Under New Management

So, all the speeches have been made, the soap boxes stacked away, and we can close the books on the AGM for another year. So OK, yeah, maybe in previous years it might have been possible to hold the annual club vote-up in a phone booth, but not this year. Last Tuesday we had at least a full side, with a couple of subs at half-time, and a healthy debate was guaranteed.

Under Old Business, a quick review of the club finances confirmed that our crack habit has gotten way out of hand, and that we are going to have to start stealing money out of our mum's purse to help make ends meet. While income was on a par with previous years, the lousy climate and my penchant for shiny polyester ensured that we blew all that we had and more on indoor training facilities and fancy foreign kit. Nevertheless, the results speak for themselves; a successful Fall season, with the team never having looked so dashing.

Anyway once that depressing news was out of the way, it was on to the more animated part of the evening, namely, the elections. First up was President, and with Fred stepping down to attend to his new family, Jerry McQueeny was elected in an uncontested race. Jerry ran on a platform of major fundraising and spending ever more time out of the house. He made a good start on the scratch-front with a significant financial pledge already in the bag, so I can only assume his kids will have forgotten his name by this time next year.

Secretary was next in rotation, and another uncontested race, with yours truly getting by with another year's undetected crime. So far, so good. Efficiency - 2; Democracy - Nil.

Treasurer almost promised to offer our first contest with both Al Parks and Ed Lutjens being nominated, but the discussion was short lived and Al now has the difficult task of cutting up the credit cards and cancelling our charge account at Neiman Marcus. I guess those Manolo Blahnik rugby cleats will have to wait another year.

Nevertheless, we were making good progress and it looked as though we would be in the pub by 7:30.

The position of Captain however proved to be a little more time consuming, with three nominees being put forward: the incumbent, Jason Willey; Hannes Bouwer and myself. After a brief cross-examination of each candidate by the electorate we were banished upstairs to wait for the white smoke. Hannes got an early reprieve, no doubt for being too fit and too talented, so that left Jay and I to sweat it out. After some interminable debate and a close run vote, it ended up that I would "assume the position" for the coming year.

Joking aside, before going any further I need to stop and recognize the great effort and sacrifice made by both Jason and Fred in the past year. Twelve months ago they were at the helm of a club that was at possibly the lowest ebb in its history. A good time to cut and run, you might think. But instead, these guys stepped up and slowly but surely they were able to turn things around and restore dignity and self-belief to the club and to the team. As a servant of the club myself, I am under no illusions about the gritty and unglamorous nature of their task. We owe them all a huge debt of gratitude.

So, anyway, pathos aside, the mathmaticians amongst you may have notice that someone now had two jobs, and that just ain't good for business. Fortunately Ed came to the rescue and agreed to relieve me of all my secretarial duties, minus the blogging, which was pretty much all there was to begin with. So, in order to give him something to sink his teeth in to, it was decided to roll up the duties of Fixture Secretary with regular Secretary, to make some kind of uber-Secretary, complete with lazer heat vision. As mentioned, I still get to vent, er...I mean, update you on club events, largely because real therapy wasn't covered under my insurance on account of a "pre-existing condition".

But I digress. The only other electable position for the night was Selector, and three able candidates were put up in Jerry A., Matt and Fred. After a brief debate, Jerry got the nod, and thus the voting was brought to a close. After that, a few other subjects such as fundraising and recruitment were discussed, but only in a half-hearted kind of way, since most people seemed ready to pack it in and get a drink. As in most years, a bunch of people volunteered to help out in these areas, usually hoping that there names will have been forgotten by the time the next AGM rolls around. I'll spare them any ignominy but not publishing their names here.

My own notes started to get a little sketchy by this point of the evening, and after a brief discussion about our new closer relationship with the women's team, it was decide to leave the finer points of this and pretty much every other issue to the Exec. and head off down the boozer. A motion to close was made, and I don't think I heard the "second" under all the noise of scraping chairs.

New Arrival

Belated congratulations are due to Fred and Melissa Hayman on the arrival of their bouncing new baby girl, Melanie Jean Hayman. She arrived on November 22nd, and from what I hear she's a real night-owl (just like her dad).

Could it be that Fred has aspirations for her daughter to play a little tennis, since Melanie Jean shares the same birthday as Billie Jean King? And Boris Becker for that matter. Better still, she might be an actress, given that Jamie Lee Curtis, Mariel Hemingway and Scarlett Johansson were also born on the 22nd. Other notables include George Eliot, Charles de Gaulle, Rodney Dangerfield and Steve Van Zandt.

The 22nd was of course also the anniversary of JFK's assassination, not to mention the death-ivesary of Aldous Huxley, Jack London, Blackbeard the Pirate and Michael Hutchence.

On a cheerier note, it was also the day in 2003 that England won the Rugby World Cup and the day in 1990 that Margaret Thatcher resigned as Prime Minister. Howard Carter found Tutenkhamun's tomb, the Nazis are surrounded in Stalingrad, the Beatles released the White Album, Lebanon gained independence from France, and the first scheduled Concord flies from London to New York. Phew!

Last, but by no means least, November 22nd is the first day of Saggittarius, the Archer, who apparently is philosophical, fun loving and adventurous.

Welcome, Melanie Jean.

Gallery

Stripers - May 07

Holmes Chapel

NERFU 2006

2005 Banquet

Wolfhounds Final '05

North Shore Semi '05

Rutland - September '05

Harvard Business School - September '05

North Shore - September '05

Old Gold - August '05

North Shore - April '05

Beach Party - '05

NERFU Tourney '05

Lobster Dip - '05

Seacoast - Spring '05

A few artsy pictures

Seacoast 2002

More Seacoast 2002

More Seacoast 2002

Chicago Blaze 2003; NERFU

Amoskeag 2003; Booze Cruise w/ Navigators

2003 Attitash Bull Moose Rugby Tournament

Gimme an 'A', Gimme a 'G', Gimme an 'M'

…put it all together and you get your once-a-year opportunity to decide who’s going be annoying the league, giving the speeches, picking the teams, writing the blogs and bugging you for dues next year.

Everyone with aspirations for public office, an interest in the club or who just has a hard-on for democracy should attend, since it is your future being discussed. There are a million other clichés about why you need to get out and vote, but MTV already stole them all.

Any of you with (serious) issues you want to raise or bright ideas you want to put forward (and follow through on) are encouraged to contact me ahead of time so I can add you to the agenda.

Other highlights include:
· A review of the club’s financial statements (including naming names on who still owes us)
· One-million-and-one good ideas to raise money (and why they fail)
· The “who doesn’t have a job yet?” associate club rep. electathon
· A report from last years associate club reps. (blink and you miss it)
· Girls who are hot for a guy who exercises his prerogative
· By-law trivia bingo
· Your chance to say “I second that”, like you’re somebody
· “Proxy” jokes

…and many more back-room, political machinations.

One City Center is the location, and Tuesday Nov. 29th (next Tuesday) at 7pm is the designated time.

Choose or loose.

Grrrrr…..curse you MTV!

I gots your jersey but I don't gots your money. How come?

Blingy New Jersey
Originally uploaded by PRFC Sec..

At long last the first order of extra team jerseys is here, and I'm just aching to get them to you. But not before you've coughed up forty large.

Fix it with the button below, and meet me at Gritty's this Thursday @ 6:30 to complete the transaction (or you can pay me cash on the night, but e-mail me at least to let me know you're coming).

Prize Patrol.

Fred cheers on the winners.
Originally uploaded by PRFC Sec..

This past Saturday saw the 2005 Season lain to rest with the annual banquet, held at the Portland Harbor Hotel. Many thanks go to Jerry McQueeny for arranging the event, and give or take a few deadbeat members of the women’s team yet to pay, we may even have covered our costs. Hmmmm…..me thinks this Jerry fellow shows management potential.

