The Rugby World Cup: Tales of the Unexpected!

I am a cynic. When this world cup started in September I had images of England crashing out in the group stages. Being an England Rugby fan over the last, well four years actually, hasn't been great fun. Ever since Johnny kicked THAT drop goal that sent every England Rugby fan into an early morning beer induced delirium its been quite an ordeal wearing the red rose. To be honest I've not paid that much attention. Other than to grumble about how much the RFU paid for Andy Farrell in March 2005 and how completely useless he has been ever since. When he scored against Tonga my sister and I agreed that it was about time he started earning his keep. He didn't score his first union try until September 2006.

Anyway I digress.

England's poor start in the World Cup, the lack lustre display against USA, the frankly awful game against South Africa - how the world champions could leave the pitch with no points astounded me. The game against Tonga was better. England looked like they wanted to play rugby. So job done into the Quarters. Against Australia.

I ignored the press, voiced my doubts and went to Balham to watch. Even as the anthems started I predicted a loss for the men in white.

What a game! England looked liked they had finally got the memo that they were the World Champions. They played a good game. However when Australia scored their first try I thought it was all over. I dared to dream when England took the lead, and stayed nervously glued to the TV. I shouted like they could hear me all those miles away in Marseilles.

When the final whistle blew it was like we had won the world cup four years ago! The truth is that England still have a mountain to climb but a victory, over the sour Australians. It wouldn't be so good beating them is they could just win or lose in a Sporting manner. For example Even before a ball was kicked, Aussies had been shown an advert which featured Johnny Wilkinson’s World Cup winning drop goal and the words “revenge is sweet” plastered all over it.

Well Australia, as you famously said to the Kiwis in 2003 'Four more years boys, four more years.'

As for England, well I don't know. France in Paris on Saturday night. Tough, but whatever the result I'll be wearing my England shirt with pride - every England player, even Andy Gommersal and Andy Farrell, have given me something to smile about.

H x

(photo is from Reuters)

The ups and downs of a Worcester Warrior!

Well the last ten days have taken me on a roller coaster of rugby emotion. I am a huge rugby fan. I love the game, and its highs and lows. This last ten days has shown me both of those! Last Friday night I went to the Twickenham Stoop, home of NEC Harlequins. I met up with my sister and James came too. It had been raining all day. The rain had been horizontal at times! Clever me, with a desperate desire not to be cold had taken several layers and my cosy down jacket to work to wear. Shame wet feathers hold water to make you damp! Even so I went with hope and expectation in my heart. Live rugby brings out the passion in me. I shout and scream and sing. I wave my arms. I love it. I also had a naive feeling that Worcester could start their season turn around by beating fellow bottom of the leaguers Quins. I was sorely disappointed. The rugby matched the weather - it was awful! Worcester looked like a bunch of strangers who had been rounded up and told to play rugby. Now I don't mind it when Worcester lose, or in fact any team I support. But only if they have played at 100%. In the case of these guys they get PAID to play rugby. It is their JOB. Now as you know there are times I don't like my job, and I am sure we all have says when staying under the duvet seems like the preferable option but I go to work and I try to do my best. Anyway Worcester lost, they weren't beaten, they lost because they were poor, down trodden and lacked passion or flair. They trudged off the pitch staring down the barrel of the first division with 8 defeats out of 8 in the league. The supporters were angry. The Quins fans were SO ANTISOCIAL. Never have I been to a less welcoming rugby ground, win or lose its usually a good laugh in the bar chatting with the other team's fans. Not at the Stoop. Before the game Alice and I walked past a couple of men in their forties chatting. I overheard one say to the other in suitably plummy tones: "Well I've been to internationals you know, but nothing like this." Like what?? Oh an actual game of club rugby! Yick. And the journey home was long, and cold. On Monday afternoon Worcester sacked their head coach. Supporters started to talk. This is what they had wanted. It an odd feeling knowing that someone has lost their job, and this makes you happy. I struggle with that, but I also acknowledge that something had to change. A rising sense of optimism filled the message boards. Could we turn our season around, or even just win a league game! Sunday afternoon. Vicarage Road. Watford. Home of Saracens, and the biggest white elephant in rugby union - Andy Farrell. I find it hard knowing that my ticket money goes to paying his wages. Flippin RFU. I settled down on my sofa, Sky showing the game (live Rugby is why I pay my subscription!!) Nervous was not the word and I only had my geriatric cat to keep me company. The first half was DIRE. It was wet and windy and Worcester lost ball and opportunities. They went into half time 17-3 down and I resigned myself to another bad loss, and next season in the 1st Division. The second half saw the arrival of Tony 'Reg' Windo and Shane Drahm to the pitch, followed by Gavin THE Quinnell. It was a different team on that pitch. I screamed at the TV, I shouted encouragement, wondering how loud I would have to shout for it to be heard in Watford. The forwards scored a try. Then THE QUINNELL scored an awesome crash ball try. 17 - 17. Oh my life. We might not get beaten. 77 minutes SHINE DRAHM boots a perfect kick towards the uprights. I stopped breathing. It went over. I was hysterical. The cat ran away! The scariest 4 minutes for a long time followed and Worcester tried hard to throw it away! But they held on. The relief was written on the players faces. They thanked their fans, I called my sister. A ray of hope shone on the Warriors and all who follow them. We're still bottom. But we played like we meant it. If we can keep on doing that then even life in the first division won't be too bad!! Hannah x

