Sefton RUFC

Tough week for loyal stalwarts, developing hopefuls and psychologists.

  

  

Pre-Game Build Up

-------------------------

A tough week, with the First Team captain’s “Monday Dream Team” contrasting dramatically with the “Thursday Night Actual Team”.

The 2s have to do some rapid reshuffling which involves a lot of “up” arrows on the lists of the 3 Mens Teams.

Lanky and I have never seen a “down” arrow.

On Saturday morning, we have 9 good men, all keen to show Southport some Sefton steel.

Keen, but possibly not well informed.

  

  

On The Couch: The-

-------------------------

Rapy Session

-------------------------

So the inevitable Friday night call comes in from the worrisome Blandie: “How’s the team looking Campo?”.

I explain that we are in a thin patch at the moment, and the team numbers don’t hit double figures.

Blandie’s depression deepens. “Why is it that the 3s have to suffer?”, he pleads ignorantly.

I can hear The Smiths in the background.

I patiently point out that the good players play in the First Team, then the not so good players go in the Second Team, and what’s left, are Third Team players.

Blandie struggles to comprehend that loyal players can also be shit players, “but why can’t the First Team go short for a change?”.

I make note that Blandie is probably an only child.

“I train, and pay my membership, why should I play in a depleted team?”, he reasons.

I begin to understand the disappointment Blandie’s parents must have to live with, and why they keep moving around Europe, although I am buoyed by Blandie’s consistent hope and belief of a higher team call up.

Subscript: It was pleasantly arousing to see a giggling Blandie after the match, bullying Brendo, Goulding and Sean. He won’t admit it, but he’s had a good day.

Next Friday, I think I will tell him we have substitutes.

  

  

The Semenal Moment

-------------------------

As mentioned earlier, the Sefton 3s consisted of 9 good men, who where not altogether knowledgable of the team numbers involved today.

Captain Campo had decided to keep that information from his troups, feeling that morale would stay high, until at least the kick off.

Captain Campo had spent a lot of time on the Sefton Wailing Wall though. Mobile phone in one hand, tissues in the other.

(‘unhappy’ tissues).

But, in what could only be considered a Miracle of Biblical proportions, for the first time ever, the ‘Team Selection’ Gods were finally answering his texts!!!

At the Eleventh Hour, Second Team Captain Lanky is informed that his opposition today, Ashton on Mersey, are crying off, and this will present 15 Sefton Second Team players at our disposal.

Captain Campo is beside himself (its amazing how unhappy tissues can change their useage!!).

All Second Teamers are asked to get to Southport as soon as possible.

Campo actually had to ring the Sefton First Team Captain, to ask what do you do with Team Substitutes.

    

    

For Every Ying, Theres a Yang

--------------------------------------

But of course, how could we even possibly be excited about anything in this game.

This torturous, draining monster that is rugby organisation, that feeds on our very souls, that drains all hope and turns wet dreams into soiled laundry.

Why did we bother getting excited by the prospect of a 2s Team cavalry?

Did we really think there would be some good players charging up to Southport on their white steeds?

Unfortunately, we were well led astray by 2s Captain Lanky, who promised much, but delivered little.

So much for 15 better players turning up….

There were 4 players from the 2s side.

And they couldn’t really be considered 2nd Team Players.

I mean… Muirhead, Hamling, little Lanky and young Lanky.

How’s that for a morale dampener?

   

   

The Warm Up

-------------------------

We all arrive in good time, with 10 minutes to get changed and 10 minutes to warm up.

Blandie has a good thing going, splitting up the forwards and backs, making sure we know each other.

We warm up and decide on a good strategy: Keep them under 63.

  

  

The Special Warm Up

-------------------------

Even though Sean Muirhead had turned up to Southport with the rest of the Sefton lads, he didn’t appear on the sideline until the ref had blown for the kick off.

There is talk that Sean needs a lot of time, and a lot of tape, to strap up his leg.

After the first 2 Southport tries, against a 12 man Sefton, Sean calls me aside and says, ‘Im nearly warmed up. I’ll come on after the next scrum’.

I look at him, wondering about his upbringing. Is he of Royal blood? Was he the youngest of a large family of girls?