Attendance at the banquet is usually a good barometer of the club’s fortunes, and if this year’s numbers are anything to go by, then 2006 looks set fair, with plenty of new faces to bolster those old and wizened ones of year’s past.

In addition to all the merriment, there were speeches made and awards awarded, both serious and not so much. For those of you unable to attend, or just too drunk to remember any of it (Spyder), I’ll try to recap for you here.

President, Fred Hayman, kicked off the proceedings with a few choice words about the high points of the year, of which there were more than usual, and talked about our prospects for the coming season, that would include D3 Playoffs and a possible move back to D2.

Fred then handed the mic. over to our coach, Mike Quinlan, who began to wax lyrical about how the team is more of a club and how that club is more of a community, and about how it takes a village….and some other stuff that nobody could follow. Several hours later (or so it seemed) he moved on to the main event, namely the three big awards, Most Improved, Biggest Contribution and MVP.

First up was Most Improved Player, which went to Tractor (aka Jason Henry) for pushing himself all season and raising his game to a new level. Those of you who remember Tractor as only having a good 20 minutes in him, will now be impressed to know that he is now good for 25 or 28 minutes. No, really, I kid. He stepped up big. Well deserved Tractor.

Next, the Biggest Contribution went to Ed Lutjens for playing the (only?) responsible adult all season. Ed was always on hand with clean kit, a trash bag for empties and a cooler full of cold ones. He gave a lot and asked for little in return. A model citizen.

MVP went to the quiet Afrikaner, Hannes Bouwer, who's nose for the line was reflected by his impressive try count this Fall, despite suffering a fractured elbow and missing the last three games. He was also one of the few people never to talk back to coach, which is something I'm sure he'll grow out of.

With the serious stuff out of the way, we moved on to the less serious awards, presented by that peerless comedy duo, Andy Nelson and Jimmy Hendricks.

First on the hit list was Tractor, who picked up the "Golden Sharpie" for his T.O. like moves and try zone celebrations. If he continues in T.O.'s footsteps, expect him to very shortly tell us how we all suck and then get suspended from the team.

Jeff Keating received a new set of crayons and a Winnie The Pooh book of colors to help him decipher the penalty plays. But don't worry Jeff, once you get the hang of them, we're sure to change them all again next year.

Next, Dean Hardy got a little help with his wardrobe, since he is soon to audition as the sixth Backstreet Boy. The drunken, Irish one, presumably.

Fred Hayman was presented with his own signed 8" x 10" glossy of the Seacoast Team, confirming his worst conspiracy theories about how the whole league was plotting against us all season. But as you know, Fred didn't take it lying down, and made himself a complete pain in the arse all year to any league officials he could get in contact with. Us against the world, right Fred?

Speaking of pains in the ares, Ed picked up his second award of the night when he received his proctology diploma for his emergency, on-field examination of an Old Gold player's prostate. "Slightly inflamed" was the diagnosis.
Insert your own arse joke here.

Yours truly received a newly created Nobel Prize for web literacy. So newly created in fact that they seem to have forgotten to mail the check for ten million Kronor. Tight Swedish gits!

Francis got his Oscar for recovering from so many apparently career ending injuries this season, and gave (mercifully) a very short acceptance speech.

Coach got his own bobble head doll, although I can't remember what that was for. It was funny though.

Jason Willey once again refused to relinquish his grip on the La-La Concussion Trophy. "Out of my cold dead hands!". Quite literally, possibly.

And last, but by now means least, we turned to the scriptures to read the prophecy that predicted the second coming of Carlos. We'll if there was anyone left who wasn't already going to hell before that, I think we've got you covered.

Whew, what a night, what a hangover. Thanks to all who made it out on the night, and sorry to all who missed it. Click on the picture above to see more shots from the night.

Brother Wolf

Alright, we can all be guilty of a little rush of blood from time to time. When I made that last post I was seething, and I may have lashed out at the Wolfhounds in an indiscriminate way. Since then I have been reliably informed that there is no Derek Warden on the Wolfhounds, and never has been. Indeed, I checked the CIPP rolls, and there is no one by that name registered with any club.

Sunday’s game will linger in the memory for a long time to come, not so much for the result (for us, at least), but for the passion with which it was played, by both sides. If you had been there, you’d know.

So, sorry to all the decent Wolfhounds out there that I may have offended, and Derek, whoever you are, sorry you missed it.

Right. Let’s move on.

The Annual PRFC Banquet will be held this Saturday at the Portland Harbor Hotel, and since Jerry McQ has mortgaged the club in order to pay for it, it is up to you to make sure you bring your wife, mum, dad, aunty, goldfish along to make up the numbers. Anyone with $30 to their name is welcome, anyone with more is more welcome. There will be speeches, awards and maybe even a few jokes along the way, and the drunker you are, the funnier they'll be. After the keg runs out a cash bar is on hand, so a little extra cabbage is advisable. Ticket money upfront is greatly appreciated, so click here to settle up.

Awwwh, ya had to be a jerk about it.

Well, as you all probably know by now the Wolfhounds had the last word this weekend, beating us in the final, 16-8. After we rolled over North Shore in the semi, Sunday's game was a war. Physical might be an understatement, and played at a breakneck pace. Truely both sides gave it their all. The Irish bought their kicking shoes and thanks to a couple of extra penalties and a conversion, they came out on top. No hard feelings on the day, the Irish fought hard, and deserved the result.

Now that the dissapointment has worn off, I was all set to write something contrite, and maybe even throw in a little philosophy about the nature of winning and losing. It was a hard knock to our team spirit, and speaking personally, it was going to take a while to find the motivation to start all over again.

But all that has gone out the window, thanks again to another message that was sent to the club. I don't know who this bloke is, or if he even played on Sunday, but I'll print his message here, verbatim, just in case you all need a reminder of why we play:

Name: derek warden
e-mail: cuervoboy@aol.com
Comments: Well, well, well. We haven't heard much from the Portland Football Club since their defeat at the hands of the Wolfhounds. I suppose their mouths are full of craw at the moment.

Let this be a lesson to you gentlemen. Don't antognize your opponent before a big match.

Mr. Wolf

Well, Derek, thanks for the kick up the arse. The day I'm afraid to throw a few barbs on the website before a game is they day I hang up my boots. I'm sure you'll have got the rest of my teammates equally motivated, and I think I speak for all of us when I say that I can't wait for your next pearls of wisdom before the re-match we'll undoubtedly play in the Spring. Thanks for reminding us what a pleasure it is doing business with the Wolfhounds.

Since Derek was kind enough to leave his e-mail, I hope you'll all feel free to contact him and thank him in your own personal way.

Oh, Wolfie, where's the love gone?

I received a nice note yesterday through our “info” link on the website, otherwise known as the “anonymous-vent-your-spleen-at-Portland-therapy-portal”. The note was from someone calling him or herself “Wolfie” and in essence it took umbrage at my having characterized the Wolfhounds backline as “all universe” and went on to point out that more than half their tries had come through their forwards.

Well, let me start by saying that the note came as a nice change from the usual “Portland sucks, Seacoast will win D3” messages I’ve been getting all season, which presumably are either coming from Bob Winchester or our own coach. What’s more, the note was not in the least bit offensive, and ended with “Good luck this weekend and we hope to have the opportunity to even the score in a hard, honest and well-played match.” As do we all, my friend, and I thank-you for displaying the manners that are all too rare in anonymous hate mail these days.

So, on to the crux of Wolfie’s complaint, about that little “all universe” comment. Let me start by saying that we here on the PRFC editorial staff strive for journalistic excellence, and while the Pulitzer may have eluded us so far, we remain hopeful. Having said that, we are in the business of “driving traffic” (that’s an industry term), and from time to time we may employ what we journos fondly call “creative license”, or as you regular folks like to call it “lying”.

