Aye, Aye Captain

The New Year is almost upon us, and if you hadn't already heard, your training schedule, or lack thereof, is due to J-Wil. In order for the club leadership to accurately assess our strengths and weaknesses for the coming year, they need to know who's up for the coming challenges, and what youre doing to prepare for them.

So, good or bad, Jason would like to know what your doing, fitness-wise. If you're idea of a good workout is popping bon-bons on the couch, or beating off like a red-ass monkey watching the banana channel, then so be it. We don't judge. Just let Jason know if you're in or if you're out.

So, with this being New Year's Eve, or Hogmanay, as they say in Scotland, what better than some verse from the famed Scottish poet, Robert Burns:

And there's a hand, my trusty fere!
And gie's a hand o' thine!
And we'll tak' a right gude-willie waught,
For auld lang syne.

WTF is that all about? Crazy Scottish git.

For those of you staying in tonight, here's a litte something for you to pass the time. Think of it as your own personal banana channel.

New Arrivals

By now you are all probably aware of the arrival of Leo's latest arrival, Thomas Caoullette, and if you were really unlucky you received a picture of a half-naked Leo clutching the poor, defensless babe like some freakish, Anne Geddes nightmare gone wrong. The club is offering group therapy sessions for those still traumatised by this disturbing image.

The Canon's have also welcomed a new addition, who's name as it turns out is Elsie Canon. The first seven times Matt told me her name over the phone today I swear he was saying, "Elfie". While I thought that sounded pretty seasonal, I didn't think it was going to serve the kid too well for the rest of the year. As I said, it turns out it's actually Elsie, which isn't a name I've heard in a while. Not since they ended rationing, leastwise. On the good side though, James has promised not to send us any half naked pictures of himself, unless you ask him nicely. He will however send you some pictures of half-naked women from his collection.

Happy-bloody-Christmas!

Election Fever

As has been the case in recent years, this year’s AGM was attended by only the die-hard politicos and those dumb enough to come outside in weather only fit for staying in to watch the Charlie Brown Christmas Special.

In his last official duties as Club President, Jim Gooch conducted the meeting with all the purpose of a man desperate to quit the job. As many of you already know, the club has been demoted to Division III, and regardless of the wisdom or justice of this, it is a done deal, and not worthy of too much further debate. The consensus of those present was to come together as a club and do our utmost to prove the folly of this decision to NERFU. We will have our first opportunity in the Spring, when the club has elected to compete with the D II sides at the NERFU tourney in Newport. No doubt an appropriate Spring schedule will precede that to ensure that we are up to the task.

Covering Old Business, it was reported that recruitment efforts are continuing on many fronts, excepting the natural holiday hiatus. We are reaching out to many of the local colleges, and Dom Tracey is once again stepping in to the breach to organize the Maine State Collegiate Tournament (see earlier post).

Financially the club did not have the best year, due in large part to some overruns on social events, some unpaid kit bills that finally caught up with us, and the never-ending issue of unpaid. How so many of you malfeasants show up each week and play with a clear conscience is beyond me. Pay your dues goddamit!

As a result the club coffers are a little thin and it is beholden on all of us to ensure that next year brings in some extra cash. 100 commemorative balls have been purchased that celebrate the 35th anniversary of the club, and they would be a splendid addition to your mantle/den/kit bag/jail cell. They are available for purchase for $50 from someone, and I think it is Diesel, but don’t quote me on that.

New Business was minimal, and confined to the subjects of women’s rugby and an over-35 side. Given that several of us have received enquiries about a women’s side, and some of them even from real women, it was agreed that we would try to make a more coordinated effort to put these women in touch with each other and keep them involved with the club to some degree. Perhaps we could organize all-girl sleepovers with mandatory tickle-fights? ……OK, that just set back recruitment for the women’s side by about 20 years. Girls, please understand that I kid, because I love……love too much, usually.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, the over-35 side. While many of you may have thought we were already running an over-35 side (called the A side), this would actually be different, in that it would involve only a 3-4 game schedule that would be more appropriate for players of such a vintage. Of course, these would be played before the A game, for those still looking to get three games in on a Saturday.

Elections were held, with a few notable changes. As mentioned, Jim Gooch stepped down as President to concentrate on his carpentry, but fortunately he had already been grooming a successor in Fred Haymen, who was swept to power in a landslide victory. Also departing was our long-suffering Treasurer, Matt Winch, who has stepped down to concentrate on erasing the memories of his bachelor party and the subsequent re-enactments by Jason Willey. Leo Caullette has stepped up to take the job, and we wish him every success in collecting dues. As many of you know, one of Leo’s most endearing qualities is his soothing voice, and $100 per season seems like a small price to pay for some peace and quiet.

The final roster of officials to be decided on the night were:
Club President – Fred Haymen
Captain – Jason Willey
Secretary – yours truly
Treasurer – Leo Caullette
Fixture Secretary – Mike Desalle

Any other outstanding positions will be decided in secret, without your knowledge, and without your input……What? You don’t like that? Well if it’s OK for Dick Cheney to do it, then you can bloody-well suck it up.

If there is anyone left who I have failed to alienate with this update, then well, you suck too. Happy Christmas/Hannukah/Qwanza/Birthday, Ricky Henderson/Anniversary of your coronation, Emperor Hirohito/launching of the Huygens probe from the Cassini orbiter/ Christmas ceasfire.

College Tourney Date

PRFC and Hews Truck Bodies & Equipment will once again present the Maine Collegiate Rugby Championships on April 23, 2005.

Awards and other goings on

There's lots to catch up on, so let's get right on with it.

Firstly, last month saw the annual awards banquet which was a very well attended affair, and saw everyone get together to re-live some of their favorite moments from the past season. As you can imagine, that didn't take too long, so plenty of time was left for drinking.

There was also time for awards, both official and humorous, and I'll do my best to remember them here. Firstly in the official category:

MVP - Jeff Keating
Living proof of the theraputic powers of rugby, Jeff put in another stellar season, playing in every game, whether he was healthy or not. His solid defense, linout prowess and his ability to always be in the right place at the right time were a huge contribution to our success this season. Oh wait....well, it was a huge contribution, anyway.

Biggest Contribution to the Club - Jason Willey
Anyone can be captain when things are going well, but it takes true character to steer the ship when all you can see is icebergs. Jason did just that, making a huge commitment to the club, and keeping our spirits up when things looked the most bleak.

Most Improved Player - Jim Gooch
Although Jim almost let this award slip by unoticed, his modesty conceals a talent and desire that has become invaluable to the club. In fact, I think this is Jim's second year winning this award, proving that he is not one to rest on his laurels. At this rate he'll be MVP in no time.

On the unofficial side, Jimmy Hendrix gave out so many great awards I can't even remember half of them. I do know that the La La Award was finally wrestled out of Jason Willey's grasp, and the head-ringing torch was passed to CB Brady. Bernie, er, I mean Ted, got a t-shirt to help him with his identity crisis. And a bunch of other stuff was given out, and if I hadn't waited so long to write this, then I probably would've remembered some of it. Gerry gave out some awards too, which mostly seem to go to people who've lived in his house at some time or another. That alone deserves an award. Oh, no, really, I was just kidding about that.

OK. That about wraps up the banquet. Props go to Jim Gooch for setting it all up, and for delivering such an elequent recap of the season, all without a crib sheet.

Oh yeah, of course the big news, was that thanks to our perfect season, NERFU has, in its wisdom, decided that we would enjoy next season more if we spent it in Division 3. In an unprecedented move, North Shore decided they wanted to give it a try in D2, and all of a suddden NERFU has started caring about the numbers of teams in our leauge, so down we go. Depending on your outlook, this is a good opportunity to prove a few people wrong, and pick up some hardware in the process. Of course, you could also see it as the final nail pinning you to the couch.

Wow, that's a great segue in to the fact that the AGM is coming up on Tuesday (the 7th), so you can get out and help us put together a plan to regain our rightful place in D2. Or keep your fat arse on the couch. It's your call, but it all goes down in the book.

Right. Last on the list is the fact that we are finally going to get a chance to see some of those pictures Ross took all Fall. My god, the guy was a hero for just standing on the touch line all through the Old Gold game, so make sure you get out to his exhibit on December 12th. It's at the Salt Institute, on Federal Street, from 5pm to 7pm. Be there, and I dare say you'll find someone to go out and get a drink with afterwards.

AGM

The club's annual general meeting will be held on Tuesday, December 7th at 6pm in the food court at One City Center. Please be there to vote on President, Captain, Secretary and Treasurer positions, to get an update on the state of the club, and to set the tone for the year to come.

Fall '04 wrap-up

I had planned to write a match report about the Newport game, but just never got around to it. The result enabled us to maintain a clean sheet (of sorts) for the Fall, and the match itself followed a now familiar pattern. For a more detailed account, please re-read the Hartford/Providence/Charles River/Springfield match reports, substituting the word "Newport" for the other team where appropriate.

All in all this Fall proved a test of character for the club as a whole. Credit and thanks go to all of you who showed up to play, to cheer us on, to coach us or just to share in our pain. As Kipling said, "it's a thin red line of heroes when the drums begin to roll". Well the line got mighty thin this season, and it may have bent but it never broke. Heroes to a man.