Little Jack

This is a bit of a random one. I'll let the link below do most of the talking. Little Jack Wakefield is a three year old London Irish rugby fan. He has cancer. He was given twenty four hours to live on Friday and his parents took him home on Saturday morning. The rugby supporting community has drawn together in prayer and support for him and his family. Every day hundreds log on to the London Irish Message board to chack for messages and leave a note of support. At the time of writing God has not yet called him home, and through updates that get posted on the London Irish message board we found out that yesterday afternoon he was running around playing pirates. Once again I find myself asking God what's going on whilst desperately praying that His will be done in this situation.
London Irish Board

Ladies' Rugby

I've always thought that title is a bit of a misnomer, I mean how can you call a bunch of fit strong females playing what is traditionally a man's game 'ladies'? But that is what we are called: Beccehamians Ladies RFC. We have a website: Beccs Ladies. In nine days time I plan to play my last rugby game, for at least a season but maybe longer. It's not a decision I've made lightly, and it's only now that I'm starting to get a bit sad about it.
There are lots of reasons for stopping and I am not going to use my blog to justify myself. I love the game of rugby and I always will, it's gotten under my skin in the way no other sport ever has. I played a bit of hockey at school and enjoyed it until someone took at shot at goal and contacted with my face instead. I was forced to play netball but I'm big and cumbersome and prancing around a bit of tarmac in a short skirt was not my cup of tea, and my glorious career ended when I sprained my ankle and it went black. The girls I play with are lovely too and part of me regrets never really getting to know any of them properly. I guess I'm just not that good at making friends.
By stopping I am gifting myself with some more time. The last three years have been difficult trying to strike a balance between playing rugby on a Sunday afternoon and going to church on a Sunday evening. Whilst I feel good on the rugby pitch I feel fulfilled and alive in church. God has given me this great opportunity to use a gift that I never would have thought existed when I was younger - I am not sporty - and in rugby I found a game where you can be tall, and fat, not super fit, not girly and not cliquey and still you have a place and are accepted.
I may return, I cannot see the future and I don't like to close doors too firmly, but for now March 26th will see me don the number 4 shirt and take to the pitch for the last time in a while. Look after it girls, it's served me well. Hannah x

I love this picture. This guy Craig Gilles plays for Worcester. He is an awesome 7' something tall. I like the way he is head and shoulders above everythign else here like he is in his own special world, and the only thign that matters is the ball. Wow.