Now this may come as a shock to some our devoted readers (both of you), but it is true that in some cases we may have been economical with the truth in the interest of getting a laugh, riling the opposition or taking cheap shots at the league. Nowhere did we lay any claims to being “fair and balanced”. But, of the many whoppers told on this site, this “all universe” comment seems to me to be one of our more minor infractions.

To this end, I would like to present to the court (of public opinion) Exhibit A, which is the BIW’s own match report for their game against North Shore. I would like to draw the jury’s attention to the penultimate paragraph, and the offending line, “Our backs were far superior (and, if this backline plays again, is one of the best in the country)”.

Ah-ha, the smoking gun!

Now true, this does not say “all universe”, but Wolfie’s note claims, “no one from the B.I. Wolfhounds intimated that our backline was ‘all universe’”. So, not being the scholarly type, I looked up this word ‘intimated’ in the dictionary, and it turns out that the primary definition was, “to make known subtly and indirectly; hint”.

Now true, I did not mean that the BIW’s backs were really “all universe” since most of the other known planets have a hard time sustaining life, let alone fielding a decent backline. I was, in fact, simply employing...altogether now...creative license. However, it does seem to me that the BIW’s match reporter did wish to make known subtly and indirectly (ahem!) that their backline was very, very good, and the term “all universe” seemed best suited to paraphrase his own creative license.

So, Wolfie, don’t get me wrong, in my comment I was not seeking to belittle the efforts of the BIW forwards, but merely to make light of what just might have been a little hyperbole employed in your match report. Your backs are good, and so are ours, so are Seacoast’s, and even North Shore is capable of a few moves. That’s why we’re all at the big show, and soon we’ll get to strut our stuff in front of the Eagles selectors who will now no doubt be on the touchlines.

So please don’t take offense, and have a good time this weekend, and remember that just like charity, journalistic integrity starts at home.

No further questions, your honor.

Well that really sorted things out

Well, the Playoff round has come and gone, and are we any wiser?

Seacoast beat MIT 16-0.

Mountaineers forfeited to North Shore.

The Wolfhounds beat "team to be determined" (which was, I think, Middlesex) 35-5.

Rutland (and everyone below them) forfeited to Portland.

So there you have it. A real ding-dong weekend. That sets it all up for the Final 4 at Attitash this weekend.
On Saturday Portland plays North Shore, and Seacoast plays the Wolfhounds. The winners of each meet on Sunday for all the marbles.

Practice makes perfect, so make sure you get out there and get some. Riverton, 6-8pm, Tuesday & Thursday.

Money, Money, Money!

Let's recap. Right now there are about a hundred different things that the club needs your money for, so here's a little summary to ease the parting with your hard earned scratch.

Club Jerseys

I am reliably informed by my man in Argentina that the jerseys you all ordered will be on their way next week, and right now only about three people have paid. Click here to get it out of the way. $40 each.

Banquet

To pull this off Jerry needs numbers and he needs cash. Even fewer people have paid for the banquet. Get on it. $30 each please.

Indoor Practice

Some of you (Matt Boyer) never gave me $5 to help off set the cost of training at Turfs on Thursday. Be a stand up guy and put that to rights.

Donations

If you've got any money left over, click here to get rid of it. You'll find being pennyless so liberating.

Dues Subscription Program

Get a jump on next year's dues by signing up for our payment plan of $16.67 each month. Less than the cost of your crack addiction.

Whaa! I don't wanna play Portland!

Thanks to NERFU and their gay, “everyone’s a winner” D3 playoff system, the season endures it’s most pointless weekend, where the “haves” go back and remind the “have nots” just what their missing out on.

The Wolfhounds and their “all-universe” backline will take on Middlesex. Seacoast will take on MIT (again). The only other competitive team in the league, Mad River, is on double-secret probation. And in the one game that might actually be too close to call, North Shore hike up to the Mountaineers for the battle of 4th vs. 5th seed.

Meanwhile, we are left to twiddle our thumbs this weekend, because surprise, surprise, the 8th seed in this lopsided league doesn’t really feel like coming to Portland again for another hiding, and to be honest, who can blame them? In another shocking turn of events, at least perhaps to the league, the 9th, 10th and 11th place teams didn’t actually fancy playing us either.

All this has me asking myself just why D3 is the only NERFU men’s league to put itself through this pointless end-of-season ritual?

In professional sports, more games equals more revenue, so I could understand the need to protract the season as long as possible, just like the NBA. But, in the dirt track rugby that we all play here in D3, more games usually equals more money lost. I know Seacoast have blown money on forfeited matches at Amesbury, we’ve laid out our own share for buses and practice fields, and I would guess that most of the sides in the league have experienced “negative cash-flow” with every game.

Consider the poor referees too. The league has made it crystal clear that there is a chronic shortage of refs so, once again, why put them through another week of one-sided matches and dodging projectiles?

My guess is that the logic is, or was, that in a geographically dispersed league such us ours, asking everyone to play everyone else would be too much of a strain, and the only way to find out the best side is to have a shorter season to separate the goats from the sheep, and then have all the goats play each other for the top spot. But, with eight sides making the playoffs, it appears we have a few sheep in goats clothing (how’s that for a mixed metaphor?).

True, an 11 game schedule would suck, especially for the side that draws road trips to Albany, Mad River and the Mountaineers (no offense guys, but you caan’t get theyah from heeyah). But it begs the question of why are there 12 teams in D3 to begin with?

Again, back in the day, when D3 was created that was probably the only place to put the wannabe’s and also-rans that we all are. Now however, thanks to the growth of rugby as the thinking-man’s contact sport, it looks as though there are at least a handful of respectable clubs looking for a game in D4. Couple them with the bottom four clubs from D3, and they’d have themselves a nice little league going on. That leaves D3 as a proper 8 team league, with a 7 week schedule, undisputed winners and no need for inter-league playoffs (just like D1 and D2).

Now all this might sound a bit like sour grapes from a side that wants things to end just the way they are. I’m sure Seacoast and the Wolfhounds still think they have a shot, bless ‘em, and no doubt they’re grateful for the playoffs. But, I’m also guessing that as they run up the score on MIT and Middlesex they’ll be wondering what this weekend was all in aid of. At the very least we could have all been getting on with the semi-final games to set up the D3 Dog’s Dinner Bowl for next week.

Well, as they say, opinions are like…., well, they’re not hard to come by, and I don’t consider myself a genius for having pointed out the flaws in D3 (there are other reasons why I do though), and for NERFU to have had some foresight may have been too much to hope for. But let us all pray that, whoever wins it this year, NERFU listens to the clubs and fixes this dopey system for good.

Thursday Practice

This Thursday's practice has been moved indoors, to Turfs (aka Jokers) from 7pm to 9pm. Be there promptly to take full advantage of the time, since it ain't cheap. Also, be prepared to cough up some scratch to off set the bill.

All I know about the weekend is that it's Saturday at 1pm, hopefully at Fox Street. It looks like Rutland have already pulled out, so we're trolling the depths of the league to find some other opposition.

Banquet

Whatever happens for the rest of the season, you're going to want to get together at the end and spin a few yarns about it all, and you're going to want to wear a tie while you're doing it, and that's why we have the banquet.

This year Jerry McQueeny is chairman, secretary, treasurer and entire staff of the banquet organization committee, and since he's a card-carrying grown up, it's sure to be a bang up affair. November 12th is the designated date and the Portland Harbor Hotel is willing to let us in their broom closet for a few hours, from 7 onwards.

Clear your diaries, clip on your tie, rent a girlfriend or dust off the wife, it's going to go off, for $30 per head.

For those of you who like to get paying for things out of the way early (ha! ha! ha! as if!), here's a helpful little button you can click. Cheers Al.

