Byron Perkins from Louisville, Kentucky has been dubbed "the worst dad in the world".  He persuaded US prison chiefs to let him out to donate a kidney to save his dying son. But instead of heading for hospital, he fled to Mexico with a girlfriend.

And he didn't even check to see if his teenage son was going to survive.

Now he's been arrested after more than a year on the run. Son Destin, 17, said "It's not something I'm ever going to forget." Luckily, while Byron was on the run, an anonymous donor came forward and saved Destin. But nobody is likely to be able to save Byron… from hell.

A few paragraphs later - “The World’s Worst Deputy Captain.” Derby IV’s met Ashbourne IV’s in a friendly on Saturday, erstwhile Captain Tim ‘The Brain’ Flower was again being questioned by the authorities for his alleged involvement in staring at children at his nephews birthday party, meanwhile as Sherrif was away at a marriage counselling weekend, the stewardship of Deputy fell to his “trusty friend” Gary I’Anson. The day started badly when, after meeting up at Haslams, Gary had no idea who would turn up – even though he had a list in front of him – leaving for Ashbourne with 8 players hoping the rest would just turn up at some point. Luckily for Gary, The Ashbourne Trio of JB, Fordy & Slacky came down from the hills, sheep under their arms, ready to play. Glover’s game was cancelled and felt motivated enough to put one over his old school mates, Big Rob Smith was found in the land of the living and showed his face - also Nathan was out shopping, happened to have his kit and joined us. Tim Flower was released with a caution, a balloon and a slice of cake. There was also a nice selection of scarves on show as Dawes, Louis & Freddie did their best Dead Poets Society impression. We all gathered in the changing rooms keen to warm up, Arran (as in sweater, not Elvis) went to practice his kicking and discovered Gary had forgot to bring the ball, so he asked to borrow one from some nice young ladies. Rob Jennings volunteered to fill the water bottles… only to find, Gary hadn’t brought any. Hmm, not a good start. It was at this point that Gary asked Nelly to take him back to Derby to pick up the kit. Yes, Gary’s defence was ‘Well, to be fair, Tim didn’t ask me to pick it up..!’ Which only makes us doubly pleased that Dawes put the sign above Gary’s bed reading “Put pants on and then Trousers”. Toying with the idea of playing in skins, we decided to wait. Nelly nearly didn’t make it out of the car park, circling doughnuts in the mud dangerously close to a Vauxhall Astra.

An hour later, we kicked off. Gary’s inept Deputising skills now in full flow as he asked Rob Smith – jointly with Nathan the most argumentative & violent individuals present - to be captain on the pitch. Well, when I say pitch, the rain had certainly made it challenging. Why is the weather in Ashbourne like an Iraqi Muslem? Either Sunni or Shi’ite.

With a full strength pack, young Tizard at 9, Finbar Saunders at 10 and Louis at 15 - The Meisters began to look like their old selves, excellent handling & carrying from the pack gave a calm platform for the backs. The breakthrough came when Louis had ran three quarters of the pitch, passed it over to the only person close to him…. Flower  - who then rolled over the line with the help of Rob, Dawes & Glover. Louis converted 7 – 0. The pack was winning and Fordy was having storming runs following a rare Dawes move and taking the ball up field. Occasionally the exuberance got the better of us and runners were isolated and lost the ball. (Or in Dawes case flounderingly killing the ball and giving a penalty away). Louis was having a storming game as Ashbourne’s game play was to boot everything they had into space, he swiftly picked it up and dodged, twisted & evaded like Flower sweating under interrogation. A ruck on Ashbourne’s 5m popped the ball out to Nathan who, after taking the tackler, neatly popped the ball out to Deputy Dawg I’Anson flying in on the wing. No sooner had The Spanner crossed the line, he dropped it like Penguin dropping Steve MacClaren’s book deal. Somebody was going to get the ‘Private-Pyle-soap-in-a-towel’ treatment tonight. In the second half, Louis annoyed Ashbourne even more and got himself a well deserved try. Glover boshed one in over the line after treading all over his old Games Master – you should have seen his face light up… like a massive glowing pumpkin. Alex Tizard expertly took the ball from a penalty and ran through Ashbourne for a try. Arran had come on and yet again impressed with consistent conversions. The crowning glory for Gary’s day came after Reuben the Angry Pirate took the ball on a run down the wing, thinking he was on his own, expertly shielded the ball in a tackle, only to hear Dawes shouting for the pop, the pass was timed to perfection and Dawes had only two defenders & 10m to the line, handing off the first, he heard a moaning, mumbling, dawdling, drooling call - turned to see I’Anson coming in as cover… sod that, Dawes took the ball in and dived for the line - in like Flint and making it 4 –1 to Dawes v I’Anson for the season. I’Anson later confided that it was a good job Dawes didn’t pass, as at that exact moment he had slipped on his ass – the ball would’ve gone over his head and he would never have lived it down.

