The Mitres were back in action again on Saturday, following no less than four frustrating, Rugby-free weekends. Harlow seconds were the opponents, a team who had not lost in their last 6 and- buoyed on by the arrival of their shiny new clubhouse- would no doubt be jumping at the chance to get a local derby W over the blues.

It was this author’s first run out in Blue for over a year, and I was extremely proud to see that little has changed in the way the Mitres approach the game. This actually started in the pub on Friday night, where I was privileged to witness Captain Pikey Roberts obliterated by 8pm- in a session that didn’t finish until 5am, and manager Stig sat bolt upright on the pool table. But asleep. I also witnessed the following exchange between the two, which was perfect:

MR: Stig, did you retire from playing Rugby when you were 32?
OS: No dude.
MR: How old are you now?
OS: 33
MR: And when did you stop playing Rugby?
OS: Last year dude.

A show of hands in the changing rooms confirmed that this was by no means the exception, with all bar about 3 players confirming that they were actually in no fit state to play. F*cking LADS. The lot of us.

A shout out must also also to the Ginger Essex Scotsman, Andrew Mackenzie, for his match report efforts since my departure. I just thought that this week it may be nice to treat the readers to a report that includes, you know, some punctuation.

Anyway. Rugby. The Mitres team has a wonderful blend of youth and ‘experience’, with old heads Steve Hearn and Mikey Roberts somehow still clinging on, and youngsters like Charlie Kettle making even the most immature of 21-year olds feel like a hardened veteran. We kicked off at 1pm and early signs were positive. Barnstorming Brad Etherington and the man with easily the best name I’ve played alongside- Dante Dragan- making powerful early incisions. Strings were pulled well in the midfield with glass man fly half Ash Boyle linking up well with his centres James Orbart (better known by his stage name DJ Japseye) and Jack Lowbridge. This led to space being made down the left early on, with winger Jake Brough setting us up in a good position within the Harlow 22. Unfortunately, a sloppy handling error temporarily let our visitors off the hook, a theme that would be constant throughout the first half. On 3 occasions within the first 10 minutes, drunk captain Pikey managed to butcher clear-cut opportunities. After some strong counter-attacking from full-back CJ (name is too ridiculous to type), we again found ourselves with possession in a good area and we managed to build multiple phases, with Hearn, Lord Hammond and the mercurial Jack Sharp all knocking at the door. We were eventually awarded a scrum 5 metres out, which we won comfortably after solid work from the immovable Optimus Prime and Jack Kavanagh. It was from the base of this that Brad Etherington went booming over the line, leaving two defenders like fallen bowling pins in his wake, Gash Boyle adding a simple two.

The greasy conditions were not helping our case and the following 10 minutes were scrappy and highlighted more of our defensive prowess than our ball skills. The aggression of Dragan and Hammond was seldom matched, and Jack Sharp literally only knows how to tackle horizontally, which somewhat matches the man’s personality. After 2 years of thinking Sharpy was the most relaxed (stoned) man in existence, I’ve actually come up with a new theory; Jack Sharp is a hyper-intelligent genius, and doesn’t react to any of our mindless drivel because he is too busy contemplating quantum mechanics. It took until minute 31 for the Blues to register their next score, this time through Pikey Roberts after a neat cross field kick from Ash Boyle. The two they’d tried before had gone horribly wrong, with Roberts’ opposite man ghosting past him on the return, twice, so it was nice to see them execute. It was a strong finish if I am being completely fair. But I’m not, so it was average.

12-0 is hardly a commanding lead and it would be unfair on Harlow to depict them as being solely on the back-foot. They had a number of powerful runners and began to build themselves into the game toward the end of the half. After multiple direct phases they had the blues on the ropes, when the Harlow 9 found their prop 4 metres out. This was a man that made our own Optimus Prime look like a men’s health model; he predictably rumbled over and the scores went to 12-7. Two minutes before the end of the half, glass man Ash Boyle signalled to the bench (shock), as he’d hurt a labia (his brother diagnosed it) and the crowd erupted with tears in their eyes as Sperm entered the fray. I am certain I saw an opposition supporter fling her underwear on to the pitch, but this is so far unconfirmed. The last act of the half was a set piece move from Harlow where they sent the blind winger straight down the 10 channel, he was met by easily the biggest hit of the day, probably of the season, by yours truly. I haven’t mentioned this until now but the referee had a quiet word with me at half time and asked if I’d try to not tackle quite so ferociously for the remainder of the game. I obliged by tackling nobody.