Middlesex-ual disfunction

On the face of it, Saturday's resounding win over Middlesex was just the way to end the season. A scoreline of 45-5 with all cylinders firing, gracious and hospitable hosts, and a bus full of beer and song. A genuine good night out with the lads.
Truely, the Amesbury facility is one sweet setup, and despite some initial misgivings about the artificial turf, even that turned out to be a pleasant experience.

As we arrived at the ground Seacoast was just wrapping up their demolition of the Mountaineers, which literally seemed like a case of men against boys. However, when you take that young team, add a dash of Portland Old Boys, a splash of Portland B's and simmer over stiff breeze you have more than a match for Seacoast Old Boys. Tim McMahon and Greg Hogan flew the flag for the senior contingent up front, while Ed and Marcos whipped the young backline into shape. Matt and Leo also pitched in to add some backbone. I've no clue what the final score was, but I'd say that the Portland/Mountaineer/Potsdam U. side came out comfortably on top.

After that, it was on with the lights, and on with the main event. Portland came out confidently, and for the first period at least they were disciplined and well drilled. The scoring opened quickly, with Matt Boyer touching down off a line out, and this was quickly followed when Tom Zabriskie scored his first try for the club off a nice pass from Jerry Alves. Andy made his first conversion of the night, starting a pretty prolific 5-of-7 night.

It wasn't too long before Portland threatened again, as they mauled their way close before Tractor broke loose and touched down in the corner. Freddy was next up, breaking through the Middlesex line and covering more than half the pitch to touch down under the post. Andy does the business, and it's 24-0.

Then Middlesex went and spoiled the party with a sneaky little try of their own, peeling round the front of a lineout after a short, oh yes, very short throw, and touching down in the corner. At the restart however Portland soon re-applied the pressure, so much so that Middlesex were forced to do something illegal (the exact nature of which I can't recall) and gave up a penalty try, 31-5.

As the first half drew to a close the level of yap from Portland began to increase, rivalling a bunch of Kindergartners who haven't had outside recess in a month. One of the problems of having so much experience on the side is that it becomes hard for everyone to resist the temptation to share their experience with everyone, on every occaision. But hey, that's enough of my own whining. Despite all the yelling, Portland managed a couple more scores in the second half, with Dean scoring a breakaway try of his own and Freddy closing out the night with his second. Andy ices them both, and that all adds up to 45. More yelling, more flinging the ball about, but no more scores.

Thanks to Middlesex for putting up with us at their drink up, and thanks to the bus driver for his patience. Massive props to Jeff Keating for grinding his axe all the way home and for being able to deliver at least four bars of just about any song that was yelled at him.

Playoffs start next week, and as of the time of writing, it looks like Rutland will be the opposition (again). As you may remember, they've already made the trip to Portland once this season, and I'm guessing the road is going to seem even longer this time. Stay tuned for official confirmation of Saturday's opposition.

Caravan Of Love

…brotherly love, that is.

This Saturday promises to have a festive air about it, thanks in no small part to the large prescription of bustrip that has been prescribed to all for our trip to Amesbury (FDA Warning: side effects may include nausea, vomiting, blurred vision, tone deafness, sleeping in the spare room, “bus itch”, amnesia and loss of dignity). The ride promises to be a good one as the Old Boys join us and share their wisdom and war stories. I’m sure you’ll agree that this’ll make a nice change from the wisdom and war stories shared by the regular old geezers who play for us.

Once at the ground the rugby will already be in full swing, with our old pals Seacoast taking on the Mountaineers and no doubt leaving right afterwards for an early night. A few of the older ones should be allowed to stay up late though, as they mingle with our own Old Boys for some kind of kick around scheduled for 4pm.

Then comes the headliner at 5:30, when the Portland boys take on Middlesex Barbarians (What’s in youer wallet?) under the lights and seek to finish the regular season with a clean sheet. It’s been many a year since the club has had something to smile about, and even if it did taking getting sent down to D3 to get here, there is a true sense of history in the making. So, just like Woodstock, Game 7 of last year’s ALCS, the ’66 World Cup Final and that time Joey fell off the picnic table, do you want to hear about it from others for years to come or do you want to say “I was there”?

Be at the "real" Park 'n' Ride across from Bally's at 1:30pm and bring $20 on top of your regular pocket money to help pay for your prescription.

Cake

a wind has blown the rain away and blown the sky away
and all the leaves
away, and the trees stand.

i think, i too, have known autumn too long.

e.e. cummings
(Seacoast scrum half, 1922-1935)

Yesterday Portland played hosts to the only other undefeated team in the league, Seacoast, in the penultimate regular league fixture. Once again the fixture was shifted to the Cumberland Fairgrounds, on account of all this beautiful weather we've been having. Not that it should have mattered to Seacoast all that much, since this had been the site of their Spring-time victory, and one of the lower points in PRFC history.

Indeed, the wind was in the process of blowning pretty much everything away, so Portland took advantage of the Pulling Shed once more for their warm up. We shall miss ye sheddy, and your drafty, horse sh*t covered comforts. But, despite the rustic surroundings, the home team took the field warmer than the hardy spectators, and seemingly warmer than the visiting side. Whatever the excuses, Seacoast came out flat, allowing Portland to dominate the first quarter of the game and rack up 17 unanswered points. Early scores went to Hannes and Tractor as the forwards picked up where they left off against the Wolfhounds. This time however the backs got in the act as well, swinging the ball through several pairs of hands for Dan Joyce to touch down in the corner.

By then Seacoast were starting to show signs of life, with their pack running hard off the fringes as they sought to create room for their backs. Unfortunately they didn't need too much room for their nippy winger to get up steam and score their first points of the game. Portland responded with another try before half time, this time from Jeff Keating, as he iced another period of strong forward play. 22-5 at the half.

Half time saw a couple of substitutions, and then the action resumed with both sides exchanging tries. True to form on both sides, they scored another break-away, and we ground another one out through the forwards. Yours truly got that one. 27-12.

Portland started to get lazy and Seacoast sensed their opportunity, piling the pressure on. At this point Jeff Keating picked up a yellow card for some kind of tackle infringement, that left Portland spread thin, not to mention in shock that such a fine upstanding pillar of the community should commit such an act. To think that during the week Jeff is shaping the minds of the country's youth while at the weekend he is blatantly flouting Article 10, Subsection 2, Paragraph (a) of the rugby laws. For shame.

Anyway, back to the game. Portland defended hard but eventually gave up another score to the Seacoast back-line, bringing the score to 27-17. Soon however Portland were back to full strength and wrested control of the game to score again, with Tractor defying gravity to pick up his second try of the game as the ball came down just before his feet landed in touch. Much love to the Seacoast touch judge for calling it like he saw it.

You'd think that was enough drama for one day, but just as Portland brought the ball inside the Seacoast 22 again for a possible final score, that tricksy Seacoast winger intercepted a midfield pass to run the length of the field and touch down under the posts. 32-24, game on. But, oh dear, there goes the final whistle and it's all over. Too little to late.

The B game, other than being superbly officiated, saw one of the baldest Portland back lines in many a year. It followed a similar pattern to the A game, with break away tries for Seacoast and forward grinders for our lads. In the end they cancelled each other out, with the final score tied at 15-15. Not that Portland didn't squander plenty of opportunities to win it, with sloppy handling and needless obstructions, but hey, that gave us all an opportunity to listen to the ref blow his whistle. Big ups to Stu Dunlop for making his annual appearance, and to even making it to the drink-up despite his long drive home.

Speaking of the drink-up, I have to give a mention to Seacoast for their dissapearing act after the game. No doubt they had to head home for an early night in anticipation of their game against North Shore tomorrow. I hope it turns out to be worth it, since they missed out on a great spread of food (cheers Beth) and even a special "5-0" cake that Ed bought.

