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>Nearly didn't get to see THE game. The return journey >on the ski train after 10 days in the alps had been >delayed, then the ferry was late, then the car had a >puncture in Dover Seaport which made diving into the >first available pub in Dover the only option to see >the game. > >The abuse handed out by the completely English >audinece was worth enduring. We were dead and buried >and I was looking forlornly into my Diet Coke >(designated driver see). The line-out formed, "a try >here and we could win it" I joked. The rest as they >say is history, looking back it seemed like Scott >Gibbs danced through the English defence. The jeering >as Jenks lined the kick up was unbelievable inside the >pub, but then there was silence except for me dancing >and singing. > >The drive home round the M25 was entertaining, me and >3 English mates, all being very quiet while I sang my >head off. Rugby shirt was jammed in the sun roof and >flapped behind us until PC Jobsworth pulled me over >just before the Guildford junction and I was lucky not >to get booked, not that I would have cared.

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