OK, before I get too mushy about you bastards, it is my duty to remind you of the upcoming banquet, to be held on Nov. 20th at Bull Feeney's in the Old Port. Tickets are $20 and include food and some cold beverages. You can pay J-Wil ahead of time at the Deli, or you can probably pony up on the night. At the very least let someone on the exec. know you're coming, and bring a friend if you have any left.

Halloween

Ah Halloween, the one time of the year that it’s OK to dress like a woman. But this year, instead of sitting on the couch eating all your candy, why not get your freak on and bring it Jerry Alves’ Halloween Party. It’s this Saturday, and apparently it’s from whenever you feel like showing up, to whenever you feel like leaving.

I know that most of you have lived at Jerry’s house at one time or another, so you know where it is. But, in case you don’t, feel free to call him on 879-0356 or 252-2075. If you’re afraid to call Jerry and want to get directions from J-Wil instead, 751-8029. That way you can make sure you won’t both turn up wearing the same dog collar and strap-on.

Newport match report to follow soon.

Springfield report

There's bad luck, there's lousy luck, and then somewhere below that there's Portland luck. With our first home game in what seems like two years the Portland side was swelled by some very welcome experience as they went in to the match against Springfield this weekend. So much for that. In the space of about 30 early-game seconds, all of that good news was erased when three players went down with game ending injuries, leaving the team back at square one.

On a blustery day at Fox Street, the game opened with some intense Springfield offense, and some equally intense defense by Portland inside their own 22. It was in this period that Mike Desalle picked up the first injury with a compound fracture/dislocation/laceration of his thumb. Before the ref even had time to blow the whistle for that injury, CB Brady picked up a gash to the head that would also send him to the hospital. With subs in place, play resumed only to have "little" Jake go down at Center with a separated shoulder.

I'm happy to say that after a brief tour of Portland's finest hospitals, all were taken care of, and made it back in time for the all important drink-up. Meanwhile, those left standing set about grinding themselves out of the hole they now found themselves in. The strong wind in the first half helped to keep most of the early play deep in Portland territory. Before long the Springfield backs were able to set up an overload in broken play, looking like a bunch of guys who had played together more than a few times. The all too familiar breakaway try ensued, which in past weeks might have sent the Portland boys into a downward spiral. By now however this side has faced pretty much every bitter pill that fate has handed out to them, swallowed it with a smile, and asked for more. Bouncing back off the ropes, Portland was able to string together a couple of passes of their own from the back of a scrum, ultimately sending Freddy Hayman scything through a couple of defenders and over the line.

Although Portland trailed at the half, their tail's were up, and were ready to take advantage of the wind in the second half. So, naturally, the wind dropped...

Nevertheless Portland hung on after the re-start, and were able to level the score at 12-12 with a pick up off the back of a 5 meter scrum. Alas, that was as close as they were going to get to victory, as cracks inevitably began to show in the makeshift side. No disrespect to all of those players who came on to fill in the gaps and give their all. In the end though, Springfield were able to rack a couple of breakaway scores, giving them the ultimate victory. The game ultimately fizzled out a little, with some suspicion that the game was called a little early due to the inevitable rancor that set it. Any ill feeling that may have been simmering was no doubt brought to the surface by a certain Springfield Center who squealed like a little girl, and had a little-girl hairdo to match. No doubt this character has been making friends throughout the division. I rest easy though, knowing that the long arm of NERFU will reach out to right injustice, spreading goodwill throughout the league.

The B Game also saw a win for Springfield, as they fielded pretty much the same side as in the first game. I don't know the score, but I do know that the game was superbly officiated, and saw a batch of new faces that might just be the future of the club.

Portland play their final game of the season this Saturday, at home to Newport. Kick off is at 1pm, so be sure to come out and rally round the family.

Burlington report

Nothing tests a side like a trip to Burlington. Not that there's anything wrong with the city itself. In fact, if you happen to like life on the crunchy side, then this is the town for you. But trust me, it's no day trip.

Somewhere just south of Canada was another team struggling at the bottom of D2, and they had the honor of hosting the Portland boys this weekend. At this stage of the season it would be safe to say that wooden utensils are being discussed, and both sides are looking for the positive signs for next season. From the Portland perspective it was good to see a couple of brand new faces; proof positive that even a little bit of recruitment can pay dividends. Hopefully more of the same can only serve to swell the ranks for next year.

The match itself was an all too familiar story, with Portland failing to translate guts and determination in to points. Compounding this was the inevitable road weariness that took some time (and one score) to shake off, the growing list of injuries, and the fact that no ref materialized and the match was instead officiated by one of the Burlington coaches. Seemingly the refs hate the drive up there even more than we do. Whether an impartial ref would've made any difference to the outcome is doubtful, but the fact this bloke was handing out yellow post-it notes (offering a free trip to the sin bin) to Portland players faster than a secretary on speed gives you some idea of the distractions we had to contend with.

As usual, a tight half-time score gave way to a widening gap in the second half. The Burlington kicker was in the groove, and was able to punish pretty much every penalty we gave up. Final score was in the neighborhood of 30-10, with the Portland boys scrapping both literally and figuratively right up to the end. Man of the Match for Portland was Jeff Keating, who showed up and played with his ribs barely held together, and helped to set up at least one of the Portland tries.

The B game had little to commend it, other than the presence of our roving reporter, Chris Joob, who stepped out from behind the notebook to lace up some boots and get a taste of the game first hand. Credit to Chris for giving it a try, and hopefully it's not the last time we'll see him in a scarlet jersey. Thanks go to all those who made the trip and left it all out there on both games.

At this stage we have just two home games left in the season. Most of the regular players in the club are carrying at least one injury, and those still standing don't need to be playing two games every weekend. If you ever pulled on a Portland jersey, we need your help for the next two weekends. Even if you think you've only got half a B game in you, we need you to shoulder the load and help out the club. Who knows, you might even find out that you miss the game.

Charles River report

OK, now I know how Paul Bremmer felt, trying to put on a positive spin on the news with bombs going off in the background. On the "good news" front, it didn't rain this week, although the pitch supplied by Boston Sand and Gravel was proof that there is still plenty of digging left to be done in the city. What you love about Charles River is that you never have to play on the same ground twice. That way you don't have to get attached to any of those nice grounds they used to play on.

Of course, not many of Charles River's current team can remember any of those grounds, nor all the ass-whoppings we handed out back in the day. But that was a much simpler time, when we all knew which way was up, and all the D2 results before they happen. Well holy hell if this isn't a whole new day, and all that old bastards like me can do is sit around and complain about other team's good fortune. Well vive la bloody-fuckin'-difference!

OK, enough of that whining. Charles River fielded a well drilled and physical side, which is something I am getting tired of saying about our opponents this year. With a couple of wins under their belt, they were clearly looking to take advantage of their momentum. I'd love to tell you how many wins exactly, but the nerfu website stumbles from bad to worse. Were you of a mind to try and view the league standings, you might be surprised by the number of draws that have come up. Note to nerfu: just because the the local community college offers html programmers on the cheap, doesn't necessarily mean they know what they're doing.

Sorry, did I say I was done whining? If only. OK, where was I? Right, the first ten minutes or so were played at a frenetic pace, with both sides running and tackling hard. It seemed only a matter of time before one side made a breakthrough. Eventually Portland yielded, allowing River their first score through an overload on the weak side. They soon scored again through a hopeful (or was it gifted?) chip kick, that ended in a 50/50 ball that came down in their favor. Before the half Portland was able to claw some way back with a score of their own, although I'm not sure who got a hand on it in the end. We converted, and I think the half time score was 14-7.

The second half reflected pretty much the same dominance, and while Portland continued to make life difficult, the gap continued to widen. As usual, memory of specific detail is sketchy. I know we scored again, but River scored more. Final score was apparently something like 32-12.

Portland hit the road again this weekend, as they travel to Burlington, for a match up that usually provides an entertaining scrap. Whatever happens, let's hope that the boat that delivered a crap-load of new recruits to every team south of Portsmouth makes a stop in Portland soon.

Providence report

A light side traveled to Providence on Saturday without a good number of regulars who had other commitments. The game was a relatively good one with each side scoring a try in the first half, with the 10-5 halftime score reflecting the solid first phase defense of Portland. ScottyToHotty (playing outside center) set up Bernie for a good-looking Portland try. The second half had Portland playing into the wind and the game slipped away with the lads (in their flashy new red strip) being caught out and unable to re-organize their defense to a counter-attacking Providence back-line. Final scoreline was somewhere in the five tries to one ballpark. Kudos to Andy Nelson for making the trip with his trashed shoulder and pulling on a jersey.

OK, scratch that stuff about the meeting at Gritty’s tonight. That’s all wrong, and will probably be held next week. Practice is ON tonight at Riverton School, under the lights at 7pm. We will be continuing practice at this location from now on. Make sure you make it. Call for directions if you are unfamiliar with Riverton – 329.3630 (me) or 751.8029 (J-Wil). I’ll try to get them posted soon.

On a field more suited to water polo than rugby, Old Gold got the better of Portland this weekend, as both sides sought to come away with bragging rights in this ongoing DII rivalry.