A great team effort, Nelly playing better each game and looking unstoppable getting up to speed, Colin Luscombe effortlessly supporting around the pitch, Nathan just awesome up front, Slacky tenacious, JB owns the ball and tackles bulls for a living, Glover… we just don’t know how good he is, Fordy runs down wildebeest for a hobby, Rob J getting better each game – proving his tackling credentials with a nasty split ear needing stitches that he shrugged off, Arran doesn’t stop around the fringe and now Number One Meisters Kicker, Flower loves grabbing young mens legs, Tizard was a tiger, Finbar had some awesome kick & chases and didn’t argue once!

(I would go on to mention everybody in the team, but I booze between playing and writing…the memory seems to just slip away).

At the end of the day, we all met up at the Legion for a beer & a chin wag with Ashbourne…all except for I’Anson who slinked off and shirked his responsibility yet again by asking Reuben to collect the match fees and select Ashbourne’s man of the match. Some might say that Delegation is the key to effective management, which would be fine, if Gary was an effective Manager. We know the truth – Gary’s the booky’s favourite to take the England Job.

I’m often asked where I get the snippets of fact / trivia / web-of-lies that I use as inspiration and hence the opening gambit for these match reports. The answer is the match itself, after the weekend’s frivolities I look back on the match and try to summarise the essence of the match, via the medium of the written word, embellished with a point of interest, plucked from the ether, that might create an environment of enlightenment, education & enjoyment. I treat them as children who need to be nurtured and polished. Not content with sitting on past laurels, but always searching, hungry for more….If our games are likened to school children in class, then Saturday’s match against Burton is the fat, freckled, ginger, asthmatic one, who’s allergic to grass, medically excused from games, sat at the back with his Burberry Baseball cap on, one hand in the air, the other up his nose, asking “Miss, do ah need uh pensul vis lessun?”

So, this character (let’s call him Barry) can take over the match report…. Right, we met up, right, and like Sheriff talked about his Missus, right and we went outside, right and played touch for a bit. Then Burton, like, came out and the match started, right, but I cudn’t be bovered, right, cos it was, like, SO cold and Kev sez he had some bangin’ tunes for me to ‘ear laters and like, I woz finkin of that when they scored. I was well miffed, so a battered ‘em but the ref told me off like, so I sed ‘Hang on Ref, you is well out of order’ but he didn’t listen, so I sez ‘why bovver?’ so I didn’t. It woz well rubbish anyways.

Thank you, Barry. How eloquent. He seems to have missed a few points. Despite being quite motivated for the game, the scrums and lineouts were pathetic. Burton pushed us off the ball with ridiculous ease. On hindsight, as Big Rob Smith was doing a dodge, Burton loaned us a prop, he might have been rubbish, who knows, it was clear that Nelly & Luscombe didn’t make up for the shortfall, even Cavey on loan from the twos & Wisey returning in the 2^nd row didn’t either as did Aaron, Fordy &  Sherrif on the back row. It was a Shambles. We sat in our own 22m for the first 20 minutes letting Burton score and get the better of us. When the ball did come out via young Tizzard at 9 to Graham at 10, it didn’t fare much better. That was about as far as the move went. The only brief respite from ‘Barry’ came in the gleaming form of a rejuvenated Gary I’Anson who had an awesome game. Firstly, a charge down in their 22m after a Louis ‘I-was-picked-for-the-firsts-but-I’m-an-idiot-who’s-still-registered-for-the-Uni-so-can’t-play’ Gandolfo break that came so close. Gary deserved to go on to lessen the Dawes-I’Anson deficit but Cavey followed in for a 1m charge down to score. Aaron converted 7 – 5. Gary also had a nice Chip & Run, which led to the penalty that Aaron converted to put us 10 – 8 up at half time.

