VoyForums
[ Show ]
Support VoyForums
[ Shrink ]
VoyForums Announcement: Programming and providing support for this service has been a labor of love since 1997. We are one of the few services online who values our users' privacy, and have never sold your information. We have even fought hard to defend your privacy in legal cases; however, we've done it with almost no financial support -- paying out of pocket to continue providing the service. Due to the issues imposed on us by advertisers, we also stopped hosting most ads on the forums many years ago. We hope you appreciate our efforts.

Show your support by donating any amount. (Note: We are still technically a for-profit company, so your contribution is not tax-deductible.) PayPal Acct: Feedback:

Donate to VoyForums (PayPal):

Login ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 123[4] ]


[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: 03:41:33 01/18/02 Fri
Author: Johni ten fingers
Subject: Wembleee!!

April 1999 found me home from uni in Tenby. I was working for meagre wages in an attempt to support the lifestyle of booze and loose women that passes for higher education. The biggest day of the rugby calendar and I had the misfortune to be stuck behind the till in one of those shite gift shops that Tenby specialises in. Fortunately my boss took pity on me, partially because he wanted to see the game too, and closed the shop early. Come the national anthems (having missed Tom and Max)I was safely in the pub and tucking into my 2nd pint. A severe lack of red shirts and a loud monotonous rendition of G.S.T.Q, followed by a torrent of piss taking as I stood on my chair to sing "Hen wlad fy'n nhadau" confirmed my worst fears that I was virtually the only Welshman in the pub, in what passed for my hometown! But that's Tenby for you. Then they scored a try and I decided to seek more hospitable company else where.
Having found my mates in a much more suitable venue, the drink flowed and the game went on, desperately hanging in the balance. Maybe it was the drink, but by about 70 minutes I had had a guts-full. The Saes were on top and after what had happened in Twickenham the year before, I couldn't stomach another loss. I drunkenly declared to me mates that I couldn't take losing to THEM again, so despite abuse from the boys, I set off to walk the 5 miles home.

My path took my past the pub I had been been in earlier, and as I walked past I heard shouts and screams coming from inside. Must be the end of the game I thought, and stumbled over to the window just in time to see the replay of a stocky figure in a Red jersey dancing past what seemed like the whole Saes defence to score, and the piss takers with their heads in their hands. I banged on the window winked give them the tow finger salute and ran like a whippet back to where my mates were, thinking you can do it Jenks you can do it! I bulled my way in through the pub door just in time to see the ginja ninja slot over the conversion.YYYYEESSSSSSS!!
Well the rest is hazy, the missed drop goal, Howarth taking that mark, cheers and tears at the final whistle, drinking, having crockery thrown at me by a girl who claimed to be Scott Gibbs' cousin, more drinking and that special atmosphere that means you feel the need to start conversations with complete strangers.
They don't happen all that often but days like that are why we turn up for the boys whatever happens and reward for the black days that have happened before and and since. Thank you for letting me share it with you.

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

[ Contact Forum Admin ]


Forum timezone: GMT-8
VF Version: 3.00b, ConfDB:
Before posting please read our privacy policy.
VoyForums(tm) is a Free Service from Voyager Info-Systems.
Copyright © 1998-2019 Voyager Info-Systems. All Rights Reserved.