If Tolkien taught us anything, it’s that some days aren’t about the comfort of the Shire—they’re about trudging into the shadow, locking shields, and discovering whether your mates will still be mates when the scoreboard starts looking like a prophecy you’d rather not read aloud.

And so it was for Hammersmith & Fulham, marching into contest with Jersey RFC: an outfit with the calm, weathered confidence of people who live surrounded by sea and therefore fear nothing—least of all a ruck.

The omens were mixed. The lads arrived with the usual pre-battle rites: boots tightened like armour straps, tape applied with the seriousness of medieval surgeons, and a quiet, unspoken agreement that whatever happened out there… it would definitely be someone else’s fault.

Then the whistle.

And like any good saga, the first act belonged to the villains. Jersey came out with the sort of purposeful intent normally reserved for siege engines. The ball moved, bodies collided, and the game immediately took on that “long afternoon at Helm’s Deep” feel—less about elegance, more about survival. Hammers stood firm where they could, scrambled where they had to, and generally tried not to look directly at the scoreboard in case it started speaking in riddles.

The boys take the field to the roar of the watching 1s

But epics aren’t epics without a response.

And Hammers responded the way heroes do: not with magic, but with stubbornness.

Enter Anushan, who decided that if there was going to be a fight, Hammers might as well land a meaningful blow. High pressure. A wayward pass. Interception. Try. Hope rekindled.

The Hammers faithful allowed themselves a brief smile—the kind that says, Right then. We’re in this.

From the tee, Geoff stepped up—part wizard, part gambler, entirely at the mercy of wind, angle, and whatever dark forces reside in touchline heckling. One conversion landed; the other didn’t. One from two—enough to keep the torch lit, even if the storm kept trying to put it out.

Jersey, though, are not a team that misplaces momentum and politely asks if you’d like to have it back. They pressed on with the cold efficiency of a well-run campaign. Every inch was contested, every carry answered, every collision taken as personal correspondence. Hammers battled, but Jersey kept finding ways to turn pressure into points, inch by inch, blow by blow.

Still—Hammers refused to let the story be written without a second chapter.

Step forward Gregor, who brought the sort of energy that turns weary legs into suddenly-not-that-weary legs. At the right time, in the right place, with the right amount of “not today, thanks,” Gregor crossed for Hammers’ second try.

For a moment, it felt like the tide might turn; like somewhere in the distance a horn sounded; like the cavalry might yet arrive.

But rugby—like war, like fantasy novels, like trying to leave the clubhouse early—rarely goes to plan.

Jersey rallied again, composed and relentless, and as the match ran into its final passages, the visitors’ control told. Hammers kept swinging—never folded, never stopped competing—but the gap remained, and the final whistle arrived with the blunt honesty of a closing chapter.

Final score: Jersey RFC 28 – 12 Hammersmith & Fulham
Tries: Gregor, Anushan
Conversions: Geoff 1/2

There will be no songs sung about the scoreline.

But there should be something said for the fight: two tries carved out against stern opposition, a side that kept fronting up even when the plot looked unfriendly, and enough moments of grit to suggest that this wasn’t an ending—just a hard page in a longer story.

The season rolls on. The fellowship regroups. And next week, the lads go again—older, angrier, and significantly more interested in the details of defensive spacing.

Its been a while since I wrote one of these, one of the (few) joys of being captain is you usually get to farm this out to someone but on this occasion its warranted. Keep reading to find out why. 

 The Thirsty 3s are on a roll this season currently sitting top of the league, albeit with a few more games over Belsize and Hampstead behind us, and are playing some lovely rugby at the moment and today was no different. With an early kick off set so we could enjoy Ireland offering England some tips in how to win games, the boys turned up nice and early in the morning to a calm dry day full of glee for the game. Credit to Old Streetonians as well who brought a team along, something they have admittedly struggled with this season, with a few lads doing a double shift from a Friday night game for their 1s which we really appreciated.  

The boys started brightly taking the restart and earning a penalty off a ruck and Sam Heron driving the ball into the opposition 22. A well set maul of the lineout carried the forwards towards the tryline before yours truly peeled off diving for the line. Old Streets were game though stopping a few phases on the line before forcing a knock on. Not the best reprieve for them given the Hammers scrum was on fire all day driving them backwards and forcing a poor clearance to touch. Hammers fired up the rolling maul again this time with the author diving right to dot down unopposed. 5 nil early on, hell of a start. Sam Heron rang the posts (for the first time in the day). This set the tone for a forward dominant display but with the backline we had we knew it was only a matter of time before they got stuck in the game. 

