Strathmore report

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A MESSAGE from our [London Welsh] supporter, Ray Gething [upon watching us get thrashed by REME] - It is not how well you are able to play the game, but the spirit in which you play. [he also was pounding his chest and saying that we have "hywel"]

As the train pulled out we were joined by the ubiquitous Hugh O'Kane, who was conscripted into our services to play second row. Hu protested greatly that he was unfit and unable to play two consecutive matches, but he indeed proved otherwise...SEVERAL Disturbing events occurred at the beginning of the tour. First, Tony Jones travelled bedecked in leather accoutrements and carried, of all things, a purse. He was later observed consuming a submarine sandwich in a manner which imparted grave misgivings as to his sexual inclinations. Therefore, it was necessary to prohibit his rooming with John Rhodes, who insisted on carrying an umbrella throughout the entire trip, causing untold embarassment to other members of our party. ...Further, Brian D'Autremont needed to purchase a new grimmy the following morning as his old one was stuck together. He also obscenely ridiculed Jim T. who was attempting to perform his stretching exercises on the floor of the sleeper by likening his posture to Winnie the Pooh attempting to fornicate with a big tree. And lastly, it was revealed that Bob McClure is afraid of the dark, insisting on leaving the light on to the consternation of his room-mate.

AFTER THE MATCH [Glencorse Depot] we were provided a sumptuous feast which included cock-a-leekie soup and clootie dumpling and a bagpiper who marched about the long table. ... Thereafter we were treated to a proper "thrashing" with singing, piping, and a thoroughly exhausting dance, "Strip the Willow".

WE ENDED UP at a folk-pub until closing time, singing several rounds of "Flower of Scotland" which will be henceforth incorporated in our repertoire...Later at the hotel, Ross gave his kazoo and even his tour hat to the bartender, one Margaret...Uncle Jim was seen inthe company of a "greeneyed lady", green that is all over the bags under her eyes; she certainly was a match for him age-wise, and Jim generously palmed off her comely daughter to a very interested Bob McClue...The rest of the party did their utmost, quite unfortunately, to gross out three American girls they had picked up at the folk pub.

AND THAT EVENING [after the Strathie match] we were treated to a fare of hagis, turnips, and potatoes as well as Scotch broth before the pleasantries during which time Tony, Berndt, Ross, and John from Strathy played a water trick, [was this a three man lift?] and our good hosts were treated to "Singing in the Rain" [on successive visits, all the ladies from Forfar to Dundee would arrive at the Strathie Bar to see the Yanks perform Singing in the Rain]....Before leaving, the team was lined up back to belly to partake of a final shot of Scotland's contribution to civilization...it was noted with dismay that seeral of our players participated in a broadside moon from the us at our astonished hosts, who clambered on board to sing "Bonnie Charlie...Wull ye nae come back again" of which most of them didn't know the words

THAT EVENING [on the sleeper back to London] a chamber pot was removed from the sleeper to serve as a captain's cup from which all will be able to drink... [the Brits referred to these as "Gerries" as they resembled a German helmet tipped over].

Well, that's about all for now; the issue was four typed pages long; we went 1-4 (robbed at Strathie), and two added pages had pic's of Abbey and a write-up of Peter Lillington, REME, an international ref who ref'd our match at Arborfield. Also an obscene photo of Dave Burns, Tony Jones, and Don Kiszka mugging it up in a photo booth as well as some raunchy advert's from a dirty magazine Crazy Leo had purchased, with ad's such as "New Liquid Makes Her Suck You. Guaranteed to make any woman lick and suck uyou. She'll want to eat you every time! Yes, it's Spanish Fly 'Suck Me Liquid.'

One of the things I liked best about England was the pubs, the good cheer, the beer, pub grub, and a pleasant, sociable crowd, including the local eccentrics. I'd noticed it going downhill ever since they closed down the "Cockney Pride", where we used to muster before taking the overnight to Edinburgh, and turned it into a fast food place. In '93 Ann was working in London (at Allen & Overy, solicitors to the Queen near Temple Bar), so I popped over for a few days. I was killing time near her hotel in Mayfair, hoping to get a peek at Princess Di perhaps parading in front of her window whilst getting dressed, and I passed a fancy department store. To my shock and chagrin, instead of the Harris tweeds and Norfolk hunting jackets and stylish City suits, they had a mannequin sporting a Miami Dolphins jersey in the window. I had to take the tube to Paddington to get a proper fish and chips at Mickey's. A few years earlier we'd taken the train through the highlands to Inverness and hung out at the Railway Tavern which is now an ubiquitous feature of main train terminals. It's full of faux Victoriana and 20's memorabilia to create an historical pub experience. It had a Bertie Wooster theme, with a picture of Bertie playing cricket for England against Pakistan in 1926. One would have thought that someone in the design shop would have known enough history to the effect that there was no Pakistan until 1947. Let alone that the Brits would descend to playing against South Asians back when they were shooting them for demonstrating. They used them as "bat-boys" to carry their equipment for Christ's sake. In fact, when I stayed at a RAAF base in Malaya forty years ago, they were still referring to the Mess servants as bat-boys.


A well crafted article. A elegy to the British pub.

http://www.economist.com/node/17722946