The second half is where Barry ran riot…. Get lost, man. It wasn’t my fault.  You lot were rubbish… No Barry, you’re missing the point, you’re meant to represent the spirit of the game….. No way, man I ain’t no spirit. I don’t even like cabbage... Spirit, Barry, not Spinach. Oh, forget it. For 39 minutes, Barry carried on arguing, dropping balls, fighting with the opposition, the Ref, the crowd & his teammates…. No, you’re wrong, like coz I know for certain it wasn’t me coz Graham did most of the arguing, even when the Ref was on your side he argued… ah, So you were there, then Barry?… No but… yeah but…shuttup…

Every time we made a break, Burton would simply pick the ball up and run through us. We squandered so many plays it was a joke. Burton added a penalty and what followed was a thoroughly deflated & frustratingly uninspiring half in which the backs were crying out for a run against what looked to me the most out of shape outside centre I have ever seen, plus the fact Burton’s capable number 10 was crocked and dropped to a limping full back, their tenacious number 9 got sin binned… everything was crying out for a well worked move. But all we got was tantrums & tardiness… The final minute was the chance for redemption, Louis got the ball, switched inside and ran, boshed their winger with a hand off and ran the full length of the pitch. God only knows how they caught him, but they did on their 5m, Gary took the ball in but the defence had regrouped. We had at least 5 phases trying to get through when they killed the ball. A penalty, we hoped…. nope, full time. The Referee was Tosh.

A few weeks ago, I lamented how embarrassingly we played against West Bridgeford. The truth is a far better team outclassed us. This time we lost to (with respect) a team we should have beaten and I’m too angry to not mention the poor attitude, lack of mental stamina and terrible handling skills we demonstrated – so in that respect we were beaten by a much better team. Things look decidedly ‘wobbly’ in the Meisters camp.

Yeah but, apart from that we all played well…No Barry, we didn’t play well that was the point… but you said you always have to end with “we all played well”, are you a liar?…Barry, let’s discuss this outside, if you can make it through the door…Are you dissin’ me? You lank haired fantasist…

Who would you say is the most destructive human being in the history of the world? Must be some Burger-Eating-Invasion-Monkey like Bush? Maybe some old school dictator like Hitler or Stalin? Nope, it is officially Thomas Midgley Jnr, an American (what a surprise) Chemist & Inventor. He didn’t like the way his car engine knocked so he set about adding chemicals to petrol until it stopped. He went through the entire Periodic Table until he got to Lead (Pb) and got the desired effect. As a result, millions of tons of harmful gaseous lead was released into the world’s atmosphere over the next 50 years until it was banned in the 70’s, research has since proved links from lead in the womb to schizophrenia and epilepsy. Not satisfied with that, Thomas Midgley Jnr set about inventing a new ‘non-toxic’ chemical refrigerant he called Freon, which would revolutionise household appliances, in particular fridges and aerosols. Yep, our Thomas invented CFC’s and in turn destroyed the world’s ozone layer.  He continued this well meaning but accident-prone existence until his death in 1944, when he invented an early form of mechanical bed, using a series of pullies and cables and accidentally strangled himself.