That about wraps it up. Portland travel to Amesbury on Saturday for their final league game. A bus is still on the cards, so dust off your kit and get on board.

Sunday's Game moved to Fairgrounds

The headline says it all. Players should convene at 11:30 tomorrow at the Fairgrounds, since today's steady rain has rendered Fox Street unplayable again. The weather should be a bit better than last week, but still expect it to be wet under foot. If you've got any of my tarps from last week, please bring them back.

Kick Off is 1pm, and as always, friends, fans and those curious about the sport are more than welcome.

Directions to the Fairground are here.

No….I love you, man

Awww...we really have come a long way. Those nice guys at Old Gold are giving us props on their website about “livin’ the D3 dream” and even go so far as to post a picture of us mixing it up with their weekend rivals, Providence. Much love, man.

This really is turning in to a regular old love-fest between our two clubs. I feel dirty.

Anyhoo, er...best of luck to those Old Gold chaps for this weekend. Give ‘em hell, and thanks for the mention.

Meanwhile, closer to home, the boys you really love will take on Seacoast on Sunday at an as yet undisclosed location. Kick off is at 1pm, but depending on the weather it may be at Fox Street or back at the Fairgrounds. Keep it tuned right here to find out where exactly it’s going to go down.

For what it’s worth, Seacoast arrive undefeated, although having played one game less than us. Due to rain or poor scheduling it looks as though they have had to hastily paste in a game with North Shore for this Tuesday. Two big games in three days. Better them than me. Let’s make sure they start it off right...
...if you catch my drift.

Riverton directions and a whine about dues

For those of you looking for directions to Riverside, sorry to disappoint, I only have directions to Riverton, which are right here.

Get thee out to practice tonight as the season hurtles towards its tumultuous climax. Success will not be forged in a single moment but in a thousand tiny details wrought by the hands of the faithful.

Speaking of faithful, it appears that there walks amongst us some who pay lip-service to the ideas of fraternity and brotherhood yet believe that they can play for free, in their free jersey, and then have the temerity to drink our free beer, and eat our free pizza. Does that seem right to you?

It may have escaped your notice, but this club spends money (on you) like a drunken sailor on shore leave, and the only reason we stay out of the poor house is by having everybody chip in. But, that does mean everybody.

Now I’m not the type to publicly humiliate the deadbeats among us. That would take Chris Woodsum nerve. I want to believe that Derrig some good reason why you haven’t all put your Hannes it to your pockets by now. It wasn’t cheap to Boyer all those new jerseys, you know! Fournier’s now I’ve been keeping Tractor of the club’s finances, and there really isn’t much to Dan re-Joyce about. Meeting our financial obligations has become a Zabriskie business. Joe, to all of you miscreants I say, Hay-man, let your Clontz-ience be your guide, Andy you can look forward to enjoying this Jason-day’s game with a clear heart. Pay up.

The smell of wet dog...

"At least it's not windy!"

As far as "Famous Last Words" go that must rank right up there with "Oh, I think the levee will be just fine" and "I'll buy you a lobster dinner if the White Sox win".

As if the 5+ inches of rain wasn't enough, the gale that blew up shortly before kick-off was enough for even the most devoted rugby player to question his sanity. That is, of course, unless you happen to play for Portland and you're in a top-of-the-table scrap with the unbeaten Irish Wolfhounds. In that case, neither wind nor rain nor flaming meteor storm could prevent you from doing your duty.

As it was, the home side took the field only slightly dryer than their opposition, having taken advantage of the "Pulling Shed" for their warm up and managing not to actually pull anything.

Playing with the wind behind them in the first half, the Irish began hoisting kicks in an effort to keep Portland back on their heels. Fielding these kicks proved troublesome as they either swirled in the wind, or bounced unpredictably in the patches of standing water. Sure enough, one of these kicks stopped dead in our own 22 only to be kicked on and pounced upon by the Irish full back. The conversion was good, and just like that the home side was in a 7-point hole.

Despite this set-back the Portland pack continued to provide a steady supply of clean ball from both the lineout and the scrum, and given the lousy conditions there was no shortage of knock-ons. Within 10 minutes Portland found themselves on the Irish 22 with the ball in Fred Hayman's hands as he turned back the clock and scythed through four or five tackles to crash over the line and score. The ensuing conversion would have been difficult in dry conditions, but on this day it proved too much for Andy Nelson who sent it wide. Nevertheless, Portland were back in the hunt.

It was not long before Portland were back in scoring distance and were presented with a penalty close on the left touchline. Instead of kicking for touch they opted to run, only to see Hannes slowed down by a high tackle that brought him up short of the line. The tackle didn't escape the ref's notice however, and this time Portland were presented with a kicking opportunity right under the posts. Up stepped Andy to slot the ball over and give Portland a slim 8-7 lead.

By a process of deduction and vague recollection I can tell you that Portland soon scored again, and I know that it was Hannes who scored, Andy converted it, and that it was probably off a lineout. What I can't tell you is whether it came before or after the break, and whether or not I had anything to do with it (as if you cared).

Anyhoo, I do remember half time, and how the gale subsided once Portland had a chance to take advantage of it. It may have been my imagination, but the rain also seemed to ease back from "torrential" to "steady". No matter, the Portland lads took an even firmer grip on the game in the second half, putting it effectively out of reach for the visitors with two more scores.

The first went to Jerry Alves who snuck in around the corner of a maul by using me as a decoy. Who wouldn't have expected the little scrum half to give it up to the lumbering forward outside him? It worked like a charm as most of the defenders moved far enough to the outside to create a gap just big enough for Jerry to wriggle through. Of course, having played with Jerry for more than ten years, I knew he was never going to pass to me, but I gave it my best "I want it" face anyway.

The second score went inevitably to Hannes as the back-row linked up off the back of a five meter scrum. Andy Nelson iced it as he made the conversion from an improbable angle, and that about covers all the action. A few late arrivals for the Irish came on to breath some new life in to their game, but it was too little to late. Scotty and Dean used the wind to their advantage to make sure that any subsequent visits to the Portland half were brief ones. Final score, 27-7, with Man-of-the-Match honors going to Jerry Alves.

The B game was....what, are you kidding me? Nobody wanted another game in that muck, but big props to all those Portland faithful who kitted up just in case or who came out to watch.

Portland's next game will be at home to Seacoast on Sunday (the 16th). Weather permitting we'll be back at Fox Street, so please come out and give us a cheer as we take on another top-of-the-table team.

Fountain of Youth

Does it take a good 30 minutes before you can move around normally in the morning?

Is rock music crap these days?

Do hot high school girls call you "Sir" or "Mister"?

Do you care about what beer you're drinking?

Do you have children of your own (that live with you, and actually call you "Dad")?

Has it turned out that your wife or significant other doesn't actually like rugby?

If you answered "Yes" to two or more of these questions, then this means your are probably an "Old Boy". As such, this probably also means that when you're not stressing about work and the mortgage, your only source of joy (other than hot high school girls) is reminiscing about all those great games of rugby you once played.

Once you were an athlete. A marauding, take-no-prisoners alpha male....and inside you know that you still are.

Well, I have some good news for you. Here at the PRFC laboratories we have developed a time machine capable of transporting you back to those halcyon days when you could play two games, drink all night and still get up by Sunday lunchtime to go out drinking again. Code named "bus trip", this top secret project has breathed new life in to many former players who had previously been devoid of any life signs. Created with copious amounts of alcohol, a house band and even the odd high school girl, this device is guaranteed to transform you in to that beer swilling party animal that you once were - at least for a few shining moments. Of course, once you step outside the aura of the "bus trip", gravity and time take hold again, and the girls go back to calling you "sir".