Old Gold, fielding a new look pack, that seemed to have spent a good deal of time at the buffet table over the summer, looked to assert their physical presence early. Using the slope of the field to their advantage, the home team employed a strategy of crash ball that was always going to be hard to defend. While the conditions made it very difficult for either side to maintain possession for very long, ultimately Old Gold were able to break through the Portland defenses and register the first points. Place kicking was not going to be anyone’s strong point on the day, and the score line stood at 5-0 in favor of the “units”.

While Portland began to muster some offense of their own, the lack of predictable possession from the set piece, combined with the early departure of their fly-half, Joey D’Andria, meant it was difficult for them to muster much of a cohesive effort. As a result, Old Gold were soon banging the ball down the slope again, and the laws of physics prevailed, giving them their second score of the half. Unconverted again, the score stood at 10-0 “units”.

Late in the first half though, Portland found themselves at the “dry” end of the pitch and were able to secure clean ball from a line out, which they then drove menacingly towards the Old Gold line. Sensing trouble, the Old Gold forwards did what they know best, and set out to pull the maul down. Although they were unsuccessful, they were able to bring the maul to standstill, resulting in a scrum in their favor. Fortunately the ball managed to squirt out the of the back under pressure from Jerry Alves, and the vigilant Jeff Keating was able to jump on the ball in the try zone. Score one for the good guys. Jason Willey was able to defy the odds and make the conversion, leaving the half-time score at 10-7.

The second half began with Portland applying some gravitational pressure of their own, although they were unable to wade through and cross the Old Gold line. Eventually a kickable penalty opportunity presented itself, but Jason’s attempt to punch a four iron out of the water hazard drifted right, and did not trouble the scorers.

Although it seems as though Portland had much of the second half possession, they were able to do little with it, handling the ball sideways, and making little forward momentum. In the end Old Gold were able to put the game realistically out of reach with their final score, which is sketchy in my memory, but certainly left the final score at 15-7.

No excuses about the final result. Despite a one sided encounter at Attitash in the Spring, Portland have choked against Old Gold in the league for two years running. Time to get a little self belief, and git ‘er done.

In lieu of practice tonight there will be a team meeting at Gritty’s tonight, in the basement at 6pm. All should attend, or at least let J-Wil know why you can’t make it.

Meet at the park and ride tomorrow @ 9 am, ready for the game at Old Gold. If you have any questions/problems or would just like to chat, you can call Jason Willey on 207 751 8029. He thinks he's getting lucky tonight, so call and interrupt anyway.

If you are going directly to the ground, directions are here, but call and let us know you're on the way.

Gents, I have a couple of things to update you on.

Firstly, it seems that Old Gold are getting in the trash talk (of sorts) early, in this post which still highlights their dislike for spiders. I guess that one win back in 1987 makes up for all the ass-whoopings since then.

Ever since NERFU "improved" their web site it is now impossible to find out the scores from other matches in our division, other than to troll around the other club websites. Well, unfortunately it seems as if many of the other clubs have not been blessed with a johhny-on-the-spot secretary like me, so nobody bloody updates their scores. One exception though is the aforementioned Old Gold, who still manage to find good things is their 42 point shut-out by Newport, bless them. Nedless to say they will be eager to score some points this coming weekend, and we will need to be on our mettle to prevent that. So make sure you are at practice this Thursday, 6pm, Fox Street.

Another good reason to make it to practice is that we have been approached by an aspiring journalist from the Salt Institute for Documentary Studies who wants to write a piece about the club and its players. This will involve him showing up at practice and games and getting to know us all, and writing down his obesrvations, hopefully for publication in their annual magazine. I encourage all of you to welcome him into the club for the season, and to be as candid with him as possible. And for the record, if you think you might have concealed your own neuroses/mental disorder/addictions to this point, and are afraid of having them exposed, you're only fooling youself, and we call that "denial".

Lastly, for those of you looking for employment, LL Bean is experiencing a seasonal shortfall of employees, and have a lot of positions to fill. If you are looking for some short term (3-4 months) work, with a great discount, make sure you attend their Job Fair this coming Monday, from 3 to 7pm. It is being held in the Stonewood Building, which is on Route 1, south of Freeport, on the right, heading north, not far past the Big Indian. Best of all, if you mention my name, and can hold down a job there for 45 days, I get a $25 Gift Certificate. Isn't that cool? But don't let that be your only motivation for applying. It really is a good place to work, and could lead to something permanent if you're interested.

Portland put up a scrappy and determined performance against Hartford Wanderers this past weekend, but in the end they were outmanned and outgunned by a well disciplined visiting team.

Last time I checked, the HOV lane out of Hartford only runs a couple of miles, so gas prices in Connecticut must be a lot cheaper than Maine given that Hartford decided to bring along about 45 players, plus assorted hangers-on. Portland meanwhile displayed a much more minimalist approach, with the usual dribble of players arriving up to five minutes before game time. As with baseball, the differences between big-market and small-market ball can sometimes be painfully apparent, but just like the Twins, the Portland team were able to do a lot with a little.

The first half was largely dominated by Hartford, as Portland worked to develop some cohesion between their team, and some belief that they could take the game to Hartford. In the mean time however the visitors were able to score a couple of tries and a penalty, leaving the half-time score at something like 13-0. After the break, Portland camped in the Hartford Red Zone, although they were unable to pile on any points early. The visitors did eventually yield, giving up a couple of scores, although Portland lacked the means to convert either of them.

Despite the apparent comeback, Hartford were not idle, running in 3 or 4 fast break tries of their own, displaying some impressive discipline, and putting the final result beyond and doubt. What the final score was exactly, I'm not sure, but I would guess it was something like 35-10.

The B game offered much of the same, with a completely different bunch of Wanderers, all with the same haircut as the first lot. Given the long drive, and all the time sitting around, their B side was annoyingly gung-ho, and did not let up on the now tired Portland players. As a result, Portland tried to pull some of the oldest tricks in the book, much to the consternation of the ref. Despite all their guile however, they could not supress the Hartford side, who came up eventual winners, 17-10.

Practice continues this week at the new time of 6pm, in advance of this weekends away trip to our old pals, Old Gold. Last time I checked their website, they were still running the following ad: "Old Gold Rugby is currently looking for a new coach to help direct this team to D2 champs." Holy shit, if there are any coaches out there that can do that, then their talents might be better served creating world peace or finding a cure for cancer. But be warned, the last bloke that pulled off a miracle on a par with getting Old Gold to the D2 finals was crucified. Amen.

No "Acts of God" are going to come between us and our practice, so while the dregs of Hurricane Francis hit us tomorrow, you'll be snug indoors at Jokers for practice. 6:30pm to 8:30pm, make sure you're there, so you can represent this weekend against Hartford. Take that, Jebus.

For those of you who weren't there last weekend, Amoeskeag roughed us up like a bunch of Russian hostage negotiators. As usual for this game it was about 90 degrees, and the scoreline was less than favorable. I don't know what it was exactly, but it was a pretty one-sided affair. Nevertheless, we saw some encouraging performances by our newer players, and didn't pick up too many injuries amongst the older ones.

In advance of our first league game this coming weekend, practice will be moving to 6pm, at the usual Fox Street location. For some of you that means you'll have to phone in your lame-ass excuses half an hour earlier. For the rest of us, let's be there and ready to go promptly.

Why weren't you at practice last night? Fine...whatever.

Well, there's a game this weekend, against Amoskeag, so you'd better make it to that, and we'll say no more about it. Be at Fox Street at 12:30pm. Bring plenty of water, and cook a lot of something and bring it to the drink up.

As you were.

Lads, apparently CIPP eligibility is going to be scrutinized more closely than ever this Fall, so if you are not already registered, you need to get on and do it now! It cost $25, and get's you a cool sticker and card. Here's the sorry list of who we have registered so far. Many of you claim to not remember if you registered in the Spring, so if your name is not on this list, your not registered - geddit? Here's the form - just fax it in with a credit card number and you're all set. If you prefer, just fax me your credit card, and I'll take care of it, and a few other things.

Many of you have still to show your face at practice. I don't get this. You must be in great shape already....

Well, I just witnessed the dismantiling of Team USA by mighty, mighty Puerto Rico. My encyclopedia tells me that Puerto Rico is "a self-governing, unincorporated, organized territory of the United States located in the northeast Caribbean". Puerto Rico was invaded by the U.S. in 1898, and they have pretty much run the show since then, although stopping short of annexing the country entirely and making it another state. Seems like it might be time to re-think that, since the only way to stop this from happening again will be to re-invade and take away all their basketballs of mass destruction. Peurto Rico, consider yourself on warning!

So it turns out that all that bling doesn't make you a better basketball player. I'm guessing that it has a bit more to do with practice. In that vein, practice for the fall season starts in earnest this Tuesday. So, like Lebron James, you can rely on your bling and your complete lack of activity over the summer, or like Carlos Arroyo you can work your butt off and pull off a few upsets this fall....

6:30 pm at Fox Street, unless you hear otherwise.

Practice tonight at the Fox, at half-past six. I got lots of stickers, so come on down.