Hammers pulled together some lovely phases to get territory but the oppo were game for some tough work at the rucks and there was some good back and forth before they threatened the Hammers 22 for the first time. Some solid defence with double tackles and a turnover led to an exactly 50-22 from Sam Heron giving the forwards yet another chance for a rolling maul. The outcome was inevitable and as the try line beckoned offering your scribe a brace the returning Sandy Duncan, tired of waiting for his opportunity to score jumped onto the back of the maul stealing the ball and ultimately the try. An early solid contender for DOD stealing the ball off your captain who as hooker only ever scores off rolling mauls. Really took something to beat that, keep reading… conversion made, 12-0. 

Fast hands off the restart led to the boys making more gains and letting the backline stretch their legs. Excellent hands down the left, couple of big carries in the middle to allow the backs to hit the right edge and stretch the defence before Sam Nursey jogged into the space for his first of the day. 19-0 and the result was starting to look in the bag made only better by yet another big carry from Sandy Duncman off a lineout going well beyond the gainline allowing the forwards to carry round the corner on the front foot before the ball went wide allowing Mike Willis to carve through the defence from full back and outpace the covering defence to score. One hell of a conversion from out wide, ringing the post again but this time bouncing over meant the Hammers went into the half time drinks 26 nil up and keen for another round of doughnuts. 

With the wind behind them the Hammers started the second half full of beans, a returning Nathan Smith carrying off a lineout like a rampaging bull in a china shop bumping off players and making it from his own half to the 22 before an offload and a quick phase led to Sam Nursey grabbing his brace in the corner. The joy of some spectacular rugby was short lived as Nathan was left limping from the field, swift recovery mate. Sam Heron added the extras from out wide, 33-0 and the 3s were keen to make a statement. Step up Man of the Match Jonny Francis, stepping into centre to allow Sunny Duncman’s hamstrings to rest (IFYKYK), pouncing in to jackal the ball after a crunching tackle from his centre partner Kristian Thomson then offloading to allow Jules Storey to jog in for one of the easiest tries he’ll score all season. Lovely stuff from a Hammers defensive line looking to keep the pressure on, hungry for their doughnuts. The ball fell off the tee and whilst Mitch Currie did well to get a dropgoal off the score remained at 38-0.

KRistian Thompson and Mike Willis attacking the Old Streets line

The forwards weren’t done though, licking their lips at a 5m scrum after a fumble from Old Streets putting the ball dead. Huge pressure across a couple of phases led to Si Irwin busting through a weak tackle to dive under the posts from a good 5.5m out. He may have forgotten the decimal point when recounting it in the bar later as all good forwards do when telling others about their meat pies. Mitch adds the extras to bring the score to 45-0 and the boys wanting a half ton for the day. 

More credit to Old Street who, despite going down to 14 men after losing their scrum half to a head knock and front rower to a neck injury, kept fighting at the breakdowns and working hard with the ball in hand. Helped by a slip in discipline and the man in the middle looking to even the game up a bit they drove into the Hammers 22 building phases and taking quick taps to pile the pressure on. The defence was admirable, Spider Stannard stole a couple of lineouts in the red zone, Mitch Currie cleared out of our own dead ball area excellently but the Old Streets players kept running and the whistle kept blowing before the oppo’s number 8, playing a double stint after his Friday night lights game for the 1s crashed over for their try.  

The boys were gutted, dreams of Krispy Kremes up in smoke and tempers started to flare with the incessant penalties. Excellent defence and clean turnovers’ only reward being a penalty to the opposition on a number of occasions, especially after another great steal from MOM Jonny Francis led to a holding on call which was the final straw for this particularly tired and frustrated captain who decided to smash through a ruck, pick up the ball from an offside position and clear it before giving the bloke with the whistle a spray about his decision making. Definitely warranted a slice of cheddar, even if captains get the opportunity to offer their views on the game to the referee that was certainly not the way to do it. If asked again I’ll just suggest I wanted a break but didn’t have a hooker on the bench so it was my only option… not a good argument either, free pint well earnt. 

Luckily for this particular captain there is a great sense of pride at the club these days and the boys were not going to let up. The final 10 minutes were hard fought, 14 on 14, with lots of changes in possession and more dominant set pieces from Hammers to fight back up field just to be pinged backwards again. Some handbags from the rather upset Old Streets prop who didn’t enjoy his afternoon, unsurprisingly so, fired the boys up and after yet another crunching tackle set the ball loose, Sam Nursey – not content with just the 2 tries – swooped on the loose ball and sprinted across the 80 odd metres to put a finishing seal on the game and get the boys their half ton as a consolation for the lack of doughnuts.  