Sean eventually graces us with his presence, and somehow makes things worse….

  

  

The Game

-------------------------

Southport had these three really big, fat props, who were really slow.

Sorry I can’t say that: Southport had these three really big, fat props, who were not fast.

One of them was playing his first game and boy did he know how to not motor.

Whenever one of these fat guys got the ball we saw Lanky doing a leech impression on one of the legs until he brought them down. They made long inroads, before going down, probably due to blood loss.

The rampantness wasn’t just contained to the Southport forwards.

Their backs got in the act too, once they saw Muirhead come on the pitch.

He was like a target for them. A Target Turnstile.

Poor young Lanky at fullback was non stop. He was the only Sefton player to make a tackle all day. Talk about character building. He came straight up to me after the game to discuss the fine art of the Air Tackle….

  

  

True Aussie Class

-----------------

The game may have almost got away from us, but when you talk about Sefton 3s, you don’t talk about giving up.

Down 6 tries to nil on the 40 minute mark, the ball finally makes it into Campo’s hands. He looks up at the wall of Southportians, but decides to have a go. He pierces the defence and sprints into open spaces. Eventually, one of the Southport players manages to catch him, but Campo slips a pass to the lurking Brendo (what was Brendo doing there, you wonder. How did Brendo manage to keep up with me, Campo wonders).

Anyway, glory boy scores in the corner and takes the accolades. Blandie describes it as the best try he has ever seen.

Sefton go into half time on a high.

  

  

Kicking Update

-----------------

On a day when there was very little to be happy about, we also have to talk about the kicking.

Hamling ends up with the ball for our kick off. He has the uncanny ability to find the opposition’s best ball runner, even before anyone has touched the ball.

Admittedly, the first 2 restarts did indeed make it 10 metres, the second one actually bounced into touch.

Bouyed, Hamling’s third restart sails tremendously over the touchline and into a neighbouring garden. Hamling takes something from it though. He’s worked out the strong wind direction.

Unfortunately, the well warmed up Muirhead is on the pitch for our 4th restart, and he commandingly steps up to the mark to nail an 8 metre kick that results in a scrum to Southport.

This happens again on the 5th restart as well. The Sefton leadership is getting restless. Surely there is a better way to determine wind direction?

In general play, Goulding was very quiet. Having to play outside both Blandie and Hamling, he wasn’t seeing much ball.

So when he did manage to get a hold of it, he wasted no time in having a little darty run before hoofing it straight into the unassuming neighbouring garden, resulting in a lineout from wher he kicked it.

The fact the the kick was shit was both a bad thing, and a good thing, I guess. No one is gunna extol the virtues of a shit kick.

  

  

The Winning Try

-----------------

In these games, played at the lowest level, although there is an official website and League table, the general concensus iamoungst the players, is that the team that scores the last try, wins.

True to the 3s Never Give In attitude, we stick it out to the 70th minute, even though we are 62-5 down. We swing the ball out the backs, fortunately Muirhead has wandered off to the water bottles to adjust his fringe.

Through the hands of Blandie, Hamling, Goulding and then the marauding Matty Williams, who storms into the Southport quarter, before unloading to young Lanky (who, thankfully, has his mother’s hands). Young Isaac manages to carry half the Southport team on his back over the tryline, to score a well deserved try.

Campo considers the concensus, and asks the ref to blow it up early, to allow Sefton a deserved 'social' victory.

Everyone seems happy with the result.

   

   

Injuries

----------

In the very few games that he has actually played, no one can ever recall seeing Darrell Smith ever finish a game uninjured.

Mind you, if you only ever play one game a season, it is understandable.

Today Darrell returned to the field for the first time since covid, talking about a sore ankle, but also about being a strong little soldier. I couldn’t help picturing about how close his relationship is with his mother.

Anyway, by the end of the game, Darrell has found something new to complain about. It seems the uncontested scrums has done it for his shoulder. It certainly didn’t hinder him tucking into his free pint afterwards.

No doubt he’ll be back again next year, although I’ll be recommending him for the 2s, as they have a special, ‘Man of Glass’ Award.

  

Yours, etc

Campo x