By Big Rich
December 23 2006

This week’s report is brought to you in conjunction with Sloe Gin and Wychwood Dog’s B*****ks. Oh boy, does my head hurt this morning? But what a feeling! There was much cause for celebration, so celebrate we did.

Northampton Saints v London Wasps 

22^nd December 2006  8pm

Match Report

 

 

 

I haven’t watched the match again, and I’m not sure how much the Sky cameras could have caught, but that will be one to commit to posterity – the Battle in the Fog. On paper, the likes of Josh Lewsey, Tom Voyce, Paul Sackey and Mark Van Gisbergen were going to run rings round our backline. Pre-match, Digger was unsecure under the high ball, David Quinlan was back from 5 weeks out with injury, so was ring-rusty, likewise Mattieu Bourret, sidelined because he was not Heineken Cup registered. Fortunately the game isn’t played on paper, and Peter Sloane had trained the team and come up with a game plan to counter the Wasps’ brilliance.

 

It was simple. Not pretty, but effective. Don’t give the ball to the backs. If ever there was a display of ten-man rugby, that game, particularly the second half, was it. I think that a number of people had predicted a high scoring contest, with lots of free-running rugby. Over the pre-match curry, I’d somewhat gloomily predicted we would be on the wrong end of a 36-18 caning. How wrong I was.

 

As the teams ran out into the cold December murk, a somewhat muted Franklins Gardens broke into a half-hearted ‘Wendy’. The game began by highlighting many people’s fears as first David Quinlan and then Paul Diggin were guilty of dropping high balls – but I don’t think they could see the ball any more than we could! The early exchanges settled the nerves, and we knew things were going to plan when the first scrum broke up with that nice sweet Mr Tupai introducing himself to that nasty horrid Mr Worsley. This was after Carlos Spencer had missed touch with a long range kick, only for the favour to be returned by Alex King who kicked the ball dead from his own ten metre line.

 

The deadlock was broken on 11 minutes when Spencer converted a penalty, given for an infringement at a ruck. The Wasps’ restart bounced into touch, and as Mark Robinson cleared from the line out, so we saw the pace that Sean Lamont has to offer as he left a cartoon-like body shaped hole in the fog up the flank. All was going well, only for play to be halted by this week’s Bertie Basset, Mr Rose, as the Saints were pinged for crossing.

 

The players were still unable to see the ball, and that can have been the only excuse for Wasps managing to lose a line out – the first of several. Robinson wriggled his way through one mass of bodies, only to knock the ball on when he hit the next contact. A penalty against the Saints at the scrum pushed play back into their defensive half, and this marked the beginning of a long period of concerted Wasps’ pressure. Another penalty saw Van Gisbergen make his first attempt on goal from 41 metres out. It had the direction, but not the legs, dropping under the cross bar. An Alex King drop goal was the next to miss the uprights, but still the Wasps pressed on. I couldn’t see who made it, but a thunderous tackle on Lawrence Dilly-dally-dayglo brought a huge cheer from the crowd. We were silenced by a peep from Mr Rose, who called the play back as Saints had strayed off side. Van Gisbergen made no mistake with an easy shot from right in front, and after 20 minutes, the score stood at 3 each.

 

By now, both sides had realised that the thickening fog was making the high ball especially testing, and used the tactic to extreme levels. It must be somewhat disheartening to be one of the back three knowing that the only contribution you are going to make to the game is to drop a succession of high balls, while the chances of doing what you’re good at are limited because the fly half isn’t even giving the centres a run, let alone the wings!

 

Wasps thought they were the first to cross the try line when Tom Voyce broke free from the half way line, but was only able to do so as the pass that released him was several yards forward. Probably. Another Wasps penalty from the scrum saw a lineout taking place inside the Saints own 22, and for perhaps the first time we saw the potent Wasps backs running forward at pace as the ball was spun wide. Then we saw what we had been missing for the past five weeks as Quinlan stopped Lewsey dead with a trademark tackle that put him flat on his back. Still the Wasps pressure was applied and they drove to within 2 metres of the line before another Saintly offside saw Van Gisbergen take the score to 3 – 6 on 24 minutes.

 

The pressure had taken its toll not only on the score board, but also on the front row, and the packed house (13,484) inwardly groaned at the sight of Chris Budgen replacing Pat Barnard. This is no slur on Budgen, more disappointment at the loss of a player who has proved to be the destroyer of opposition props every time he has packed down.