Half time saw the introduction of prop Matt Chalmers, hooker Charlie Harris and winger Chris Benfield. Ash Boyle also re-entered as Sperm dropped to 15. The game opened up slightly with both teams trying to move the ball. To absolutely nobody’s surprise, it took only 4 minutes for the Sperm to strike; neat work in midfield from Boyle saw him release the multi-talented full-back to score close to the posts. Our backs now began to show their skills; there was excellent probing work around the fringes from scrum half Charlie Kettle, and both Orbart and Lowbridge were frequently breaking the line, the latter also putting in an exceptional defensive shift throughout the game. On 53 minutes it was the turn of another super sub to score. Strong carries from the marauding Max Hammond and Brad Etherington put us in a strong position, and Dragan burst to get within inches of the line. The flanker then calmly offloaded to the on-flooding Charlie Harris who finished the score well. Ashley Boyle decided to take the conversion quickly with a drop kick- it hit the corner flag, which is both impressive and catastrophic in equal measure.

Following this we were required to defend resolutely and we eventually turned over a scrappy lineout on our own 5 metre line, which lord Hammond (against my advice) chose to run out from behind our line. He proved me wrong with an excellent break down pitch to set up better field position. CJ, having orchestrated our field position well after moving to fly-half, sent a wonderful kick to the corner from a penalty, giving our forwards the platform they needed as they set up a powerful maul and rumbled over- I think it was Etherington, but I don’t care for snoring forward play. We can talk about the conversion attempt from CJ later, but it didn’t go over. We pulled out some more champagne rugby in the latter part of the game which culminated in Dragan barrelling over the line, a much deserved try after a very strong performance from the flanker. With everyone else seemingly incompetent, Sperm stepped up and kicked the final conversion of the day, to send the crowd wild again. Not a dry pair of knickers in the house.

The final score was 36-7 in our favour, which was pleasing after a scrappy start against a tough opposition who were certainly capable of playing some good Rugby. I don’t think we actually got round to doing the man of the match and dick of the day pints (cos lads, see paragraph 3) but the nominations were made. I nobly removed myself from contention in what would have been a straightforward MotM decision, so the contenders were as follows:

Brad Etherington bagged two tries and dominated the contact area each time that he carried;
Max Hammond was galloping around like a caviar chewing, fox hunting maverick all day, making tons of yards;
Lowbridge and Orbart were solid and didn’t put many feet wrong at all.

However, scrum half Charlie Kettle played exceptionally well at 9 in tough conditions. His service and attacking threat were of a constantly high standard. I was extremely impressed to hear that this was his first run out at scrum half since the age of 9! Until I realised that was probably last year.

I’ve never been a part of a Mitres Rugby game were there were few dick of the day contenders. Today was no different:

Pikey Roberts managed to butcher multiple opportunities early on in the game and turned up steaming as co-captain (I’d argue that that should be applauded);
Optimus calmly and casually letting the ball sail over his head from a kick off, like it was a piece of healthy food;
Jack Sharp had to shoot of straight after the game to get to a lecture on electromagnetic theory in Cambridge;
Ash Boyle’s horrific attempt at a drop kick conversion, which I believe the referee laughed at as much as us;

However, CJ, after being asked if he wanted the kick for our penultimate try, boldly exclaimed “yeh, I’ll av’ it”, lined it up as if he were a young Jonny Wilkinson and calmly stroked it, all along the floor, nowhere near the posts. It really was a remarkable sight.

It was wonderful to see how well things are progressing for the Mitres, who are back in league action this weekend where they take on Richmond. See you at Christmas.

Sperm xx