If you had the power of hindsight, you’d have taken the chemistry set away from the child Midgley and given him a paintbrush. It was using this incredible power of foresight that The Meisters relieved themselves of their very own Human Disaster. With Gary safely stored away on the Fun Bus to Northampton with the II’s, the Meisters gathered the troops against Belper II’s. The Vets game cancelled, Batesy & Norm returned to their spiritual home and with Sheriff back in charge for the absent Flower, who according to the talk in the changing room is in Tenerife getting engaged, Congratulations Flower. (Well…repetition of Trumours eventually worked for Jody).

Sheriff obviously enjoys his Saturday’s with the Meisters, they’re the highlight of his week. This one started in fine form when a new recruit marched into Haslems and asked the barmaid, “I’m looking for The Sheriff.” You should have seen his little face light up. The pre-match team talk was… enlightening… and closely resembled a Jeremy Kyle episode “I’ve had a sh*te week at work and I fell out with the nagging missus last night…let’s play Rugby”, Sheriff seemed to say. Whilst waiting for the ref to turn up, the remaining 10 minutes we all enjoyed Sheriff backtracking, desperately trying to qualify his statement.

The game kicked off and Belper applied the pressure, with the Meisters camped in their own half a very messy game seemed on the cards. Both Norm at 9 & Finlay at 10 deserved a visit to the clinic… they did not have clean balls. Eventually, Belper scored. Then a scrum at the halfway line allowed the Meisters to hit back with the help of Finbar’s jive lessons coming to fruition. A little jiving jiggle of the hips was enough to make the ladies swoon and he was through the defensive line, belting down field with the backs in support, he dummied to the left, then turned to pop a perfect pass over to the lurking Lank Haired Fantasist, Dawes, at the 5m line, who gratefully received, made light work of the remaining defender like a long blond Errol Flynn and popped it down beside the posts. The ozone layer over Northampton was obliterated at that exact moment, as poisonous gases seeped from Gary’s acrid breath at the realisation he was 3 – 1 down with no hope of touching the ball today. Aaron converted with menacing accuracy.

Belper hit back almost immediately with a well worked move around the blindside of the scrum, but yet again failed to convert. 7 – 10 to Belper. Their 9 & 10 were looking particularly useful, but Derby’s scrum & lineouts excelled, to even things out. It was off the back of a Derby scrum pushing forward at the halfway line that Norm took the ball and ran… and ran, the odd ‘ole’ or two and he was clear. With Dawes chasing in support, desperate for Norm’s scraps, the old legs thought about passing, but with the defence melting away, Norm deservedly put it down. Yet again Aaron doing his ‘St Paul-on-the-road-to-Damascus’ and converting all in his path. 14 – 10 to Derby. Belper were equal to us though, every time we thought we were getting away, they would fight back. 14 – 15 at half time, Charlie ‘Der-de-le-der’ Walton came off, bringing Charlie ‘The-smallest-scrum-half-I-have-ever-seen’ from the Colts, and Norm moved into the Centres with Dawes. This seemed to re-energize the Meisters as they started to get the better of the Belper backs, however, the forwards with Batesy, Slacky, Fordy, Nelly and Sheriff in particular having an awesome game. Two quick tries by the Meisters looked like putting the game out of reach. The 2^nd being a master class of support. Defending deep after a Belper break, Dawes & Jesus bring down the attack and recycle the ball, Nelly takes it on a run through the ranks, pops it to Fordy who swiftly slides it along to Matt the Colt on the wing, an awesome piece of running from the halfway line and Aaron’s neat conversions sees The Meisters 28 –15 up with 15 minutes to go.

Belper were not done yet though, and a late try & conversion gave them all the encouragement they needed. Some stout defending kept them out though and when the Ref signalled the last phase of play, the Meisters knew they were home. However, it’s not all that simple. A ruck on the Derby 5m line was spoiled & turned over by Dawes & Batesy. Batesy being the one to pick up the ball thought (correctly) that in the circumstances a swift boot to touch will do the job. The ball left Batesy’s boot sliced behind us, bounced behind the try line, dangerously close to their tiny, but speedy winger (who looked 8 yrs old). The Meisters hurriedly put the ball out but were penalised for throwing it to touch. So a penalty on the 5m line could’ve have made things very difficult. It didn’t, The Meisters saw the game out.