In case you haven't heard, Leo has 2-3 extra tickets to next week's Patriots pre-season run around with the Eagles. 15 yard line, second row, third level, since you asked. Wot, no seat numbers? Like the stand-up guy that he is, he's only asking face value for these tickets, which is only $65. But wait...this also includes a ride down, but I'm guessing it will be in the Civic, not the Envoy.

Anyway, Leo loves to get lots of e-mail, so if you recon that face value is a little steep for these tickets, e-mail him here with your best offer. Or failing that you can just go round his house and watch the game on his 50" plasma set while he's not there.

August 3rd, on this day in history, about half an hour ago, I quit my craptacular job. So it's goodbye to that pride swallowing paycheck, and hopefully on to a better one. I feel a little bit guilty for all the time I spent in the bathroom playing Tetris on my phone. But they ought to be sorry for the eleven months of my life they stole. I'll never get those back.

In a similar vein, on this same day in 1914 Germany declared war on France, proving they're not all bad. But then they had to go and get everyone else involved and spoil it for the rest of us. 8.5 million deaths later and France was still there. Trust me, you're not alone in thinking it was all pretty pointless then. For the league table on other 20th century acts of human futility, click here. Dubya doesn't even make the Top 20.

In a completely different vein, August 3rd 1946 saw the foundation of the National Basketball Association by a bunch of short, white men. We all know how that ended up.

For a summary of the major issues in this year's political debate, check this out. Other than that, practice will be held again this Thursday at Fox Street. 6:30pm is the designated hour. There are just six weeks to our first game, so if you're not already doing something to get in shape, it's about time you started.

You don't have to be large to be the Alpha Male.

So let the list making begin. Alpha Males we all know and love:

James Bond (of course)
Maximus Decimus Meridius
Bambi's Dad
Lt. Col. Bill Kilgore (Apocolypse Now)
Henry Rollins
Gengis Khan
George Patten
Gordon, The Big Blue Engine
Yellowstone Wolf #195
Ernest Hemingway
Brett Favre
Batman

Who else you got? Let me know. E-mail or write it on the back of a twenty and mail it to me.

Still struggling to understand the concept of the Alpha Male?
Per dictionary.com it means: a domineering man; the dominant member in a group of males, especially animals.
Not sure if you really qualify? Take the test all the chimps are taking to figure it out.
Still not getting it? See this picture? You should be the dog with his tail in the air, while the other dog demonstrates a classic submissive position. This should resemble a typical day for you. That dog way in the background plays for Old Gold.

Gents, the Reggae Cruise is fast approaching and there are still tickets to be sold. Get out there and pimp it. See J-Wil at the Deli if you need extra tickets. We need to sell all of these to turn a profit.

"Sevens" tomorrow. Fox Street, 6:30pm. It's called that, because there's meant to be seven on each side. If you don't turn up, we won't be able to call it sevens, see? "Fours" anyone?

I know that you've all been wondering for a long time whatever happened to that Bumper Sticker idea that I had. Well, let me tell you that after much deliberation it is time to announce the winner.
 
I would like to say that I was overwhelmed with entries, but in all only about seven of you had any bright ideas. I can only assume that the rest of you didn't have any ideas, and will be happy with the final selection.
 
Anyway, down to business. Of the entries received, they ranged from the predictable (blood, gore, lobsters etc) through long-winded to downright obscure. What I was looking for was something that was accessible to the general public, while at the same time demonstrating our wit, charm and natural superiority to ordinary mortals. However funny some of the inside jokes may have been, I doubt that they would have done much to attract new members.
 
Firstly, honorable mention goes to James Canon, who sent a number of creative entries, including these two crackers that are an obvious reflection of his current state of mind:
"Eat Carbs, Play Rugby"
"Rugby: another great reason to stay single"
 
In the end, the honors go to the bumper sticker savant, Matt Burgess. Out of the swath of strange and non-sensical entries that he sent me came this gem that I hope you will all appreciate:
 
Portland Rugby
Alpha Males since 1969
 
I chose this one because of the very subtle way it which it says "we're better than you are". No doubt this will inflame feminists, tree huggers and beta-males everywhere, but that's kind of the point, isn't it? The right type of guy is going to be challenged by such a statement, and the right type of gal is going to want to get herself impregnated by one of these Alpha males. Everybody wins! (including the gene pool).
 
Stickers are on order, so it's too late to launch a protest. If you want something different, then I'll put you in touch with my source and you can get your own bloody stickers.
 
On other business, Leo Caouette invites you to his house on Sunday night to watch the Eagles vs. France. He has a big new 50" telly that he wants to show you. Hmmm....do you think he might be compensating for something? Anyway, try not to get plasma all over the front of your trousers when you see it. It's bring your own beer and food, and possibly seating. Don't be surprised if you have to chip in for electricity. The game starts at 9pm, and you are not welcome before 8pm, and whatever you do, do not repeatedly e-mail him here to rsvp and ask other inane questions about what to wear, directions, team selections, availability of surround sound etc. 

Gents, check out the fall schedule over on the right. Make sure you have fresh tire for those four road games in a row. Make sure you have fresh legs by getting out to practice tonight.

Ah, it was good to see so many of you again this Sunday and share a few beers. Thanks Andy for the good time, and may I take this opprtunity to congratulate you and Amanda. I wish you better luck than me....no, really, that was just a joke.

A weekly "sevens" run around starts this Thursday, on Fox Street @ 6:30pm. Per J-Wil, if you plan on being a dick, bring $20 to contribute to the after practice festivities. "Being a dick" is at the discretion of the majority of those present but is likely to include but not be limited to the following:
Crying like a baby
Calling tags you never made
Kicking the ball over my head on restarts
Shoving & bitch slapping
Wearing a "do rag" (this isn't Old Gold for christ's sake)
Shouting "what the fuck" every time you drop a pass
Driving off in a huff (at least without leaving your $20)
Stiff-arms
Not sharing your water
Claiming you "still had another gear" after nearly being run down by Leo
Throwing up spastic passes and then yelling at me for not catching them
Picking all the backs on your team
Claiming you didn't know what rules we were playing by when everyone yells at you for being tagged
Saying "your not back 5" all the time
Not being back 2 and a half
Kicking sand in my face
Trying to kick the ball to yourself and missing
Only playing on offense and then saying you have a "tight hammy" when we loose posession
Having a "tight hammy" or tight anything for that matter
Running off to answer your cell phone
Not going for a drink because you have some shady hook up planned
Hoisting up a kick on your imaginary "fifth and last tackle"
Pretending you didn't know you were out of bounds
Denying you are being a dick and refusing to accept the majority decision
Thinking you're better than you actually are
Anything else that I think of...

On this day in history, 1985, it was Live Aid. A really big concert about something. Who can forget watching such great performers as Adam & The Ants, Joan Baez, Billy Ocean, Howard Jones, REO Speedwagon, Ashford and Simpson, Wham!, Hall and Oats and the Thompson Twins? Some of you may be too young to remember much about it, but I have vivid memories of watching for hours hoping that Duran Duran was coming on next. Little did I know that I would not get to witness them again live for another 18 years. Such a loss to humanity.
Nevertheless, it was a rockin' good day, and a much simpler time. We all still thought that Freddy Mercury and Elton John were straight, that the Rolling Stones were about to retire, and that Power Station were going to be the best group of all time. Oh the folly of youth...
Ah well, as Bob Dylan said on the day, "it would be nice if some of this money went to American farmers."

A gentle reminder about the Reggae Booze Cruise coming up at the end of the month. July 24th to be precise, from 4pm to 7pm. Three hours stuck out at sea with all your team mates - but apart from that it promises to be a good time. The event is being coordinated with the Navigators Quad Rugby team, so it promises to be a whole lot better organized than anything we could've done by ourselves. The band "Stream" will be playing, if that means anything to you, and more importantly there will be a cash bar. Tropical attire is encouraged, and there will be door prizes awarded, although I'm not sure what for. Good behavior, probably.

Jimmy Hendricks informed me that all active players are required to sell 5 tickets each, and that they must be to hot girls only. OK, I made that last bit up, but if you could at least make an effort to target the deeper end of the female gene pool I think we'd all have a much better time.

Hats off to the Eagles this weekend for giving the French a scare. Only a late surge from the Les Blues allowed them to avoid utter humiliation. Read the full report here.

Lastly, I need to leave you with a link that will render you entirely non-productive for the rest of the day. Here you go. Talk about a train wreck of humanity. I have so much to get off my chest....

Aprapos of nothing, as usual, I found this link covering the ongoing chlorination of the gene pool. I looked, but there are no Portland rugby players to be found....yet.

Have a great weekend. Allez les Eagles!

Here's some information on selections and whatnot for this weekend's test versus France. If we can keep it within 50 points, we'll be doing well. The only guys from the Northeast are the Wolfhounds scrummie and Mark Griffin of Old Blue who has drifted in and out of favor for the last couple of years.

Goff On Rugby -- American Rugby News

Belated congratulations to Matt Boyer and his fair wife on the arrival of their son, Henry William Boyer. He was born on May 24, sharing a birthday with Bob Dylan, Queen Victoria, Tracy McGrady and Heavy D. According to Matt he's a big fella so the next generation of Portland rugby players is well under way.