"Where can I get me some of this 'bus trip'?" I can hear you all yelling. Well hold on there old timer, watch your blood pressure. It just so happens that a fresh shipment of "bus trip" is scheduled to arrive on October 22nd to coincide with an Old Boys game to be played under the lights in Amesbury, MA. In order to accomodate your busy weekend "honey do" list, the "bus trip" will not be administered until 1:30pm, with KO scheduled for approx. 6:30pm, after the A Game.

If you would like to get a prescription for a dose of "bus trip", please e-mail Mike DeSalle or Leo Caouette and let them know about your particular symptoms.

If by chance you are the partner of an "Old Boy" who has stumbled across this post, I want you to look deep in to my eyes and concentrate on the sound of my voice. When I count to three you are going to have no recollection of "bus trip", high school girls or alcohol. In fact, you've been wanting your man to have "a little guy time" lately, and feel he should get out by himself more. While he's gone you're going to go to Victoria's Secret and spend a lot of (your own) money. Three, two, one....you're under.....

Directions to Women's Match

Jes asked me to post these directions to Moakley Park in Boston, and she told me that kick off is at 2pm. I'm guessing that that's on Saturday, but I can't guess who the match is against, since there's a lot of teams who use that field. Anyway, if you want to know, I'm sure Jes will tell you. Good luck to everyone who's playing.

From the West:

Take the Mass Pike East To 93 South
Take 93 South to Exit 15 (COLUMBIA ROAD)
Take left at the end of the ramp onto COLUMBIA RD
toward J.F.K. LIBRARY.
Enter roundabout(Rotary) and take 2nd exit onto
WILLIAM J DAY BLVD.
Field is up on your left, park in the beach parking
lots on your right.

From the South:
Take 93 North to Exit 15 (Columbia Rd.).
Take a right at the end of the ramp onto COLUMBIA RD
toward J.F.K. LIBRARY.
Enter roundabout(Rotary) and take 2nd exit onto
WILLIAM J DAY BLVD.
Field is up on your left, park in the beach parking
lots on your right.

From the North:
Take 93 South through the city to Exit 15 (Columbia
Rd.).
Take a left at the end of the ramp onto COLUMBIA RD
toward J.F.K. LIBRARY.
Enter roundabout(Rotary) and take 2nd exit onto
WILLIAM J DAY BLVD.
Field is up on your left, park in the beach parking
lots on your right.

Here's a map.

"Go back to D2"

…so spoke the Rutland captain at the drink up after last Saturday’s resounding victory. Well, yes, we fully intend to, and after this performance Portland has every reason to feel optimistic about their chances of doing so. There is of course the small matter of winning the rest of our games, then the playoffs etc. and then receiving the blessings of the NERFU politburo… But, as they say at FEMA, “baby steps”.

Portland were always going to be the better looking side in their new kit, but in rugby the clothes do not maketh the man, so it was going to take a bit more than shiny shirts to see off the Rutland side.

The early going was not particularly pretty with several Portland players growing wide-eyed at the site of the try line, only to be cut down short, leaving exasperated players open outside them. Soon however the home team settled in to doing what it does best – driving mauls and pushover tries. The first score came inevitably from a 5-meter lineout, with Hannes scoring the first of his four tries of the day. Given that most of these type of scores come pretty close to the touch line, Andy Nelson had his work cut out for him on the conversions all day. Despite many good efforts he finished with just 4 out of 10 attempts, plus one penalty.

The exact sequence of the tries has already been lost to history, for despite all of those people on the touchline, still nobody bothers to write anything down. Anyway, what I do remember from the first half is a breakaway try for Matt Winch, vindicating the banana defense, another score for Hannes from a set penalty (more props to coach) and probably at least one more pushover try.

The second half continued in much the same vein, although as the score increased, many of the Portland players eschewed hard work in favor of glory, standing off from rucks and watching loose ball bobble around rather than getting their hands dirty cleaning it up. In the end this belief that “someone else will take care of it” took its toll as Rutland scored after several botched attempts to clear our own lines.

Nevertheless, that was the only time that Rutland troubled the score keepers (that’s obviously a metaphor, since I already pointed out that there were no bloody score keepers), with the game finishing at 61-7 in Portland’s favor. The home side scored ten tries in all, with four to Hannes, one to Matt and one to Scott Derrig, who this time capped another solo effort with a more modest one handed touch down. I managed to trundle over for another score (no, I’m not still bitter about that comment), so that still leaves another four tries unaccounted for. If I’ve left you out, please be sure to let me know so I can post a retraction, hire a skywriter or something like that.

A side man-of-the-match honors went to Scott Derrig, who definitely punched above his weight downing his drinks. Other notable performances from my perspective include Fred Hayman for breaking so many tackles in his new shirt, Jeff Keating for his first half hustle (I’ve still got his cleat marks on my back to prove it) and of course to all forwards everywhere, because you’re my boys.

The B game proved to be brief but eventful as it broke out into a (good natured?) feud between Tractor and Francis. I believe that Tractor may have edged that one after scoring his own breakaway try and capping it with some try-zone shenanigans that would have made Terrell Owens blush (wot, no Sharpie?). Last I heard, Francis had decided to bypass the drink up to work on his appeal to NERFU.

Portland have a bye on 10/1 and then host Wolfhounds-C on 10/8. See you all there.

Pay for your new jersey

Blingy New Jersey
Originally uploaded by Tom.

For those of you who gave me an order for a new jersey yesterday, hopefully you have some recollection of the event, since they are now on order, and will be winging their way towards us in 3 to 4 weeks.

That means you have between now and then to pay up so that the club isn't left hanging. Why not get it out of the way now by clicking on the button below? That'll save us the trouble of turning you over to our collections department.

If you didn't get a chance to give me an order yesterday, drop me a line with your desired size and the number you'd like on the back and I'll start a new order. Assuming that your willing to part with $40 of course.

Home Opener

It’s finally upon us. Your Portland team is back from its travels, sporting a 2-0 record and bringing back stories of close escapes and conquests both on and off the field. Now they return home to that temple of rugby, Fox Street, looking to continue their good form against a gritty Rutland team, who finished points leaders of D3 last year.

The weather promises to be as bright and shiny as Portland’s new jerseys, encouraging running rugby and flowing beer. If you don’t already have plans to play, think about coming down to watch and give our lads a cheer. I’m sure that some of you are reading this and feeling guilty about your complete absence from games or training to this point, but don’t let that keep you away. Just confess your sins before our Truth and Reconciliation Committee and all will be forgiven my son.

Everyone is welcome, especially those of you bringing a cooler. Kick Off is 1pm.

Late change - Training @ Fox Street 9/22

Parks & Rec screwed us over so training for tonight with be at Fox Street. Given the failing light, be there as early as you can to get warm and get on with things. If you're reading this message before practice, call someone else and make sure they know.

Discipline

Francis pointed out this posting to me.

There might have been a time when we'd have had a good old laugh at this poor bastard's expense, and congratulated ourselves on another lucky escape. I don't know about you, but instead of feeling smug, I find that there's something incredibly sobering about the words, "1st offence - life suspension".

Make no mistake about it, the times, they are a-changing. From the very top of the game to the very bottom the authorities are taking a tougher line on violence. Witness Lewis Moody's six week suspension for striking an opponent in a Guiness Premiership match. The good news is that rugby is more than ever about the scoring points, getting results and the athletic abilties of its players. The bad news is that old habits die hard, and the authorities won't give you time to catch up.

A life suspension. Think about it. That doesn't just mean not playing any more - you aren't even allowed to watch another game. I can't imagine how bad that feels.

Belated North Shore Pics

Overbite
Originally uploaded by tlovering.

I can't say enough about all the great pictures Jes has taken of our games so far, and I now have far more pictures of Jeff in the lineout than anyone could ever want.