Man of the Match for me was Aaron who made all the difference with 4 conversions.

It was a good day for Derby. The 1^st team won, the Dev’s won, The Meisters won… the II’s mysteriously lost – no comment on the impact of the Bermuda Triangle that is Gary’s pants.

With a Pennant League record reading Won 1, Drawn 1, Lost 3, the Meisters were looking to kick start their season at Newark. After last week’s Busman’s Holiday (in many senses) in the 2’s Gar, Louis, Finbar and the Brain returned to the fold. 

Hampered by late arrivals, the game didn’t get off to the best of starts with Newark running in three tries in the first fifteen minutes. The scores shared a common theme with the hosts establishing a forward platform in the Derby 22 and the outside backs running good lines off the 10. Could the tackling have been better? In a word, yes. 

Derby exerted a fair bit of pressure for the rest of the half but a malfunctioning line-out and inconsistent service to Louis at fly-half meant that the visitors turned around 17 -0 down but by no means out of it. 

The optimism for a comeback lasted, well, not very long with some quick scores for Newark extinguishing Derby’s flickering flame of resistance. Apart from an excellent break from Louis that led to a try in the corner for our very own Angry Pirate, the second half continued with Newark steadily racking up the points despite the visitor’s attempts at resistance – not even introduction of Fordy and his fright wig could put them off. 

After the drubbing by West Bridgford two weeks ago this was not the sort of team performance that was needed, but some individual contributions showed that the season could well pick up. Jesus played manfully at 8 behind a retreating scrum, JB and Sheriff – reunited in the second row – carried well, Griff was a dog on the flank, Flower sacrificed himself to the front row firing line and the backs only lacked a bit of consistency in defence. 

So, three weeks of friendlies before a home fixture against Melbourne that could decide whether we reach for greatness or slide into obscurity and there are still questions that need to be answered. Will the Brain’s trip to Tenerife coincide with a change of fortune? Can the Sheriff grab his games in charge by the scruff of the neck… then wrestle them to the ground and bark at them? And, on a philosophical note, if 4^th team chronicler and lank-haired fantasist Colin Dawes isn’t here to write the match report, did the game even take place? 

How Prophetic. Three chances of national pride, three defeats. (Although England’s Rugby team can hardly be put in the same remedial spacker class as our national Footy team)… I have come to the conclusion that I am an Anti-Prophet – I had a vivid dream on Friday night that not only did we win the world cup, but WE won the World Cup – denoting that Derby IV’s league game against West Bridgford was somehow inextricably linked to the fate of possibly the most exciting world sporting even for decades. So, in future, if I say everything’s going to be fine, don’t worry I had a dream about it… expect an attack of killer bees.

When England wins, each result emboldens. We all nod knowingly in modestly triumphant oneness, or enjoy mocking bereft adversaries ripping raiment and sobbing sadly. Enter Defeat, though, our essence vanishes expeditiously, no more enjoyment, no trying it on, no hilarity - only wet, gloomy, angry shame. How we expatiate painful loss and, yes, even defeat. 

If you expected a match report today, then read the previous paragraph in the style of the DERBYRUGBYCLUB competition entry (that was no more than 15 words) for the RFU World Cup prizes that we didn’t win back in July. (Or if you’re Glover ask someone to spell out the initial letters of each word for you).

Final Score: West Bridgford 68 - Derby IV’s 7

If you had one moment that defined your time on this earth, one thing that you’d be remembered for, one event that summed up your life… would you recognise it before it happens or let it pass you by? Most us are too young & too fond of booze to think about it. But it’s worth considering next time you can’t be bothered to go that extra mile for somebody or put in that extra effort for your team. Come Saturday 10pm in St Denis, England could become the greatest team in the history of the world cup.

