PROP IDYLL

Mentioned in the last blog that I’d bumped into an old teammate last week, old being the operative word for Scott. He had a chequered career on and off the pitch and it’s not for me to spill the beans round the fireplace.

Suffice to say props are interesting characters and having got to know a few of these front row beasts over the years I played, there is a bucketful of stories about them. Regrettably some of the most interesting cannot be told on these pages due to their colourful plots.

Without naming names or defaming characters, there was the guy who gave a mistress the address of his workplace pretending it was his penthouse apartment and not actually a police station. Things unravelled when the women decided she wanted to visit his apartment. Fortunately the visit and relationship were called off before it got interesting for all the wrong reasons.

There’s a prop married twice – to the same woman!!!

Prop Idyll 2 – A Strange Sight!

Fashion was generally not their strongest suit and one beefy lad dressed in blazer and Evaprest trousers. He certainly stood out, especially when his fellow front row buddies upended him in his chair in the clubhouse and he lay motionless on his back. His stubby legs, natty socks and slip on shoes peeked just over the top of the bar table. A strange sight!!

Two opposition props from the rural part of the country stood in the shower and were discussing Saturday night’s entertainment. The first one was all for the disco but the second one who could barely rotate his head, declined blaming an afternoon in the wringer at the hands of a prop from the parachute regiment!!

Recall a tighthead who was a trouble-shooter for a government department.

A local ‘hood’ was making threatening noises towards staff when out stepped our ‘friendly’ prop/manager, who just happened to be visiting the office. He lifted the troublemaker by the neck, off his feet, and pinned him against the wall.

A phone call to the police later and local ‘tough’ guy was on his way out the door, missing a few benefits!!

Prop Idyll 3 – Pretending To Be a Speed Bump!!

On the pitch they could be a fearsome sight bearing down on yours truly, a 12 stone weakling. On one occasion following a mistimed throw at a lineout I found a prop motoring towards me with gritted teeth and a look of utter contempt.

After saying a short prayer I prepared myself to make a head on tackle and become a speed bump. Surprisingly I survived and brought the galloping rhino to the ground, rising as though in the afterlife to the sound of cheers and back slaps from teammates.

To this day it’s still a mystery how I managed it but nevertheless I count it as triumph in adversity.

Prop Idyll 4 – A Veteran’s Utterances

Last word must go to the veteran prop who spying our captain writhing in agony and claiming his back was undone, rumbled up and enquired if the victim could feel his balls.

“Yes!” moaned the troubled captain.

“You’ll be fine,” rapped the veteran, before rumbling off to join his fellow front row veterans and plot the assault in the next scrum.

It takes all sorts to make a game.

There’s Life in the Old Dog Yet!

There is little substantial rugby news to report on this week except to say there’s life in the old dog yet with Johan Muller stepping up to the Springbok Tri Nations squad.

Although missing a scrum hatful of established star’s this is the sort of opportunity the ‘mad’ Muller can take and it’s not beyond doubt he could end up in the RWC squad. Disappointing from an Ulster rugby perspective and selfish of course but would cap a fine year for the big lad.

Biker Days of Yore

Having threatened for some time to buy a pushbike, I finally made a purchase Friday week ago just in time for the Tour De France and the Twelfth. Sunday last was a glorious warm, if slightly damp morning and I set out for Comber and a cup of coffee/scone in the Sugarcane coffee house.

Suitably reinforced round the midriff I once again saddled up and made a somewhat dubious decision to avoid a steep hill out of Comber and return home by a circuitous country road route.

The plan was to drink in the rolling hills of County Down farmland swathed in sunlight, view the hills of Antrim in an easterly direction and the peaks of the Mournes simmering blue to the south.

Sadly this idyll had one vital missing ingredient, namely my fitness.

No longer the athlete I was once was, I finally dismounted at the top of a steep, (for me at least), climb and walked leaden legged to the summit. The County Down countryside does assume a beautiful vista in the summer sun. It is a world away from the troubled streets of Belfast and some of our towns.

To enjoy it on a bicycle entails fitness to surmount the rolling drumlins that are a feature of this part of our country. As I said to the missus when I finally got back.

“The Tour De France never looked easier than watching from an armchair”.

Don’t Doubt The Pain

The Tour De France staggered through its first week to the resounding cacophony of crashes, some bizarre, some horrendous and some the normal milieu of pro cycle racing.

Once again a poster on the UAFC site excelled himself with this observation:

“I used to love the tour but the drug-addled Lance Armstrong a.k.a Superdrug and his likes have ruined it. Alberto Contador? Yes your right of course, cycling is as clean as a whistle. Its really awful those French crowds booing him On yer bike pal.”

On Sunday perhaps the worst ‘accidents’ occurred with the ultimate crash involving a French television car attempting to drive through a gap that wasn’t there. It brought down two riders, one of whom was flung into a barbed wire fence.

The rider who hit the fence remounted complete with a new pair of shorts, the ones he’d been wearing having been ripped to shreds along with the skin on his backside.

He was filmed shortly after still receiving treatment as he pedalled, from a medic on a motorbike. The two riders finally made it to the finish line and the one that hit the barbed wire will start Tuesday’s stage with up to 30 stitches in lacerations across his backside.

Now I don’t care whether you think the pro cycling is drug addled or not but these are guys are as tough as they come. You have to admire someone who has just escaped potential death or serious injury from a car and attempts to race on.

We are fond of talking about how tough pro rugby is and how playing a match is likened to being in a car crash. In their own way the pro cyclists are as tough as anyone in their respective sports. The majority earn my respect and admiration for the way they earn their living.