Also congrats to Matt Burgess for completing his run up Mt. Washington, and for shaving 30 minutes of his previous best time (of 4 days, 6 hours, 25 minutes). Just kidding! There's a picture circulating of Matt approaching the summit, and that expression on his face is pure joy!

Thats all the news for now. Stay frosty.

Hola Amigos. This posting lark was getting the better of me and I've been seriously out of new material for a long time. Besides, the Spring season (and I use the term loosely) is over, so there isn't a whole hell of a lot going on.

Unless of course you count Euro 2004, where just yesterday England inflicted a crushing defeat on Croatia and Wayne Rooney scored two fantastic goals. I swear, that boy is the next Gary Linekar (who hell he?). So next stop Portugal in the quarter-finals. If we win, the only certainty will be that many innocent English fans will get knifed by those crazy Latin bastards. They love their football down there, but only in a gay, man-kissing, crime-of-passion kind of way. Of course, the Portugese people I've met over here are a much more level-headed bunch....

Meanwhile the England rugby team continues its free fall, getting kicked up one side of New Zealand and down the other, and getting all chippy about it too. I think we should've refused to play again after we won the world cup. Not that they're alone mind you, Scotland got their asses handed to them by Australia and South Africa used up Ireland. Wales on the other hand beat Argentina, which really isn't much to write home about.

I'll tell you what though, the cricket team looks pretty good. The boys beat New Zealand 3-0 in the test series and look to do the same to the much diminished West Indies. When will they make cricket and Olympic sport again?

Alright, that's all the sports news that's fit to print. On to a fine new links. Apparently this craigslist.org thing is a phenomenon that has passed me by, until today. As with most of the internet it is a pile of boring, self-indulgent shit interspersed with a few gems. Fortunately they've done much of the sifting for you in their "best of" section. My own favorites inclulde this little warm-up test; a note from my ex-girlfriend; a shout-out to the neighbors; some love from the girl at the front desk; my own confession; and a note to the wife.

Go on and explore the whole lot for yourself here.

For all the talk, it was just a small group of stalwarts who made their way up to Attitash this weekend to round off the Spring season. Many names had been thrown out during the week about who was going to attend, but in the end it was just the usual suspects.

Alright, enough about the wasters, once again Portland found themselves drawn against Mystic River in the opening game. On paper this pits the top two sides against each other, and it was the Boston side that had the upper hand. Portland showed up initially with only 14 players, many of whom were carrying injuries from earlier in the Spring. After borrowing a player from Old Gold we took the field against a young and motivated Mystic side.

The Portland side hung with Mystics throughout the first half, and the 3-7 scoreline at the break was a fair reflection of the run of play. The second half was not so close however, as cracks were exposed and Mystics were able to run in 3 or 4 tries. In the process Portland picked up a couple of new injuries, lost their sub back to Old Gold, and lost another player to family commitments for the afternoon.

Things did not look good for our second scheduled game against Team Frankenstein, but fortunately they were even flakier than us, and showed up with only a handful of players. That means a forfeit, and a welcome let off for us. Naturally all we wanted to do was celebrate our good fortune, and then celebrate some more.

Much of the rest of the afternoon was spent celebrating, as was the evening, and long in to the night. By this time we knew we were drawn against our old favorites, Old Gold, for the third place playoff, so nobody was going to loose any sleep over that.

The morning dawned clear and bright, and after some burned eggs for breakfast, the reinforcements that met us at the ground that morning were a welcome sight. Fred, John and Jerry McQ had made it back from the day before, and Diesel and Tim McMahon added some welcome strength to our pack.

With all of this extra talent on board Old Gold never really stood much of a chance (do they ever?), and they were rolled pretty convincingly. Not sure how many we scored, but I know they didn't score any, and third place was comfortably ours.

That about wraps it up. Mystics beat up on Charles River for the final the day before, and it looks like North Shore won something for probably yelling the most.

Check out this sight for pictures of our game against Mystics and possible the one against Old Gold soon.

Plumbing new depths of boredom today, I present to you this site. Proof that we humans can find hidden meaning in a random array of letters. From my name I got "vomit longer" - did my parents have a vision of the future when they named me? Spooky.

Practice is on for tonight and Tursday, 6:30pm at Fox Street. Let's get a look at what sort of side we're taking to Bull Moose, and figure out who get's the top bunk.

Before there was Normandy, there was Dunkirk, a sort of D-Day in reverse. It was drawing to a close 64 years ago today. The BEF (British Expeditionary Force) had been chased out of Belgium without any chocolate, and found itself squished up against the French coastline. It took every remotely sea worthy bath tub in the south of England to evacuate some 338,000 troops over nine days, leaving no time to stock up on booze at the duty free shop. Operation Dynamo turned a potentail Allied disaster in to a mere humiliating retreat, and left the French alone to make friends with their new German landlords.

Two years later, on the other side of the world, the Japanese aviation industry suffered a major setback after losing 322 aircraft at the Battle of Midway. Admirals Chester Nimitz and Raymond Spruance out-foxed and out-fought Admiral Nagumo who had earlier commanded the fleet that attacked Pearl Harbor. Instead of the intended death-blow to the U.S. Pacific Fleet he received a major kick in the nuts, and probably had to chop his own head off or something.

Did you know that rugby may be played on grass, sand, clay, aritifical grass or snow, so long as the underlying surface is safe to play on? "It shall not be played on a permanently hard surface such as concrete or asphalt". Whew, glad I knew that. Click here for all you wanted to know about the laws of rugby, but were afraid to ask. Careful though, we might ask you to ref. a B Game.

Want a cool, free game to play on your computer? Check this out. Commissioned by the army as a recruitment tool, it's supposed to make you want to join up. It just makes me want to stay indoors and play video games. Warning, this game carries a high risk of turning you in to a spastic gamer nerd. Huuah!

Sorry it's been so quiet. I've been trying to find the right words to decribe the ignominy of Newport. Let's just say that the warm breezes were absent and the lure of cold beer was a little stronger than that of the soft turf. Excuses abound, but whatever the reasons, we were left to keep Springfield company at the bottom of the table. No offence to Springfield, but hell, that just ain't right.

I won't go in to match reports, since there is little good to report. We lost a scrappy game to Providence, who went on to beat someone else, and get rolled pretty easily by Newport in the final. Then, even with huge measures of referee incompetence working in our favor for once, we still managed to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory aginst Charles River.

In all my years, I have still to play a game on Sunday at NERFU. What is it about Newport that manages to bring out the worst in us?

On this day in history, 1588, the Spanish Armada left Spain with 130 ships and 30,000 men intent on invading England. Their plan was to go down the night before, so they could have a good sleep and show up refreshed. Well, the Spanish being what they are, they all got pissed up on cheap vino and kept each other up all night. Meanwhile the home side got a good night's sleep, and awoke refreshed and ready sink some ships. The bad weather didn't help the queasy Spanish stomachs, and after being chased all around the British Isles, they arrived home later in August with only 67 ships and 10,000 men. The English meanwhile didn't loose a single ship.

Only 15 days to the kick off of Euro 2004. Where you can see all of Europe's best soccer teams in action. England will face their arch rivals...(fill in any other Eurpoean country here). Ireland will play...with themselves, at home, since they didn't qualify. Mwahahahaha! But that's OK, they're in good company, because neither did...er...um...The Faroe Islands, Malta, Lichtenstein, Andorra, and a whole host of other quality footballing nations.

Just let it go already.

Newport beckons with the promise of soft turf, warm breezes and cold beer. Get out, get a life, and get down there. Be at the Park n' Ride at 5am (yes, that's right, 5am) on Saturday morning so you can get there in time for our first match at 9. Once again we are matched against Providence, who we always go toe-to-toe with, so your presence will make a difference.

Accomodations for Saturday night are all set with Willam and Lowie (sp?), and by all accounts their hospitality is legendary. Bring sleeping bags, tents and pj's and you can crash somewhere in or around their house.

Some have said that there is an Anglocentric prejudice to my postings on this site, and to that I just have to say, "that's bloody bollocks!". But, in an effort to recognize contributions to world history by other nations, I have scoured the web for evidence of other civilizations.
On this day in Irish history: it rained.
On this day in American history: Charles Lindberg (1927) and Emelia Earhart (1932) both decide to leave America but accidently land in France and Ireland respectively, and naturally they decide to go back.
On this day in German history: Sixteen year old Otto III was crowned Holy Roman Emperor. That's just a silly name.
On this day in French history: everyone wore skirts.

I rest my case.

Thanks Dom, for posting the match report for Saturday, although I'm not sure why we now have to call him "Long" Jerry McQuenny.

May 18th, sixty-nine years earlier, the former "Interim Administrator" of Arabia, T.E. Lawrence dies from injuries sustained falling off his Brough Superior motorcycle on the backroads around his Dorset home. "Lawrence of Arabia" as he was better known made his reputation while fighting with the Arab troops of Sherif Hussein ibn Ali against the Ottoman Empire during the Great War. Once the Arabian peninsula had been liberated, Lawrence hoped to see a single Arabian nation created, but what do you know, Arabian in-fighting soon cast those hopes asunder.

