Let's get the hell out of here...

Skerries 1st XV v Clonakilty, 23rd November, 2002 at Holmpatrick

Skerries 16
Clonakilty 10

Barely an hour after the long whistle on Sunday the luxury 50 seater with the Cork registration had its engines running. If you’ve ever found yourself a couple of hundred miles from home with an unanticipated defeat to digest you’ll know what a melancholy sound that is. Soon the more biddable members of the party will emerge from the clubhouse and embark, words as scarce as war-time butter. Stragglers will follow at two minute intervals. A head count shows one short and A Responsible Person is despatched to locate Tedser. And all the time the engines are running, insistent and monotone. What they are saying is “lets get to hell out of here”.

Clonakilty had set out on Saturday morning with high hopes of taking the division’s yellow jersey. Now they found themselves back in the peloton with only a single bonus point for consolation. That and the celebrated black pudding. By contrast, a good day’s work from the Goats got rid of the lanterne rouge and catapulted the team five places up the table. More importantly it gave evidence that the sheiks and bedouins of Dooferland are now consigned to history. Well in arrears of the bodies the minds have been repatriated at last and no more will the dreaded B-word be invoked in mitigation of a substandard performance.

The first half gave no hint of what was to follow for both sides looked like fundamentalists loath to infringe the sabbath by breaking into a sweat. KEANE (Peter’s Derek) did come infield to strafe the visiting defence with a percussive burst but he himself was numbered amongst the victims, taking quite some time to regain full mobility. And CARAHER, at the culmination of a silken back movement, only just failed to supply the unmarked TANNER. As is so often the case the referee became a target of Skerries frustration and at times indeed he seemed to be auditioning for a part in the Club Pantomime….. not as Santa Clause but as one of the So and Sos. KEANE (Colm’s Conal) bagged a pair of excellent penalties before the break, a lead diluted by DILLON’S successful kick for Clonakilty but a three point lead in the context of wind advantage was tenuous in the extreme.

KEANE failed with a kick at goal on the resumption, duplicating an earlier miss on the verge of half-time. But the young full-back was beginning to make an increasingly effective contribution to the offensive aspirations of his team. HYNES moreover had, since kick-off, been giving a gala recital of all the classic scrum half virtues. And the GRIMES-GREY liaison at line-out was starting to lay on the necessary victuals. The Goats at last had a purposeful look about them. (The proliferation of worthy no 2’s - GRIMES had replaced POWER at half-way - not alone allows KELLEHER to revert to flank forward but means improved working conditions for the long-serving MULCAHY who can now look forward to a week-end off every twenty years).

Skerries’ reward for improved cohesion was a further penalty from KEANE. No-one, however, was yet prepared to stray into optimism. But then something wonderful happened. The genius that has for too long lain dormant in BEGGS finally went on general release. Receiving from set piece on the visiting 22 the No 10 instantly identified the valid option amongst the dozen or so that normally plague him. Deftly chipping the advancing defenders he was able, without checking his run, to take the touchdown under the posts. As we go to press WILKINSON’S effort against the Blacks is being hastily edited out of the coaching videos in favour of this tour de force from the Rockalyoke Redeemer. Skerries first AIL try after 3 1/2 hours play is likely to be a momentous one in the ultimate reckoning.

The conversion by KEANE was a formality. Faced with a 13pt deficit it dawned on the Cork men that they might actually lose the match and they responded with appropriate urgency. But a thoroughly committed final quarter hour from Skerries limited the visitors to one converted try.

For connoisseurs of the ancient art of jousting there was a match within a match, a side show which at times threatened to upstage the main event. O’CONNOR, the caprine prop and McGRATH the Clonakilty tight-head spent so much time exchanging yellow cards and escorting each other to the touch line that they might have been long lost brothers in prolonged embrace. But the sight of the visitor departing for good five minutes before time with eye tangibly closing removed any element of fraternity from the equation.

The Goats are now seemingly reconciled to the realities of winter rugby in Ireland. Bring on the Chaps.