A sense of trepidation filled the few hardy warriors who embarked on the coach for the first, and indeed last, game of our tour. Was this fear of the opposition, who have boasted Irish star Jonny O'Connor in their line up? Was it anxiety over the weather - which, with sizzling conditions, promised only dehydration for the afternoon? Was it apprehension in the face of a Vipers' prop for us not to look like drunk, fat, uncoordinated buffoons? No…..it was the furthest we'd ventured from the Quays since we'd arrived and we were scared we may not find our tour home again….huh…how wrong we were…
So, after a Friday night of chicken breast, circles of candles and deep meditation to prepare us, we were ready for this, the greatest challenge of our rugby lives, this was our Everest boys, the pinnacle of our careers. Soon it became patently clear that this Everest of ours resembled more a mocking flight of stairs - with no stena-lift…in a sauna.

Defeated, but defiant

As we arrived the welcoming party must have got their times wrong as we milled around in the heat of the afternoon sun, trying to figure out which of the seemingly endless teams training (yes guys, training) we were soon to face on the field of battle. (at this point the field of battle deserves a mention for being the widest thing I have ever seen - we could have saved 45 minutes plane transfer by getting the pilot to land widthways on this behemoth of a pitch. It was also covered in sand - the nearest any of us got to a beach all weekend). Eventually, I think the opposition were already starting with their mind games (by god they needed it), we were told we had a team to play against and somewhere to get changed - even though Snake was already halfway changed by the time we got in there. (a year of 2nd team matches has obviously coloured his opinion of what hospitality should offer).
With tour virgins holding tampons at the ready we embarked on the serious quest of making sure we all slapped the ref's arse at least once each during the game. And what a game it was. Corinthians revealed a sense of anxiety early on, the captain asserting at the toss that he'd rather be in the bar drinking than running around in this heat with us - that fabled Irish hospitality.
The first half panned out much as expected and, though short on details of all the tries scored past us on that balmy afternoon, there are one or two memories that linger past the dehydration and shame. Despite the fact that our pack was much the heavier and had little to do in the set piece our backs betrayed a worrying lack of pace facing the prancing colts opposite. When the ball was kept tight the criminally named Athletic controlled the game, but once it was turned over and spread wide, the width of the pitch, slick handling and sheer pace told for us on a number of occasions. The referee, always trying to cut the match as short as he could, was fairly even. Almost at one point joining Mr Everret in a little dance on someone's back, who had inadvertently fallen the wrong side - quote 'its your own fault, you shouldn't be lying there-shoe away.'- old school doesn't come close.
As the match quickly fell out of grasp, the Athletic players seemed to relax somewhat and gained a bit of position now and then. The closest they came was a push over try expertly scored by our number 8. Unfortunately for him he scored it on the 5 metre line. The forwards carried on their relentless ball carrying, marshalled superbly by Joe (a Vipers prop), who we found the night before in, yes you've guessed it, The Quays. And with slightly more continuity we may have had a try for our efforts. The second half, is lost now in a heat haze. The only major memory still around is a certain second team captain finding the going too hard and head butting one of the opposition props in order to get off the field. To be fair to the lad he had little clue where he was or what he was doing - and if this had not mirrored his state of mind for the whole weekend we may have spotted earlier that he had a potentially serious concussion. Still he went off after a little coaxing from the Adder and spent the next four hours in a world quite removed from ours. The step up from 2's to 1's had never been revealed quite so brutally.

At long last, the Captain pulls

A good game in the conditions - I think we all enjoyed, if not the game, then the food afterwards. Unfortunately none of the opposition stayed around for a drink afterwards though to be honest, it was probably past their bedtime. The vice-president did come over and say a few words - and speaking to him afterwards he proved himself the epitome of Irish hospitality.