Wasn't that Carl Marx who said, "history repeats itself, first as tradegy, second as farce..."? If so, then we still have the farce to look forward to.

On to club business. As you may already be aware, we are trying to scare up names of people commited to going to see the Eagles play France in Hartford on July 3rd. Good seats are $42 each, and if we can get 20 or more guys going we get 10% off. Jim Gooch would like you to e-mail him by next Tuesday to let him know if you're in. Expect to cough up the cash a week later.

This Saturday and Sunday is the NERFU Tournament in Newport, RI. At the risk of sounding like a Match Report from the Old Gold Website, good numbers put us in with a great shot of going all the way this year. Worst case, you'll have a hell of a time in the process. So get out to practice this Thursday and shake it like a Polaroid picture.

As Lawrence said:
"All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act their dream with open eyes, to make it possible. "
Finally some validation for not doing any work. Watch out! I'm dangerous.

News link: be sure not to leave the army off your invitation list. They don't take it well.

I'll post a match report as Tom was unavailable with a hitch in his giddy-up over the weekend. In line with Tom's methodology I don't actually remember what the scores were or who scored, though this was due to blunt head trauma rather than excessive alcohol consumption. There were three games on this rather warm day at Amoskeag's nice facility. The Old Boys were up first and pulled off a victory, mostly through tactical kicking, curmudgeonly deception and dim flashes of recollected glory. Losing much of the game, Portland put together a brilliant display of rugby from under their own posts in the waning minutes that showed the extreme depths of the old boys' cunning, field sense and abject laziness. Long Jerry McQueeny clearing kicks; the pack ambling up to collect the line-out; a final scrum 20m out leading to a last spasmodic expenditure of the carefully hoarded energy: a Mike DeSalle pick-up, a Tim MacMahon duct-tape popping scamper and pretty-as-you-like back-line support for a try under the posts. Richard Pfeffer was named Man-of-the-Match for providing the very schwank tent (wait til you check it out) and the beer, as well as for his usual war-horse contributions.

The A-side game was somewhat of a rockfight. The pack did well and Portland scored three or four nice tries from tight play. The centers featured some new faces in Bernie and Pat, who did admirably well. The Amoskeag backs were on song though and carried the day. The evergreen Jerry Alves was his usual warrior self and garnered Man-of-the-Match honors. Joey D made his first visit to the sin-bin for tracking down an opposition player after the whistle to register various concerns on recent occurences. When the ref had the temerity to inquire after the motivation for such blatant head-hunting, Jerry reports that Joey's explanation was "I don't know... I just wanted to get him and hurt him." Note to Joey: while lying is not a good policy, it is considered acceptable to color the truth somewhat in these instances. It's called spin control, brother.

I didn't watch much of the 25 minute B-side game but my general sense was that everyone was knackered and it was a bit of a track-meet to Amoskeag.

The bus ride home was the usual delightful bonding experience, highlighted by many stories that began with that ominous phrase "So there I was..."

I'm still waiting for someone to regale me with tales of courage and endurance from the weekend. You see, I was being a weenie and nursing my ankle, while older and wiser men than me boarded a bus for Manchester to play three games against Amoskeag in ninety degree weather.

So, I wasn't there, so I don't know for sure, but, Alfred, Lord Tennyson wasn't at the Charge of the Light Brigade either when he wrote these stirring words that somehow seem appropriate for the moment:
"Was there a man dismay'd?...
...Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to do and die...

...While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death
Back from the Mouth of Hell...

...When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!"

(full text here)

I do know that the Old Boys won, but when they put on different jersey's and played again they didn't fare so well. After that, who knows?

Well, I proud of all you old bastards!

My lunchtime was put to good use uncovering the Hulk's weblog. He sounds rather like Cookie Monster to me. Could they be related?

Those departing for Manchester tomorrow need to be at the Park 'n' Ride no later than 8am for a prompt departure. OB's kick off at 11am, then they play again at 1pm and then play their third game at 2:30pm. Bring $20 extra to cover your "bus ticket".

I had a bit of a struggle with where to go for today's "lesson from history". Not only was this the day that Israel was founded in 1948, but the Warsaw Pact was also signed in 1955 and in 1804 Lewis and Clark set off up the Missouri River, looking for trouble. On top of that, George Lucas was born, who made a couple of decent movies, including the beloved Star Wars (early vintage). Since then he has fallen in love with CGI and has produced utter crap.

But, topping all these fine examples of human short-sightedness was the 1973 launch of Skylab. During it's 6 years in space, scientist spent more than 700 hours observing the sun, which I think would hurt your eyes a bit. They also brought back some 175,000 pictures of the sun, which must have made for some riveting viewing. Then, in 1979, to most people's surprise, Skylab started to fall out of the sky. Pretty soon 77 tons of radioactive junk were hurtling back to earth, looking for a soft spot to land on. Fortunately, it found one, since most of it fell in the Indian Ocean and Australia, which we all know is uncivlized.

Link for the day goes out to all you cube dwellers. So true it hurts.

Gents, we will be joined after practice tonight by Molly O'Connell of Case Management For Youth, Inc. She will be talking to us about their Youth Mentoring Program and about opportunities to get involved in one-to-one and group mentoring programs. As a group of (ahem) mature, male role models, we have a lot to offer this group. Please be polite, hear Molly out, and think about how you might be able to make a difference.

We need big numbers today for practice since we are looking at three games on Saturday. Make some calls and get people out.

Link of the Day, an oldie but a goodie. It slays me some of the ratings these slappers get.

Just reading Old Gold's match report, and you have to give them credit for seeing their glass as half full. Apparently they had all kinds of "speed and fitness" that they forgot to unleash on us "old units". Woulda, coulda, shoulda...bla, bla, bla.

Hey, they though our B Side had a game plan. Go figure!

Portland RFC 22 Old Gold Rugby 3

Note to self: Don't try to piece together a match report two days after the game. Note to team: next time I'm trying to mooch a drink off you in Fore Play, make sure I've taken down a few details about the game before you hook me up.

Alright, here goes. One thing I do know; it takes more than a fancy new website to play rugby, and Old Gold learned that hard lesson at Fox Street this Saturday. To give them credit, it was a bigger and more physical Old Gold side than we've seen in recent years, but if anything that only serves bring the best out of the Portland boys, who are always up for a bit of push and shove.

At the start of the game both sides were pretty evenly matched, with the home team adjusting to some new faces in their own scrum, and the Old Gold backs trying to string together more than two passes at a time. Keep working on that one lads....

Before long though the Portland pack settled in to their groove, and found themselves with a line-out, five meters out from the Old Gold line. Credit to Leo Caoullette (well, that's how I'm going to spell it), who stepped in at short notice and put his throws on the mark, allowing Portland to take clean ball in this instance, and maul it over the line for the first score. When I looked down it was both Tractor and Jeff Keating with their hands on the ball. $20 from either of you will secure sole credit for that score.

For the next 20 minutes Portland forwards took the game by the scruff of the neck, and soon found themselves on the Old Gold line again. This time Jimmy Hendrix picked up the ball in loose play and was able to bully/wriggle his way over from five yards out. After that, I think a back scored, and I'm going to take a guess that it was Spider, but please feel free to set me straight on that.

Half time brought a couple of substitutions, and as Portland adjusted, the game fell a little flat, and Old Gold were able to get themselves within kicking distance. The home lads gave up the inevitable penalty, most likely for "hands in" or "going over the top", because we're all a bunch of cheaters in the end. Old Gold stepped up and took the three points, thinking that it might somehow give them the impetus to get back in the game. Did they have a Plan B?

Apparently not, since Portland soon regained their compusure, and made sure they only gave away penalties at the other end of the field. More importantly, Portland still had another score in them, and Jeff Keating tells me that this one was all him. If anyone wants to e-mail me and let me know how it all happened, I might even post it.

That was about it for the match, although we should give credit to Old Gold for not doing their usual dissapearing act when they get 15 points down. As we all know, it's NERFU that counts, so let's see which two sides show up down there. "See you in the Azteka", as Bobby Moore said to Pele after England had lost 1-0 to Brazil in the qualifying rounds of the 1970 World Cup. [The Azteka Stadium in Mexico City was to host the final that year, which Brazil made it to, but England sadly did not, thanks to a heartbreaking extra time goal by the bloody Germans in the Quarter Final - who else?]

But I digress. Old Gold were able to redeem themselves a little in the B Game by playing with a passion that was lacking from their A Side performance. Shame it was just the B Game, eh? Final score of that one was probably about 12-5 in their favor, but I'm not sure.

Man Of The Match went to Leo in the A Game for stepping up and getting it done (quietly), and to Bernie in the B Game for continuing to raise his game, and just getting better and better.

That'll do it for now. Practice on Tuesday at the usual time and place. We have a bus to fill on Saturday, so bring your mum.

On an afternoon just such as this, eighty-nine years ago, the ocean liner Lusitania was struck by a German torpedo and was at the bottom of the Celtic Sea within 20 minutes. Almost all the passengers and crew perished, and most significantly, many of them were Americans. Many believe this event precipitated the entry of America in to World War One, and have a sneaking suspicion that the British withheld intelligence about sub activity in the area.

