Harry our rumbustious tour guide for the day had important news as we boarded our tour bus after the second and last pit stop before Milton Keynes.
The Flybe flight from city airport intoned Harry into his microphone, had been cancelled this morning and many Ulster fans were left stranded in Belfast.
Pausing for effect, Harry recommenced his announcement with the observation that Travel Solutions, 40 souls had chosen to get us to Milton Keynes, would, actually get you there. This raised a laugh and a mild round of applause.
Many amongst our small party whom braved a night stretched out on the bar seats of the Liverpool boat, spared a thought for the luckless Ulster supporters stranded by a missing pilot in Belfast.
Our party were an eclectic bunch, having made acquaintance with the Armoy Armada the previous evening on the boat. The conversation about sheep continued at the breakfast stop the next morning with my travelling companion Beeman, a biochemist, and part time shepherd in the thick of it.
My knowledge of sheep is limited to Texel Doubry Ferkins, so when Beeman and the Armoy Armada began conversing about rams and lambs I was in a woolly minded state.
Rugby of course dominated our thoughts, mostly of the sobering reality variety but tinged with a keen sense of anticipation for the game to come.
No. 2 Keynesian Experience
Depsite our drivers apparent go slow as he neared Keynes we managed to arrive in the wasteland surrounding the stadium at about 11.45 Sunday morning and were greeted by an amazing sea of humanity bedecked in red, white, green and gold.
We made for the area containing the maximum number of supporters which as chance would have it, was beside the solitary Heineken beer wagon. Along the way, ‘Bills you like’ warned me to watch out for the red and white striped, topless duo masquerading as Ulster supporters.
Suitably armed with an ‘18’ certificate should I encounter this un-parsimonious sight, I fought my way to the beer truck only to find huge queues forming. A bloke told me to co-op an Ulsterman near the top of the queue and place an order with him.
Another bloke advised me to sally forth to the nearby ASDA but I determined with some foresight, I required plastic ‘glasses for the ASDA tinned beer, I armed myself with expensive pints of Heineken.
Beeman was dispatched to ruck and maul his way across the car park and tide of humanity to ASDA for further rations of the amber liquid.
I took this lull in beer hostilities to acquaint myself with my surroundings and closer inspection showed a major hijacking had occurred of the Heineken brolly tables by the FRU, cunningly disguised as Ulster supporters.
I recognised our eponymous FRU editor hiding behind ray bans and later a rather dubious red curly wig in an effort to remain anonymous rather than eponymous.
It was like Royal Ascot for Ulster supporters with the glitterati of Larne and the FRU represented around the plastic tables. Ragin’ lurked in the shade of a brolly out of the burning sun whilst Mr. and Mrs GC were standing up well to the rigours of baking heat, alcohol and standing up for the Ulstermen.
Beeman had brought a large red and white chequered flag and with the help of a Saintsman, pegged the emblem to a nearby lamp post making it look like Custer’s last standard at Little Big Horn.
He had of course returned from ASDA, drawing on all his experience as a former no.8 to maul his way back through the expanding crowds of supporters to reach our little outpost adjacent those rowdy FRU chaps.
The purpose in mounting our flag high was not so much to replicate Belfast’s more territorial streets but to enable Le Paul and his companions to locate us in the large crowd.
Le Paul had battled his way up from central France during the night and arrived around 1pm with his party of Jean Luc, Phil and two Englishmen.
Alerted to the disparaging nature of the Heineken beer truck, Le Paul dispatched his companions to ASDA and we were soon imbibing another 15 tins of Carlsberg and Guinness.
It was like a shark feeding frenzy. I think I managed about 3 tins of beer from that lot before I won a last Guinness at a ruck, poured it into my plastic glass and scuttled into the stadium.
No. 3 Keynesian Experience
The atmosphere in the MK stadium was exuberant but friendly with red and white interspersed amongst the more predominant green and gold colours of the Saints. Little Jackie Paper’s party were behind the posts and they gave it their all for Ulster throughout the match.
Beeman’s large flag caused consternation to a gentleman in an England shirt behind him. Sit on those empty seats to your left I advised, they probably belonged to some of the 70 stranded Ulster supporters. Initially irritated the fellow was soon seated happily in the unoccupied seats.
I doubted we would win this game but I am proud of the performance and believe we’ll learn from it for next year. It’s in the detail how we lost it with player’s not totally fit and others apparently sick before the game. It shouldn’t take away from the quality of the Saints team, they well deserved the win.
Many Saints fans appeared relieved to see their team triumph and I ended up shaking a lot of hands as a result. Too soon it was back on the bus for the hike up the M6 and straight on to the boat without so much as a peewee.
The Armoy Armada duly found a comfortable sleeping spot though they were suitably hazy as to its location. I subsequently spotted them sleeping in the kiddies play area and found a spot to lie down on the padded mattresses to give me a slightly more restful sleep than on the way out.
No.4 Keynesian Experience
A couple from the Dunloy area on the boat suggested a few supporters events outside Belfast might be an idea with the BBQ held somewhere other than Ravers.
They were both in the supporters club but it was HE who received all the literature in the post.
Kimble!!!
Sexism lives!
No.5 Keynesian Experience
Dylan Hartley’s attempt to get Wannenburg into trouble by claiming he’d bitten him were execrable and should not go unpunished. It’s time Dylan grew up.
Thankfully Ulster didn’t rise to the bait but it’s clear others have not been so restrained hence the amount of dark deeds perpetrated on Saints players over the last few seasons.
The Saints appear to attract all manner of eye gougers, thugs and rugby madmen, perhaps there’s a reason why!
The SKY team emitted an unmitigated wail, carried through to Rugby Club about Leinster’s ‘cheating’ against Leicester. Ably backed up by comments from the Tigers themselves, it’s amazing how hell hath no fury like the cheaters cheated.
It’s embarrassing if only for it’s selective nature.
Some Saints players should take a leaf out of their supporters book whilst SKY appear to have joined the Scarlet O’Davies school of whinging.
Corrections, comments or questions?