By the way, there’s more on the fallout on the web from New Zealand after their ‘disappointing exit’. Sean Fitzpatrick writes in his column on the New Zealand Herald that the reason for the demise of the All Blacks was apparently they were ‘too prepared physically, but were mentally flawed’. Instead of taking a month out of the club schedule, they should mirror the Premiership by slogging the players into mental fitness – which is exactly the opposite of what led to Woodward’s resignation in 2004. Straws? Clutching? Also he reckons Coach Graham Henry shouldn’t be sacked because he’s the best around - he then goes on to say ‘...if he isn’t, tell me who is.’ Err… That’s easy, even Glover and his massively undiscovered cranium could answer that one….er…. Woodward, Ashton, White (Boks Coach)… for a start… Gittens… Flower… I could go on.

I tell you what though, those Dev’s know how to write a match report don’t they? Blimey, I’m hanging up my keyboard as I type… But, yet again, I digress.

The Meisters met Coalville III’s twice last year and a quick scan through the archives of Brian’s excellent website for DerbyRFC.co.uk proved that the home fixture on 18^th Nov was 39-12 to the Meisters where Dawes scored his debut try the day before his birthday (good match report with very long words that Glover didn’t get) and the Away match on 9^th Dec was a very windy Meisters victory 60 – 12 where Dawes got his first hat trick (Christmas-carol-inspired match report). This week saw a few welcome faces after the 2^nd’s game was cancelled. Nice-guy-Joe-Mills, Family-Man-Rob Lane, Kebab-Man-Paul-McCartin and Horrible-Man-Master-Bates.

The Meisters game plan (ha ha) was kicked into action, the forwards smothered any chance of Coalville touching the ball and the backs sprang into action. Tries came thick and fast. Poodle Poyser snapped and yapped his way clear for a Hat Trick after some tenacious work around the scrum and blasting through the fading defence. Rob Lane capped one after some fine running taking on the Coalville backs. Sheriff barked his way through a crash ball, as did Dawes for one each. Aaron, now taking his role as boot somewhat in his stride, kicked each one through the posts to end the first half 42 – 0. The talking point of the half was Dawes’s uncharacteristically unsettling number of passes to a winger. Two, in fact. Firstly, a break created by Lane put Dawes through on the last man, who, after drawing him, in passed a perfect lob to Walton on the 5m for a dead cert… it bounced off his hands like a …big bouncy thing. Secondly, Dawes caught a returned kick inside the Meisters half, dodged the first man and ran through the next two and found himself in open space with only the Full Back to beat (who looked uncannily like Side Show Bob). This is where your defining moments are, those split seconds to do something, anything, out of the ordinary… please, a dummy, a sidestep…a STEP will do. Nope. Too Late. Bosh. Dawes was brought down, but saw I’Anson’s ungainly flapping ugly lollop appearing along the wing, Dawes popped it up and I’Anson sailed past... without the ball. That was Gary’s only chance of touching the ball, that half, gone.

Second half, Davy & Dawes take an early bath and on the pitch runs Louis Gandolfo and Master Bates. The half carried on much as the first, Batesy boshed one in, Flannagan got two well deserved tries, Louis ‘Vuitton Fake Hangbag’ Gandolfo trotted one over the line, Finlay ran one in with his hips jiggling and a nice swan dive at the end. James Lloyd at Full Back capped off his try with what Dawes couldn’t - a nice dummy past Side Show Bob. Coalville had two tries no conversions.

Man of the Match for me was Aaron who kicked 9 out of 12 Conversions in his second game – success rate of 75% better than Jonny Wilkinson’s! Gary I’Anson never touched the ball all game.

There was some talk after the game of the easy win coming from the number of ringers in the side – well… they did OK up front, but my memory serves up only images of a knock on or two from McCartin, at least 3 penalties from an over-exuberant Mills – only Batesy & Laney saving their honour with a try. All the same, it was a pleasure for them to be in our side. Meisters on fine form.