Fact is, the captain of the Lusitania had been given instructions to take evasive counter measures, and the German's had been very open about their intention to attack British ships. It was full steam ahead though for the Lusitania, even though it was carry 173 tons of munitions for the war effort. After the sinking the American government sent not one, but three nasty letters to the Germans, who eventually said they were very sorry, and promised not to do it again.

Within the year though they had sunk an Italian liner, and in 1917 they pushed it too far and sunk the U.S. liner, Housatonic. In March of the same year they sunk four more U.S. merchant ships and Pres. Wilson asked Congress for a declaration of war against them no count Squareheads. And so begun one of several bail-outs of Britain by the U.S., a fact that everyone is kind enough to remind me of on a daily basis.

From this point forward the German's went on bit of a World War losing streak, and to add insult to injury, they lost the 1966 World Cup final to England, 3-1. "Gott in Himmel!", they might have said.

The moral of this tale? Don't make like Germans tomorrow.

Sorry for being so quiet lately. It's been a particularly loathesome week at my insufferable job. I'll make it up to you with this great link and this one forwarded to me by the Prez. Be patient when they're loading. It's well worth the wait.

For those of you who were conspicuously absent from practice tonight, be at Fox Street by 11:30am on Saturday so you can help with field set up etc. Also bring food for after the match. Kick off of the A game will be at 1:00pm.

The national team has named the Eagles for the Super Cup in Tokyo later this month. The nippy halfback from the Wolfhounds looks set for his first cap.

It was brought to my attention that yesterday's blog made no mention of rugby, and was therefore beyond my jurisdiction. My response was that "rugby is life, and life is rugby", thereby leaving me free to post whatever I damn well feel like, see?

Today though, I am all business, and want to start by launching the great PRFC Bumper Sticker contest. I am soliciting (serious) suggestions for a bumper sticker to be created to promote both the club and the game. Since I am funding this little venture, that makes me the sole judge, and all participants agree to be bound by my irrational selection process. If not, then you are free to get your own stickers made. All submissions become the property of PRFC and become elligible for inclusion in all PRFC media. The winner will see their submission immortalized in a sticker that will be seen all over New England, will get a free one themselves, as will all club members who have paid their dues. Players who have not paid their dues can purchase one for five easy monthly payments of $19.99.

So go ahead and e-mail me your suggestions. Extra credit will be given for originality, wit and sucking up. Remember, it has to fit in approx. 4" x 10", so keep it brief. Once it seems like you have all had a go, I will post the best here, along with the ulitmate winner. Hard, sticky copies will follow shortly. Let me start the ball rolling with my own submission, "There's no crying in rugby". Geddit?

Alright, at the time of writing, practice was still on at Fox Street, 6pm. Some old boys may be filtering through as they prep for their game against Amoskeag, so please show them typical PRFC hospitality. Wait...on second thoughts, don't do that.

Lastly, since I will be away from the computer for most of the week, I must give props to the Mexican army of 1862 for sticking it to the French and giving us all reason to get hammered and eat nachos tomorrow. The full and objective account of typical French incompetence can be found here. "Muerte al Frances estupido", as we used to say in college.

May 3rd, 57 years to the day that Japan's post-war "make radios, not war" constitution was enacted. Largely scripted by the U.S., under the guidance of Supreme Allied Commander, Douglas MacArthur, it was full of progressive measures like universal suffrage and a bill of rights. The document even included a clause that outlawed Japan's right to make war. See? it's as easy as that!

Of course, Japan had been at war for five years before being bombed into submission, and it was a further five and a half years before the U.S. was to relinquish control back to the Japanese. Proof that nation building is not a job for the faint of heart.

But without it, there would have been no Iron Chef. Thank-you, Mac.

Not much going on today. No game this weekend, so get out there and get some exercise. Old Gold coming up, and as you can see they've not been resting on their laurels (or their arses). They've played some tough games and will undoubtably in good shape and hungry to repeat their improbable success from last fall. That simply cannot happen.

On a housekeeping front, get your name to Matt Winch for the bus trip to Amoskeag. You know you're going, so just let him know. Dues, dues, dues.

Link du jour. Too depressing to comment on. What a weenie.

I have to send my thanks to Dom for stepping in to the breach with his post yesterday, but like the rest of you, I'm sure you were more than a little taken aback by his questioning of Hawking-Beckenstein entropy. Spend five minutes watching us practice and you would know that there is still way too much entropy in the universe. And to suggest that there would be an upper limit on the future of human consciousness in an expanding universe? Well, I just don't know where to start on that one. Moore's Law rules!

Oh, and practice is tonight @ 6pm. Fox Street.

Jeez, turns out this blogging thing has become a daily requirement. Well, I'm sorry that the muse escaped me yesterday. To compensate I'll throw some poetry your way. That'll teach you.

Today is the birthday of CP Cavafy. This Greek bloke that lived with his mum above an Egyptian brothel and across the street from a church. I dunno. Maybe I'd write poems too.

"In the inner room of the noisy café
an old man sits bent over a table;
a newspaper before him, no companion beside him

and in the scorn of his miserable old age,
he meditates how little he enjoyed the years
when he had strength, the art of the word, and good looks.

He knows he has aged much; he is aware of it, he sees it,
and yet the time when he was young seems like
yesterday. How short a time, how short a time.

And he ponders how Wisdom had deceived him;
and how he always trusted her--what folly!--
the liar who would say, "Tomorrow. You have ample time."

He recalls impulses he curbed; and how much
joy he sacrificed. Every lost chance
now mocks his senseless prudence.

. . . But with so much thinking and remembering
the old man reels. And he dozes off
bent over the table of the café."

So for the love of god, why wouldn't you pay your dues, sign up for that bus trip and go to practice tonight? Life's too short, so while you're at it, bring some money or beer.

Coach sent me the wierdest e-mail with this link. He needs to get out more. I'm just left feeling dirty.

Tom seems to not have anything on the go today, so I'll throw this out there for the forwards -- the backs might find it a bit involved and should probably just stick to this inspirational story.

I don't know about you, but the latest update from our Prez got stuck in my company's Spam filter. Apparently it doesn't feel that words like "your own cash" and "get success" are suitable for consumption. While I agree with not wanting to receive e-mail with the former, it doesn't bode too well if it doesn't let you use the s-word via e-mail. Meanwhile it has no problem with "shady drink-fest". Hmmm...maybe it's not so bad after all.

Anyway, unlike Dubya, our Prez is willing to call a spade, a spade and say that the trip to Amoskeag is a Crusade! Indeed it is, although we fully intend to be out of there by June 30th, with an interim government in place. As a result, many old players have been "activated", and Military Sealift Command has arranged for a bus to carry our brave boys in to action. Your club needs you, so sign up with Matt Winch today for an eighteen-month rotation.

Additional campaigns are planned at NERFU and Bull Moose, and before any of that there is the spectre of Old Gold, so it is imperative that you get out to training. If it ever stops bloody raining, we will be at Fox Street tonight, 6pm.

Speaking of Bull Moose, apparently there will be a "panoply of resort amenities", including horses. But it's not what you think.....apparently you ride them.

Panoply. I think that's my new favorite word.

In my continued quest to scrape up the dregs from the very bottom of the Internet, here is today's offering. It's a panoply of dumb ass stuff.

Some PRFC-SSA pictures from this past Saturday. Not the best, but some do make you wonder what was going on and there are also a couple of CB and his evil twin.

Well, the Maine Collegiate Rugby Championship is now behind us, and those irrepressible Colby Mules have done it again. They overcame some tough resistance to capture both the Men's and Women's titles, on a day perfectly set for their own brand of running rugby. Pictures and a full recapping of the day's events will no doubt be forthcoming on the MCRC Website, but for now I will just send thanks from the club and all present to Dom Tracey for his tireless work in making this event possible, and to all our sponsors, and in particular to Charlie Hews and Hews Truck Bodies and Equipment for their continued financial support.

Portland RFC 24 South Shore Anchors 10

Amidst all the youth and vitality of the MCRC two "grown up" sides took the field in an attempt to show these young shavers a thing or two about how to play rugby. Whether they did or not, or whether anyone was even paying attention, is open to debate, but the two sides enjoyed a spirited encounter in some blustery conditions.

As usually my recollection is limited to a few brief vignettes, and the bucketful of beer afterwards doesn't seem to have helped my memory any. As I remember it the game began at a frenetic pace, and it wasn't long before Portland was pressuring deep in to the South Shore half. It also wasn't long before Andy Nelson found himself in the wrong end of a Tractor sandwich, and as a result he now has a few more bits to his collar bone than the rest of us, and a spare sleeve in most of his sweaters.

In the mean time the Portland pressure paid off with a couple of tries, one for Matt Winch which I don't remember much about (sorry Matt) and another for Shaun Durfee which came from a lineout scrap. Moving at full speed from about ten yards out, there wasn't too much that was going to stop him. South Shore had a few lineout scraps of their own, and they capitalized on some tap ball to string together a few passes and score their first try.