As a result I've had to be a bit more selective about the ones I post, limiting them to the most action packed, expressive, poignant or humorous.

In this instance I've chosen this image of Andy Nelson, who's right boot made all the difference on the day. Nice shootin' Andy.

Click on the image to reach our gallery and have a click around to find some more.

Directions to Riverton

Starting this Thursday (9/22) practice will move under the lights at Riverton School. Practice is still 6pm to 8pm. Directions are here.

With our home opener upon us, you'll need to make sure you're there in order to get some playing time.

You'll also need to pay your Fall dues.

Blingy New Jersey

Blingy New Jersey
Originally uploaded by Tom.

They're finally here. To the list of important reasons to make sure you're available for this week's home opener, add the fact that you'll have the chance to wear one of these kickin' new jerseys.

They're ultra-light, form fitting and even a lttle shiny. Too nice to play rugby in really, but for you dear, anything.

Oh, and did I mention the matching shorts and socks? They're to die for.

Pay for these nice jerseys now by paying your dues!

Harvard Match Report

Travelling in such style to a game is something you could get used to, even if coming back stuck on bus with the same people after a few drinks is something you can do with out. But more on that later...

The Portland team (and friends) arrived in Boston just as the rains stopped to reveal the finely manicured and lavishly appointed Harvard Sports facilities. Hopes of finding an equally manicured and appointed rugby pitch were soon dashed, because after all, those B-school students need somewhere to graze their cows.

Clearly the damp pitch conditions seeped in to the spirits of the Portland fifteen, who came out flatter than last night's beer. In the sloppy conditions both sides made their share of mistakes, although Portland did take an early lead through an Andy Nelson penalty. That was about the high point of the first half, as both sides huffed and puffed with little effect.

Half time arrived with the hope that a few inspirational words would open things up. Well, I'll be darned if something that was said didn't register deep in the cortex of our players as they came out in the second half with a new found purpose. In the 46th minute they found themselves with a lineout five yards out from the Harvard line, and they didn't need to be reminded about what to do in such circumstances. A clean take, a drive and Hannes touches down. 8-nil Portland.

The next twenty minutes passed uneventfully, other than another penalty attempt by Andy that increased the score to 11-0. In the 66th minute however, a clearance kick by Jerry McQueeny was charged down inside the Portland 22, and some Harvard dude scooped up the ball and ran in uncontested. The ensuing covnersion was good, bringing the score to 11-7 and all of a sudden Portland looked as though they had another squeaker on their hands.

With their new found composure however, Portland shut things down for the remainder of the game, other than to take the score to 14-7 with another Andy Nelson penalty, who finished with 3 out of 5 for the day. All in all a solid, workmanlike performance by the Portland team, but not one that'll be winning any beauty pageants.

The B Game was less of a contest, with Portland rolling out 25-0 winners. They opened their account with a replay of their A game try that saw a couple of guys claiming to have their hand on the ball when it hit the deck. The next two tries were a little more fluid, and also great team efforts. Francis dumped off to Matt who hit Freddy for the first score, and Jimmy Hendricks begat Matt (again) who begat Jerry McQ for the second. The last try went to Scotty Derrig, who capped a fine solo effort with a completely unecessary dive in to the try zone. Nelly converted 2 of the 4 conversions, giving his right leg a good workout throughout the day.

Thanks go to Harvard for their lavish hospitality, which included three slices of pizza and a few pitchers. Clearly they are truely "the man" in training, and already trying to keep good folks like us down. Well, we stuck it to the man, so keep your pizza.

Not that a few pitchers of beer didn't do the trick in stripping away any pretence of decency amongst the Portland players and their entourage. Like New Orleans after a hurricane the thin veneer of civilty was soon stripped away, and as far as a I can tell, the only winner was the gene pool. Charles Darwin would have been proud.

Lumbered? Lumbered !?!?

I just read the North Shore match report, and I'm rendered (almost) speechless in disbelief.

"lumbered"?? What's that about?

I can think of so many more suitable adjectives. How about "flew", "jinked", "tore" or "steamed". I even would have settled for "galloped", "careened" or "sashayed".

So what would be slower than lumbering? Plodding? Shambling? Dawdling? 'Cos that's what the North Shore backs must have been doing not to catch me.

Well at least he got the score right. 18-17. Yeah. Lumber that.

B-School Bus Bonanza

Now that was an alliteration!

Perhaps you somehow aren't on Fred's mailing list, or perhaps you just like the way I say it better, but tomorrow's road trip is a special one, in that the club has chartered a "luxury" motor coach for your riding pleasure. Decent.

Now pay close attention, since this means a few changes from your usual road trip routine. Firstly, given the price of fossil fuels these days, you will need to bring an extra $20 over and above your usual travelling funds to help the club off-set the costs. So, for most of you, that means you have to bring about $21.50. Or, $1.50 and a check made out to PRFC for $20, or even better still, pay your dues with a credit card below, and tack on an extra $20.

Still with me? OK. Secondly, we'll be meeting at a different Park 'n' Ride. One that you can actually fit a bus in to. This particular one is just a little up the road from our regular haunt, opposite Planet Fitness or Bally's or whatever it's called these days. Be there at 8:15 some the bus can leave at 8:30 to pick up all the idiots still at the other Park 'n' Ride. Bring snacks, reading material and a muscial instrument if you can play Rhinestone Cowboy on it. Probably bring an umbrella too.

K. Simple enough, really. Anyone still to register for CIPP should get on that, lickety-split. Do it here.

Do the Dues:

Nail-biter at North Shore

Portland opened their league campaign this past Sunday with a real squeaker at North Shore. Clearly they'd done a bit of recruitment in the off season, and came out looking to compete.

Portland opened the scoring early after a break down the wing from yours truly, before being dragged down cruely short of the line by what can only have been the fastest prop in NERFU. Fortunately Hannes was not to far behind and was able to pick up the ball and touch it down in the corner. Not sure if the conversion was made, since I was hobbling off towards the cooler.

Honestly I lost track of things for a while there, but I believe Portland added another penalty to their total before North Shore got on the scoreboard themselves. Portland added another penalty and another try, which was a collective effort from the forwards, which means I don't know who scored it. What I do know is that Andy Nelson converted it from the sideline, which turned out to be the deciding factor in the game. Though North Shore added a penalty of their own, and scored a breakaway try in the final minutes, it still left them agonizingly one point short. Thus ended the game, 18-17 in favor of our boys, who showed some character to hold on for the win.

On the positive side, Portland showed up with some good numbers for a change and enjoyed some strength in depth. As I said, the boys hung in there and absorbed a lot of pressure. On the negative side, I wrote a really shitty match report. Sorry about that.

Have you paid your dues for the Fall? If not, then you'd better do it here:

Stop Press - Women's Match Directions

Hey, better late than never. Here's a link for directions to the women's game against Bates tomorrow.

Linkapalooza

Good luck girls!

North Shore Directions

Meet at the Park 'n' Ride by 8:30am on Sunday, ready to leave for the 12:00 noon kick-off.

For those of you travelling directly, directions are below, and a map of sorts is here. If you haven't already done so, let someone know that you won't be at the Park 'n' Ride - preferably someone who will be.

See you there.

Directions.
Rt 1 can be accessed from I-95 at exit 45 (I think) just before the 95-128 junction.


From Route 1 North or South:
Get off at Walnut Street heading towards Lynn
Take Walnut Street to O'Callaghan Way about 2 miles off of Route 1
Take a right on to O'Callaghan Way
Follow O'Callaghan Way to its end
Take a right on to Holyoke Street
Follow Holyoke to its end
Take a left on to Winnepurkit Street
Follow Winnepurkit Street to its end
Take a left on to Boston Street
Follow Boston Street to Austin Square (There'll be a convenience store on
your right)
Take a right on to Summer Street
Follow Summer Street about 1 mile
GEAA Field is on your left
If you get to CL Hauthaway, you've gone too far

Clumsy Practice Metaphor

Imagine you had a jigsaw, but some of the pieces have fallen down the back of the couch....no wait, prented you're trying to make a cake but none of the ingredients have labels on them....no, you're trying to paint a picture in a dark room....

