The week started brightly enough with Andrew Trimble tweeting that it was Connaught week and he wished to make it 4 from 4.
This show of tailored aggression was fair enough I thought, but by Tuesday Trimble had tweeted he was John K Rambo and wanted his lunch NOW!
A picture accompanied the tweet showing Trimble dressed in black wig, red bandana &war paint. Why he felt the need to wear chest enhancing plastic was beyond me, given his already muscular physique. Sadly by Saturday evening, 64 minutes into the game, the puff was gone from Trimble’s psyche as he spent 10minutes cooling off for a stupid tackle.
It spoilt what was otherwise a reasonable game for him but was also symptomatic of the way Ulster approached this match with little ambition and afterwards the coach seemed satisfied they hadn’t lost.
I suppose McGlocks relief was understandable given he was under Kidney orders to play Wallace at 10, to assist Irish rugby in its world cup preparations. After that display it is perhaps a wonder how this is going to assist Irish rugby in any way except undermine its credibility.
Wallace isn’t comfortable at 10, nor can he make up for his discomfort by being able to kick off the tee. Once again our lack of kicking precision cost us this game.
I said last week that not being able to take your 3 pointers will eventually come back to haunt us and to some extent it did. We left at least 9 points on the pitch plus a failed drop goal that was inept in its execution.
There were of course other aspects to the game such as the lack of ambition in the backs, partly caused by Wallace taking too much out of the ball and the return to punts into the night sky that left the chasers next to no chance of putting any pressure on the opposition catching the ball.
Marshall at 9, having relieved himself of the frustration last week at being in the shadow of the approaching Pienaar, returned to type of a sort by box kicking poorly.
To sum up, we are playing at less than half our potential and failing to lose. One can only hope that there is plenty in reserve and that we are not just staggering on the edge of another drop in intensity. Next week will tell a tale.
Your Having a Gag, Another Geoghan?
The build up to the Connaught match was one of hyperbole that did not match the resulting game when it was actually played on the pitch. No surprise really, though how Tony Ward saw the new Simon Geoghan in Fionn Carr was pushing the boat out a little and the resulting performance by the Connaught wing dispelled the notion that here was a new wing sensation.
Ulster like other teams, will wish to test the rising star’s mettle and did so with some crushing physicality that will remind him that anybody making a name for themselves will have to survive an examination of the most brutal kind.
For some indication of this kind of examination Carr could do better than talk to John K Rambo himself. One remembers Trimble’s treatment at the hands of Shane Horgan, literally, as Horgan welcomed him to the fraternity of Irish wingers with verbal abuse amongst other less than savoury methods.
For Carr to be regarded as the real deal he will have to survive games like last night and rise above the dross on show. This he failed to do and therefore my jury’s out on him.
Frankinsults, Incensed and Mirrors
The regulars on the FRU board were entering into the spirit of the build up with a robust examination of Mote’s credentials and the Raven’s character, as the ragin’ Cajun. The excuse for this trading of frankinsults by the 3 wise men from east, Raven, Junty and Mote and one shepherd with the odd name of admin, was the selection of the Ulster team.
Heated debate centred on, not so much whether the Raven had named them in his predictive team as not naming them had indicated he had left them out.
To get my head round this, I suspended belief temporarily and felt it was open to question that he had not named them so they were omitted from his predictive team but on the other hand he had included them but just hadn’t named them.
Mote suggested Raven had an agenda and Ragin’ returned the compliment suggesting Mote was remote and needed to get out more, whilst admin chortled from the sidelines. It was exhausting to read let alone type it.
The Galway Hooker Using Moisturiser!
Even as the Ulster team selection debate raged on the FRU, Jamie Hagan, Connaught’s young loosehead was revealing almost all about his teammates in an interview for the Irish Independent.
Amongst the tittle tattle of team personal dynamics was the revelation that Connaught’s hooker, Sean Cronin used moisturiser. (One assumes on his face!). This is a new and unsettling territory for front row players who normally don’t even use aftershave.
Front Row Union old boys everywhere will, I assume be embarrassed that one of their own is stooping to such ungentlemanly methods of body care.
One awaits the next revelation, is BJ shaving his eyebrows? now that would raise eyebrows.
Pissed or Pissed Off
Ulster old boy, now domiciled in Helensburgh, Big Hairy Monster was becoming increasingly fraught as the Connaught game drifted into the last 10 minutes.
Watching the game online and texting from his computer, BHM was increasingly irrational and finished the game with a series of texts which read something like, bleep, bleep, bleeeep, bleep, before finally revealing his innermost thoughts along the lines of ‘bleep, we didn’t lose!’
Earlier BHM revealed he was v. pissed, though it was not clear if it was due to his beloved Helensburgh drawing 16 all that afternoon or whether he had imbibed a sherbert or two, too many as a result of his beloved Helensburgh drawing 16 all.
Galway by Any Means
Last week I revealed that Gillian, one of Ulster’s burgeoning band of female supporters was intending to take the cannonball run to Galway. Having assiduously researched the route, she declared she would be driving via Dublin and the M50 which was assumed to be the most efficient way of travelling way out west.
Imagine my surprise when she texted, mid afternoon on Friday to say she was taking tea and a walk in Cavan town. Despite assiduous research, it seems, Gillian had simply missed the Sprucefield turn off for the A1 and Dublin and carried on down the motorway to Enniskillen, making the route up she went along.
She eventually arrived in Galway that evening and met up with fellow cannonball run driver, Holywood Mike.
Question and Answer on Holywood Mike.
This weeks fan in the frying pan is one of Ulster’s more unusual supporters Holywood Mike.
Q. Does Holywood have a fleg?
A. We assume that’s Holywood Co. Down and not Mike your referring to.
Mike has waved flegs from Japan to Bhutan but never a Holywood fleg.
Q. Does Mike live in Holywood?
A. We can exclusively reveal that Mike lives near Holywood but does not actually visit the old town much.
Q. Is Holywood Mike his real name?
A. Yes and no. We understand his first name is Micheal but the other bit is just taking the Micheal and adding Holywood to it.
Q. You said Mike is an Ulster supporter, does he know anything about rugby?
A. Again we can exclusively reveal that by Mike’s own admission he knows nothing about rugby. His association with Ulster rugby is based around the more peripheral matters of rugby supporting such as drinking, chanting, waving flegs and of course talking about cheerleaders.
Q. Does Mike have a job?
A. We don’t have the definitive answer to this one, though there have been suggestions that he works as a bookend in Ballymena library or indeed he could even be a librarian but isn’t letting on.
Q. How would I know Mike in a crowd and would he give his autograph?
A. The first bit is easy, he’s the only Ulster supporter apart from Mike jr., who wears a flat cap and a wig. As for his autograph, we would have to persuade him to lay down his pint momentarily. Should you dress up as cheerleader sir, I’m sure he’d gratefully sign something for you.
Q. Is Mike for real?
A. Why yes, of course he is! He displays all the traits normally associated with the human race, though his obsession with cheerleaders has taken on a hypnotic quality recently and some have occasionally questioned his sanity!
Next Week’s Sartorial Affair
I am looking forward to next Friday night’s match and anticipate a great contest, not necessarily on the pitch but to see who might be contender’s for the coveted, sartorially bad dressed person of the night.
I am sure that Kimble will be beaten into a solid 3rd place by two other major contenders who will pull out the stops and anything else they can find to wear on the night and win this hotly contested prize of worst dressed supporter.
See you all next Friday. Keep the faith, the time and anything else that may be of value to you.
Corrections, comments or questions?