Well, that's enough about them. The second half brought in plenty of fresh legs; some of them even attached to fresh bodies. Portland continued to dominate in the scrum and spent a prolonged period camped on the South Shore line. But there were no Smores (or scores) for the home team, when the inevitable try was disallowed because the ball carrier was apparently held up by some invisible force. But hey, I'm not bitter about that, godammit it!

No matter. The concerted pressure soon paid off when Matt Winch was able to shrug off a couple of tacklers to score his second try. According to Matt his two scores were still one less than he deserved, but hey, maybe he's going to need to get his own blog if he wants to go on about that. So, instead of a hatrick for the Winchenator, Mike Desalle took the bull by the horns and carried it, the ball, and a couple of Anchors over the line for another score, Durfee-stylee.

But those plucky old Anchors never quit, and continued hoisting the ball cleverly in to the swirling winds. This paid off for them when they were able to scoop up a dropped ball and run in it for their second try. Anyway, that's about as much as I can remember of the match, and those of you with conflicting accounts should write them on the back of a twenty dollar bill and send them to me, and I'll make sure that history reflects your philanthropy.

Thanks go to Shaun Durfee and Sarah for their hospitality after the match, and to Joey D. for his entertaining picnic table dismount. I'm afraid that he may have hit his head on the way down, since he was incoherent for the rest of the night.

There. I wrote this whole thing and didn't once refer to them as South Shore Wanchors. Such restraint.

If you thought that our coach was already an angry, young man, then this is sure to send him over the edge. On this day 990 years ago King Brian of Ireland was killed by "tree Vikings fellas" at Clontarf, which I think is a pub outside Dublin. Bloody Vikings! As a result Ireland fell in to anarchy, and some might say that it's remained that way ever since. In true Irish style, they named a pub after their dear king, Brian Boru. And, much like Ireland, it is a very dark and depressing place.

No, really....I kid because I love!

Anyway, lets win one for Brian (and coach) tomorrow. We will be facing the South Shore Anchors, who, if their roster is to be believed, have a few players to resemble the famed Irish giant, Finn mac Cumhail. We'll see about all that.

Once again I'll turn again to that famous non-Irishman, Kipling, for words of inspiration,
"For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack."

Think about it.

You want something to get chippy about? I have seen the future, and it's name is "Kaguya". I think that's Japanese for "men suck" and it's the name of that mouse they created with two mums and no dad! Today mice, tomorrow sheep, and the day after that little girly-men. Well, I guess the best we can hope for is that we get to watch before we get put back in our cages at the zoo.

On a brighter note, this weekend is the 3rd Annual Maine Collegiate Rugby Championship, where some of the brightest minds in Maine come together to get concussed. Here are some approximate directions for you (go to Fairgrounds Road). This will be a veritable carnival of rugby, although arguably it will be missing the sideshow freaks and deep fried Twinkies, so you are welcome to bring your own. That action starts at 9am and runs all day, including a game for Portland Youth Rugby and our own side against South Shore Anchors. So come on out to Cumberland County Fairgrounds and revel in this celebration of higher learning and the benefits of a liberal arts degree - do you want fries with that?

Oh god, there goes my afternoon....

When I said that all "brawlers" were welcome at practice last night, I was speaking in the vernacular. Apparently some of you took me literally. Either that or you got bit in the arse by a radioactive spider.

Eighty-six years ago today Manfred von Richthofen joined the big dog-fight in the sky. The Red Baron had 80 kills to his name, making him the most prolific arial ace on either side of the Western Front. But even the baddest m.f.'s get their day, and the Baron was no exception. Shot down by an Australian gunner behind enemy lines, he ploughed a nearby field with his trademark Fokker triplane. His body was recovered by the British and buried with full military honors, but he was dead nonetheless, at the tender age of 25. Aint that Karma a bitch?

For those of you looking to gain some insight from last night, I present the following. For the rest of you, might I suggest this. Thusday at Fox Street, 6pm. Let's play nice, K?

It 's Tuesday, April 20th, 102 years to the day that Marie Curie isolated radium in her shed. 32 years later she was gone, victim to leukemia. The moral: science is bad. The only good thing we ever got from radium was that spider that bit Peter Parker and turned him in to Spiderman.

So, anyway, it's a minty fresh day, perfect for practice. All ballers, shot-callers, brawlers etc. should be at Fox Street @ 6pm. Playa-haters not welcome.

Also, I am pleased to announce that my worshipers have crowned me Grammar God, thanks to this fiendish little quiz. See if you can join me on my cloud, or must continue your puny mortal existence. Bow low down at the wrath of my split infinitive! Mwahahahahahahaha!

Oh, yeah, and I also rated the Perfect Girlfriend on this one. It's going to be a good day, sistahs!

It's the weekend, and there's no game, so it's up to you to get in as much real-life training in as possible. Try repeatedly jumping off the roof, eat a bowl of macaroni with ketchup, drink a case of beer and fall asleep on the hood of your car. This should give you that familiar Sunday paralysis.

I dunno about you, but my world was rocked by this news. Another blow to the economy. It's going to be a long 60 days....

As suspected, we are washed out tonight, so hit the pavement/treadmill/bike/all-you-can-eat buffet by youself. Weather permitting we will be at Fox Street on Thursday @ 6pm.

A little iPod humor for your rainy Tuesday afternoon.

Boston Irish Wolfhounds B 20, Portland 17

Sporting more grey hair than an episode of the Golden Girls, a creaky Portland side took the field last Saturday looking to shake off some cobwebs against a spritely, young collection of Irish contenders. After previous false starts to the season, a glorious day beckoned along with the opportunity to feel grass underfoot for the first time this year.

I've never been particularly good at remembering much of a game, let alone keeping score, and this was no exception. I could've sworn the game was all tied when the final whistle blew, but the ref. told me otherwise. Were it not for letting them have a do-over on one of their penalties, this may still have been the case.

No matter. There was much to take heart from in this outing. Line-out dominance continued, and there were many additional yards gained through effective mauling. On the whole the back line looked exceptionally crisp, and our two tries came from set peices that were executed at pace. It's funny. It looks like they're always just standing around at practice, but it looks as though they must have worked on a few moves. Lastly, given the pace of the Irish side there was also some very effective defence being played, shutting down a few try scoring opportunities.

On the negative side, scrums were more than a little squirrelly, and didn't always provide a solid base from which to attack. "Connectivity" between backs and forwards is still an area for work, and just generally stringing together a few more passes in open play. All things that can be fixed though, so onward and upward.

Props to Joey Team and Matt Winch for their respective tries and to Andy Nelson for his perfect kicking (two cons., one pen.) As far as I could tell on Saturday evening, everyone emerged from this opening encounter unscathed, other than Scotty T-H's usual 30 second cameo in the B game.

Practice is scheduled for this Tuesday at 6pm on Fox Street, although rain is forecast so the City might have other ideas. Watch this space.

Gents, rain stopped play on the weekend, so nothing to report on that front.

The scheduled practice at Fox Street tonight is cancelled due to residual dampness, but those of you looking to work of your excess energy, can still meet there @ 6pm at run hills with J-Wil before retiring to the bar to watch some rugby.

Other than that, it's Joker's at the usual time. 9:30pm on Thursday. See you there.

And so it comes down to this....all that hard work on the couch will now be put to the test. Meet at the Park & Ride at 9am Saturday morning, and/or follow these directions. I could type them all out for you, but really, if you made it this far you oughta be able to click that link.

As the season kicks of, I'll leave you with the immortal words of Rudyard Kipling;
"If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"...

...If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixy seconds of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everthing that is in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!"

Of course, there's eighty unforgiving minutes...

I promised myself I wasn't going to post anything today. I mean, nothing much happens in a day with no practice. Even the usual exec. e-mail chatter has been quiet today. This blogging thing is getting out of hand.

Anyway, the opinions expressed in the following link are not those of the club, it's players or executive committee. Of course, those of you of a mind to keep score on these things, please write and tell me. The winner might just get a mention. Spider. There, I already saved myself the trouble.

I thought I'd let you know about attendance on Saturday as a flimsy excuse to post a new link that will just help the week fly by. Anyway, numbers were bolstered by some new talent all the way from Bridgeton Academy. This bodes well, given that some of the rest of you old geezers who live much closer to the beach didn't make it. I hope that catching up on Digimon was worth it.

So now just one practice lies between us and actual competition. I hope you're all comfortable that your couch-based calisthenics routine will have you adequately prepared. In case you're a little wobbly on this, you might want to drag yourself along to practice this Thursday, to find out what the rest of us have been up to. Just a thought.

Now, about that link. This ought to resonate with you married guys, or those of you in committed long term relationships with other members of the club.

Expect plenty of sand, sun and fun at the beach tomorrow at 9:30 am. OK.....maybe just plenty of sand.

You know...life is like a ruck (kinda). When it all goes according to plan, you've got your mates around you to support you and the ball comes out on your side. But sometimes you just want it so badly that you find yourself on the wrong side, and all you can do is cover up your soft fleshy parts and go to your happy place. If you like, I can show you life's stud marks on my back, but my guess is that you'd rather not. Nevertheless, I can tell you that each one taught me a lesson, and that beats giving up a penalty, any day.

Are you feelin' me?