The few:

1. Daz Watson (prop): A solid performance by the old campaigner - more worried at times with his sunburnt head than the whole of the opposition front row, who lets be honest, he could have taken on his own.
2. Joe ….. (hooker): A legend. Found the night before propping (you see what I've done there?) a bar with his lovely lady wife in none other than the Quays, he was convinced that far from a romantic day spent with his wife, what he needed was to run around, driving and cajoling a bunch of asthmatic hippos around a park. A big thanks to Joe, who strove manfully to get us in the game - whether his marriage is still in any fit state remains to be seen next time we play Vipers.
3. Graham (prop): Another one for an easy afternoon against the underpowered opposition front row, though did look useful in the loose, his finest hour was yet to come, though not on the pitch.
4. Rob Watson (lock): No relation to the follically challenged Daz - Adder's dad was another who patrolled the loose with vigour, policing the breakdown and arresting any breaks from the criminally weak locks playing against him. Copped a few big hits, but always got up and carried on.
5. Adrian Martindale (lock): Rob's son could have a had a magnificent game, breaking tackles, securing lineout ball, monstrous dump tackles on enemy back rowers. Unfortunately he spent the entire game hiding behind the scrum half. At every breakdown the referee kindly offered Adder either 1st aid or a pint. We needed all the rest of the pack to keep Adder from running into the bar - good work lads. Fined after the game for whinging before hand - quite right.
6. Steve Orchard (blindside): Tackling, running with the ball, doing the dirty work he does so well. Nice to see Stevo back in the team.
7. John George Tucker (openside): Another lively performance from our own jack-in-the-box all action back rower. He did everything asked of him, especially not revealing to our rivals of any connection he may or may not have with the British Army. Legendary indeed.
8. Si Everett (no. 8): A performance of sorts. Though ably protecting the inexperienced scrum half there were a couple of incidents that require mention. Firstly the excellent work of the 7 forwards to put Si in a position to score a vital try with a pushover scrum. Which Si did….on the 5 metre line. His wide grin and immortal 'oh, fuck it' will live with us all for many a year. The other mention must go to his flagrant use of two words, which then stayed with us all tour and beyond. Spurred on by a old-school referee, the poor fellow who found himself on the wrong side of a ruck found only a pair of size 13's doing the old rinky dink dance on his back - with a maniacally laughing Si screaming 'shoooooooeee hiiiiim….'.
9. Chris Cannaby (scrumhalf): Would have had a better game had he a clue where his fly half was at any point during the game, turning round at one point to find no.10 having a nice chat to his outside centre, possibly about hair. Box kicking was in a different class.
10. Mark Edwards (flyhalf): As above didn't notice his general play, most of the ball going to the inside centre who was louder by far. Was responsible for our winning the game though with a belly swerve from the text book. Yes we did win the game - last try's a winna guys, we did tell you.
11. John Mitton (wing): A solid performance from John who linked well with his fullback to almost get over the line, tackled just short. Another with worries regarding a sunburnt head. Dubious honour of being tour kicker with one drop goal converting Piggy's try - take note Mr Weston - drop goals go over posts…
12. Martin Garness (inside centre): Distinguished himself with some good tackles and barraging runs forward. Quite literally put his body on the line, thank god it was head that got hit - otherwise could have done some serious damage.
13. Ben Fernand (outside centre): Temporarily filling the 13 shirt for tour, Ben had a few decent runs and tackles. Unfortunately his game will be forever marred by his inability to fullfill his role as tour nurse and tend to the injured Snake. Which has subsequently led to Snake being out for the next 5 weeks. Hang your head nursey.
14. Dan Byrne (wing): A fine performance on the wing. Though often having his hands full with a number of opposition backs, made his tackles and often broke the line with ball in hand.
15. Neil Weston (full back): The biggest, gingerest fullback I've ever seen did his team proud. The only time I know of when the hooker at 10 o'clock in the morning became the fullback by 12, but still put in a good performance.

Subs:
Simon Wells (wing): Moving out of position from fullback didn't seem to bother Si. Chav hair scared the life out of the opposition and saved a few tries by itself. A good performance from Si.
Mark Pembridge (outside centre/wing): Another non-tourist who came along for the game, for which we are extremely grateful. Played on the wing and later moved into the 13 position, playing well in both. A big thanks for playing.
James Cullup (waterboy) aka Bungle: An excellent performance, made harder by the fact that the tour thief had taken all the water bottles to the other game (this on the hottest day of the year - thanks Khany), and so had to use all the empty lucosade, coke and stella bottles found lying around the pitch. Also important in the bar, dishing out spare change (usually 5ps) to any who needed them, and the changing room where he supplied the coat hangers.