Final Score: Meisters 78 – Coalville 10 (Dawes 2 – I’Anson 1)

I’ve developed a strange habit. (No, this one’s doesn’t carry health warnings). Every time there’s a major sporting victory by a home side, I go straight on the internet to soak up the mourning from the defeated opposition. You can read a lot from a nation in the way they handle defeat (and gloat at success too). Italians – abject denial, erase all memory of loss but strangely think they have a birthright to success. French – shrug of the shoulders then quietly roll out the guillotine, New Zealanders – Vitriolic Sore Losers, The English Ref received death threats after missing the French forward pass which lead to their wonderful victory. The Aussies National Sport is Pommie Bashing, talk about a nation of gloaters, but when they lose they crash & burn, (Kim Hughes tearfully resigned as captain on national telly after Botham’s awesome ashes & did you see the way the Aussie Prime Minister all but shoved the losers medals down the throats of Gregan & Co in 2003?). As a nation, we are quite reconciled to losing, but when we do there’s an endless stream of self-flagellating-self-deprecating-navel-staring-tripe…oh, but when we win…the superlatives surface.

So, in honour of the Gloating Norwegian Commentator after Norway beat England in 1982 at the nations lesser sport, a little message to all Antipodeans…. David Campese, Shane Warne, Greg Norman, Don Bradman, Germane Greer, Kylie Minogue, Jason Donovan, Crocodile Dundee, Dame Edna, Ned Kelly, Jonah Lomu, Russell Crowe, Hobbits & Orcs of Middle Earth, The worlds supply of Lamb, The whole of Shepherds Bush, All Walkabout Barstaff, Skippy The Bleedin Bush Kangaroo!… ARE YOU READING THIS?…. YOU GUYS TOOK A HELL OF A BEATING TODAY! 

The Meisters Mystery Tour took us into the wilds on Nottinghamshire (remember most the team get nosebleeds & altitude sickness if they stray more than 150 yards from Jorrocks) for our first trip to meet Paviors. Feeling a little like being stuck in the plot from Deliverance, the Meisters took to the field early so we could bask in the World Cup Glory of England sticking one up the Aussies AGAIN. Obviously, most of the squad had the same idea and didn’t turn up, leaving the Meisters staring down the barrel of a 13 man team for a League fixture. Jesus in particular letting us down at the last minute and Booya just needs to toughen up, softkok. Colin Luscombe, however, heroically turned up leaving his guests behind (who had travelled up from Devon to see him) to make it up to 14 men.

Louis’ kicks much like Britain-Pre-St-Aidan-of-Lindisfarne-AD635… Wildly Unconverted.

No sooner had the Meisters gained a foothold, Paviors hit back with yet another blindside overlap from a maul. End of the first half, 10 –10.

The second half started with the Meister blood boiling, some excellent work from the forwards brought a push over try. Nelly breathlessly catching up the rolling pack to add the extra 200 lbs per square inch need to push Brini & Aaron over the line… both claimed the try. This time Aaron took the boot responsibility with some conviction 17 –10. Like a heavyweight boxing match, slug for slug, Paviors hit back. This time aided and abetted by their Ref, a rolling maul so obviously knocked on, but the try was allowed and converted. 17 – 17. By now the sniping had started and little niggles at the ref gave the Paviors the lead, as the ref marched us 10 to our line and the overlap appeared yet again. A needless penalty soon after added to Paviors lead 17 – 27. The Meisters weren’t done yet, with Louis “I’m just a Teenage Dirtbag Baby” Gandolfo running rings around the Paviors defence Dawes had a chance to take the last man on, but decided to give Horsefield a hospital pass instead. However, Freddie did the honours, running in a try after Louis run from a ruck took out the cover. Aaron missed the conversion but added a penalty to bring the scores to 27 – 25 in the dying minutes. The Meisters howling for a League victory were going to make Paviors final minutes about as comfortable as falling down the stairs with leg callipers on. However, Pavior’s 16th Man came into his own. The Ref ignored a knock on from a high kick with the Meisters charging down field and allowed play to carry on despite both sets of players stopping for the offence. That’ll teach us to play to the whistle. The only player who didn’t stop was the one who knocked it on. Paviors scored and converted. They didn’t gloat though, The Meisters were magnanimous in defeat – not bad for 14 men. Final Score, Paviors won 34 – 25. (I’Anson 1 – Dawes 1).