 

More high balls saw Paul Sackey tackled into touch, and another Saints steal from a Wasps lineout. Clearly the kicking game had been drummed into the players all week, as when Man-of-the-Match Steve Thompson caught the ball in midfield he too put boot to ball, and very well he did, sending it to within 5 metres of the try line, from where it was returned for a Saints lineout on the Wasps 22. However, the incursion into opposition territory did not last long, as once again the Pestly ones fought back into the saints half. This time, when the penalty was given for not rolling away, Mr Rose had had enough, and dispatched Air Wally for an early and elongated half-time break. Van Gisbergen was unable to convert the opportunity into points, and the half ended as it had begun, with more lost balls, and stolen lineouts.

 

So all in all, a scrappy first half, caused by poor or non-existent visibility, and cold hands and minds. There were those who were expecting the game to be called off at half time, as the fog was getting thicker. Indeed, from my position in E block of the Tetleys, I couldn’t see the corner of the Churches and Sturtridge, and many around me were getting match reports from the other end of the ground by text message!

 

Something was said at half time, for the Saints came out as a different team, not prepared to be bossed around by the Wasps pack, and it wasn’t long before the first penalty was awarded as Sackey was isolated under (another!) high ball, and held on. From 48 metres out, Spencer kicked to touch, and from the lineout, the cross field kick nearly worked, but this time it was Wasps turn to defend for dear life. As Wally started his second half, so it was Phil Vickery’s turn to warm the Naughty Corner, and it was satisfying to note that the Saints hadn’t conceded a point during the sin bin period – although that was more down to inaccuracy by the kicker rather than anything else.

 

Wasps were not so fortunate, as the Saints turned the screw on the depleted opposition pack. As a scrum collapsed and a penalty was awarded to the Saints, the mighty forwards stepped up, and chose to set the scrum again. And again. And again. And finally again as this time the drive came on, and Daniel Browne was able to dot the ball down. A true forwards try, and due reward for the tremendous effort put in. Spencer was unable to add the extras, so the score remained at 8 – 6, after 14 minutes.

 

I’d like to tell you what happened next, but I can’t, because I couldn’t see! I know that Wasps were awarded a kickable penalty, but managed to miss. Saints restarted their attack, and we saw the backs try to get warm, as the ball was spun beautifully through the hands, and a drive up the left wing saw the ball returned to its rightful home in the forwards, as the Saints were awarded a scrum 18 metres out. This was reset three times, before Mr Rose lost patience and awarded a penalty against the Wasps front row for collapsing. This time it was Mattieu Bourret who stepped up, but he too failed to change the score board.

 

So the usual plethora of replacements began, and this seemed to have a better impact for the Wasps rather than the Saints, as they broke into their attacking half for what seemed to be the first time in ages. Now it was up to the Saints to defend as though their lives depended on it. I am unable to tell you what happened, but one text message received behind me said that Wasps had been denied a good try. Whatever happened, the result was a Saints put in to a scrum, and the pressure was relieved, at least temporarily, only for it to be reapplied by giving away a penalty at the lineout, on the 22, and 12 metres in from the right touch line. Surely Van Gisbergen wasn’t going to let us off again? Bless him, he did, and with 5 minutes to go, this was to prove their last scoring opportunity.

 

As the Saints returned to the Wasps half, it was surely just time to play keep ball, and count the clock down. The team did their job, and the crowd did theirs, and there could be no doubt that the players knew when the clock reached zero. The ball then emerged from the back of the ruck, and was belted into row Z of the Churches. The drinking could begin!

 

At 8 – 6, this wasn’t a game for the neutral, nor was it a game for the backs, nor was it a game for the kickers of either team. But how sweet was it. We had seen sixteen Saintly tries scored in two one-sided contests over the past two weeks, and indeed Wasps had not been short of tries in their own Italian Jobs. You can’t tell how good we are if we beat weak Italian teams. So cried the doubters – Wait till Wasps visit, then we’ll see how far we’ve come. Only then can we say our season is back on track.

 

Well, we waited. Wasps visited, and were duly swatted. This was a forwards performance of truly immense proportions. They stood up to be counted, and drew their own line in the sand, over which none crossed. It reminded me of our packs of years gone by, our packs that contained the Mighty Tim, and Gary, and Pat, our packs that destroyed all comers, and more importantly, it looked like a team. It seemed like the pack had looked each other in the eye – possibly only at half time - and said they were prepared to shed blood for each other, to stand united against whatever Wasps could throw at them, and to have pride and passion and belief.

 

Whoever was the lucky one to win the shirt off the player’s back must have gone home with a shirt that was surely drenched in sweat and fog, but was filled with what it means to be a Saint.

 

Happy Christmas!