On The Road Again*
[* = with apologies to the American band Canned Heat]
Saturday 18th February: Aviva Premiership Round 15: Bath Rugby v Harlequins at The Rec; Result – Bath Rugby 22 Harlequins 12: Bath Rugby 4 league points, Harlequins 0 league points.
So that’s it, then.
Harlequins remain one of the most consistent teams in English rugby’s elite division, having extended their unwanted record of having won away just once all season for another game.
It is technically premature to say it this early but in the view of most fans yesterday’s clash against Bath effectively ended any possibility we might make the play-offs this season. At best we are now looking at an outside chance of finishing in the top six (and making European rugby next year via the junior cup competition).
As I was going to be watching the game live on BT Sport, in prospect my Saturday was a normal domestic one. I was expecting a phone call from a fellow resident of the block on management company business but otherwise had no commitments beyond a morning laundry and supermarket food shop and a vague notion that I might take some exercise before strapping myself into my armchair for the 3.00pm kick-off.
And thus the day unfolded.
Most welcome of all was the bright warmish sunshine. In family life there is little better than a pleasant day, no pressure and an unhurried man in his car going about his business whilst wallowing in the expectation of spending the bulk of the afternoon watching his team pulling off an unlikely win.
When I returned home about 100 minutes later having done a perfect shop – well apart from the bleach that had been on the list The Boss had given me but which weirdly I had omitted to purchase – I decided not to bother with taking any exercise but instead to have my post-lunch nap before my lunch. This sounds illogical but made sense for two reasons. The Boss didn’t want me in the way whilst she was hoovering downstairs and therefore suggested it, pointing out that if I grabbed half an hour’s kip straight away, I could then have my lunch whilst she finished off by hoovering the bedroom. I didn’t tell her this but it also meant that I’d be free to flick through the newspapers in peace whilst watching the build-up to the match.
As the TV coverage began Quins director of rugby John Kingston got his excuses in early during his pre-match interview – we had most of our current internationals away in Six Nations squads and a total of twenty others unavailable for selection because of injury. He didn’t add that we were ‘on the road’ but he might as well have.
As we went into the last commercial break before kick-off I made myself the habitual cup of tea. Sadly, I wasn’t allowed to nip to the shop across the road for my preferred match-watching supply of chocolate (a Kit-Kat and a Crunchie bar) because The Boss, who put me on a dietary regime on 3rd January, had decreed that I had been four pounds over the acceptable at my earlier weekly 0900 hours Saturday morning weigh-in – that is, if I was expecting (as indeed was the case) to devour one of her home-made chicken tikka meals complete with pappadoms and onion bhajis last night.
To be completely blunt, by this point in proceedings the anticipatory dread factor was already overpowering its ‘hope’ counterpart. Although the BT presenters, pundits and commentators did their best to ‘big up’ the match they’d chosen to feature yesterday – apparently the three most recent Bath/Quins meetings had been ding-dong affairs averaging 55 points each – the disjointed and error-strewn first half, which finished 9-7 in Bath’s favour, was instantly forgettable despite our converted Tim Visser try.
After the break, up to about 55 minutes, Quins seemed to be gaining the upper hand in terms of territory and possession but then they suddenly conceded 50 metres through two penalties, allowing Bath to apply sustained pressure on our line, gain a converted Max Clark try and win the game (chief architect: Bath and Wales fly half Rhys Priestland who notched 17 points in all from the boot).