Well, if none of that works for you, pretend you're trying to make selections for this Sunday's game, but you're not sure who among the 30+ guys who have made cameo appearences at practice over the last month are available, not to mention all the "players on paper" who have yet to show their face, or the regular stream of e-mails the club receives from guys who profess to be interested in playing yet who never show up.

While your chronic fear of commitment might be irresistable to women, it's just a pain in the arse for the rest of us, so do us all a favor and e-mail Jay and let him know a) if you will be at practice on Thursday, b) if you are available for this Sunday's game and c) if you have any intenterest in any other part of the season.

You click, you type, you send. Simple and painless, and with much fewer tears and than you're used to.

Practice Countdown

Two practices remain before the kick-off to the League season. Imagine what might happen if the 25+ active players on our books all showed up to practice on the same day. Oh, the practice we would have.

To get you in the mood, here's how Sky Sports has been advertising the kick-off of a little league they call the Guinness Premership. Nothing compared to NERFU D3, but if they can get all psyched-up about their league, I don't see why you can't.

Fond Farewell

This bloke drank your beer
Photo by Jess, uploaded by Tom.

Stoort gives 'em his angry eyes
Photo by Jess, uploaded by Tom.

So farewell then,
Stoort and Babs.

You were two blokes
from Ireland, who
played mostly sevens
and tens.

You stayed in Leo's
basement, and painted
lots of stuff.

Walls, not pictures.
Good training for
engineers.

Stoort. I passed to
you this one time
and you scored.

Nice one.

Yes. You always made it
to training, but Babs
tore his MCL.

Now all he can do
is drink beer.

No hard feelings, eh?


apologies to EJ Thribb

On the 7th Day, God played Rugby

Due to the worldwide shortage of referees and the poor planning of some of our opponents, two of our games are scheduled to be played on a Sunday. Both our first game at North Shore, and our home fixture against Seacoast have been moved to the traditional day of rest (or for some of you, the day of "even more rest than usual").

So, for starters, this means you're going to have to make peace with whatever god you follow. If this means you have to say a few Hail Marys, flog yourself, sacrifice a virgin or blow something up, get on with it. Do whatever you have to do with in the name of your respective higher powers (or wife, same thing) to ensure your availability, although my own experience tells me that it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Secondly, this means you'll be going to work with fresher bruises than normal, not to mention a hangover, so you'll also need to do whatever you need to do to ensure a relatively undisturbed day. Might I suggest coming in and turning on your computer and scattering some important looking papers on your desk. Then walk around the office looking as stressed as possible (make sure everyone sees you) before buggering off to Starbucks for a couple of hours.

Just like a regular Friday actually.

Old Gold photos galore!

Dr. Ed, amateur Proctologist
Originally uploaded by tlovering.

Big ups to Jes for taking so many great pics of the Old Gold match, just like this one. Click on the image to get taken to our gallery and see lots, lots more.

Old Gold's Match Report - a rebuttal.

Rather than write an entire match report, it works out a lot easier for me if you would just go and read Old Gold's match report here, and then return to this post so I can point out to you some of the glaring inaccuracies.

OK, done that? Now where shall I begin?

Like any embedded reporter, Tim Day, the Old Gold match reporter, has a hard time seeing the woods from the trees. Clearly he enjoys his job too much to embark on any kind of soul searching analysis of the match, and prefers to spew the established OG wisdom about "solid hits, good runs and smart play".

I'll give him credit for acknowledging that we "scrummaged hard" and I can only assume that by "took us down in the lineout" he means that we completely dominated the lineout, stealing their ball even when they resorted to double-pumping. Where all that quality ball went is another question, but hey...

I will also concede his point that "Portland’s lack of subs started to play a toll on their ability to make open field plays where it counted." So for all of you who couldn't make it because you had to clean the basement, or because you just had that thing to take care of - I'll let the result rest on your conscience, rather than mine.

The report's most glaring economy with the truth however must be Tim's statement that, "The game remained clean apart from a few minor incidents which we have to give credit to both teams and the ref for a decent job, well done." Clean, perhaps by the standards of our usual encounters, but wasn't that you Tim who go a yellow card? Perhaps spending the last ten minutes of the game picking dasies in the try zone gave you time to reflect on the wisdom of the ref's decision. Just about the only smart one he had made all day. It's funny how the winning side always has less to say about the ref....

Naturally Tim forgets to mention the two tries that we scored ourselved to mark a late and spirited resurgence. The first came from Francis when the visitors were at last able to take advantage of some of that juicy lineout ball. A rolling maul gave way to a series of pick-n-go moves, with Francis proving unstoppable when falling over the line. The second try belonged to the wee Irish fella', Dungas, who got his just rewards for taking the game by the scruff of its neck. Yours truly fed him some sweet ball back inside off the back of the scrum, and he did the rest, carrying a couple of OG "units" over the line with him.

So there you have it. A much more even handed account of the game, and although OG had more points on the day, they were made to work for them all. Best of luck to them for the rest of their season, and if they win only one game, please let it be South Shore.

I love this game. But then again, I know the rules, and you probably don't.

Old Gold Departure

All of you coming to Old Gold tomorrow should be at the Park ‘n’ Ride on Marginal Way no later that 9:45am, ready for a prompt departure. If you plan on going their directly, here’s where we’re playing, and please let someone know that we shouldn’t wait for you.

Fall season starts tomorrow, and it’s like The Clash said:

When they kick at your front door
How you gonna come?
With your hands on your head
Or on the trigger of your gun

New World Order

There are those who have a hard time letting go. Just because our leaders tell us that our old enemies are now our allies, it doesn’t mean that we feel differently about them overnight. Germans, Japanese, Russian, Vietnamese, Koreans (the southern ones), Argies, French, Irish (the northern ones), Iraqis (mostly), Iranians (completely), South Africans (the white ones), Serbs/Croats (the nutcase variety), Danes (the Viking kind), Italians (the Roman kind). Take your pick. Depending on your age, historical, geographic and economic circumstances, any or all of the above list may have been your mortal enemies whom you are now expected treat with trust and mutual respect. And don’t even get me started on religious persuasion.

To add to that list, and to our increasingly shades-of-grey world view, I submit the name of Old Gold. As most of the old gits like me on the club are fond of saying, we remember a day when up was up, only Alexis Carrington wore shoulder pads, and Old Gold were the team that you loved to hate. Victory was usually as much of a certainty as the manhole covers in the middle of their pitch. Well, the quality of their fields may not have improved, but it seems that all of a sudden they got a little good, we got a little worse, and it’s time to kiss and make up and turn our venom on South Shore.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no fan of South Shore, but as you can tell I’m having just a bit of difficulty with Old Gold as my new best friends. My feeling is that history will record this era along side those pictures of Donald Rumsfeld shaking hands with Saddam Hussein, and Neville Chamberlain assuring the people of England peace with Mr. Hitler. Any side that allows “do rags” is not to be trusted.

When it comes to Old Mould any respective difference in divisions means nothing more than ink on paper, and I hope they are not foolhardy enough to think otherwise. Nevertheless I find the lack of pre-match hype on their website down-right patronizing.

So, in this spirit of love and fellowship I expect to see you all there on Saturday, and in order to get them properly narked before hand, I suggest you go and fill out their lovely availability chart here. I’m sure they’ll appreciate knowing that you’re not available for any of their other games.

Practice tonight at 6 on the Fox. Be there if you want to see some minutes this weekend.