A good run out for the Thirsty 3s to push them closer to the top of the table and the best chance to win the league, certainly to get themselves a play-off berth for some extra post tour games in April. A good day out all round, Thamesians follow, after a week off for a quick trip to Jersey for the boys, in what will be a triple header at home. Definitely one to get excited about. 

Final score Hammers 3s 50 – 5 Old Streets 3s 

The day starts, as many away days do, with the meeting at East Putney Waitrose where the coach driver collects the Hammers. The coach journey offers the Hammers the chance to eat breakfast, fuelling for match, catch some shut-eye (for the night owls), and catch up after trundling through a harsh couple of days post thirsty-Thursday. This particular transit carried a favourable atmosphere of cheese, an attitude of trees, and a melancholy of disease.

Reaching their destination, the boys unloaded, unpacked, and settled into the two changing rooms provided: one a gloomy, fetid space for the unkempt and grotesque; the other gleaming with reflections from 360° mirrors and stocked with complimentary hairbrushes and moisturiser. Amazingly, the lads easily managed to organise themselves aptly into the respective changing rooms, and after their ritualised pitch walk, the Hammers prepared.

Tight shorts, beaten boots, and flashing red jerseys – time for the warmup.

The original saturnine mood of a forecasted rainy day was swiftly lifted as the English sun chose to shine with a pleasant warmth, partnered with winds ushering the clouds asunder. Hammers break led by Captain Tommy P; ready for kick-off. DONG… DONG— FWHEET— THWUMP! Bracknell initiate the match. The Hammers comfortably receive, organising into shape for an exit off 9, Ben Dugdale. The opponent catcher turned aghast due to an urgent chase from Tim Russell, 14, earning a penalty. An easy judgement and controlled kick create an attacking opportunity, applying instant pressure inside the opponents 22. A dart in and a driving maul carried the ball a further 10 metres. The ball travels from edge to edge before finding Charlie Scott, 11, who commands the Bracknell 11 to BE GONE as he subsequently plants the ball past the try line bang on the two-minute mark (120 seconds). Conversion successful, 9. 0 – 7.

Bracknell come back. Despite being a relatively clear day – and that is saying something given Bracknell appears to exist in a rain shadow – the pitch is a muddy bog, and in what has become an all too familiar tale, the Hammers undo their good opening work through the compounding of mistakes. Despite a clear take off the kick-off and a decent clearing kick, several phases later the Hammers begin find themselves on the losing side of a kick battle. A well-formed Bracknell maul is defended by an equally well-formed Hammers defense, but in a moment of madness, Jacob Poulton, 3, clears out the Bracknell 6  and decides he is Gary Goodrigde against Pau Herrera, circa February 16^th, 1996. His cheeky right on the Bracknell player manifests a slice of cheese that sees a sheepish Poulton having a rest on the sideline for 10. Bracknell, in the meantime, attack through a uneven Hammers defense and score through the middle and convert. Shortly after the restart, the situation repeats itself, except this time the home side attack from coast-to-coast. An uneven fold gives Bracknell a 2-on-1 on the right wing, allowing their floating hooker to slide in right at the corner. 10-5.  This is followed by a regulation red infringement leading to a regulation Bracknell penalty kick. 13-5. The boys know they need to get their head back in the game. They need something.

That “something” starts within their own half from a lineout. The planned strike delivers the ball to Bryce Morgan, 15, fleet of foot and elusive as smoke, who slips the first tackle and offloads through the second, releasing Tim Russell bursting through with pace to earn extra yards and a penalty advantage. Within two phases, play has returned to the starting edge, allowing the team to maintain their attacking shape and continue with momentum. Feeding the ball back right, Bryce Morgan, ever nimble, steps and weaves to break the gain‑line yet again, sowing the disruption needed for Edward Shand, 10, to grubber through the five‑metre line and claim a try. Ben gets the extras, 13–12.

The second half is initiated with a nourishment of collisions, but the curse strikes again, and the boys conceede an early try. Showing that they seem to fight hardest when under pressure, the Hammers responded with a ferocity that powered them through ~25 phases of assault rounded by a hard-earned penalty of their own. From it, a driving maul — unstoppable via legal means, resulting in some Bracknell cheese this time — celebrated a consecutive penalty five metres from the try line, securing an exciting opportunity. With repeated success in mind, a direct dart delivered into a driving maul was the most logical option, and this attempt saw Dan Hostetler, 2, square over the Bracknell try-line. 20-17.

Bracknell strike back. A Hammers penalty sees them the home side kick to corner, and fair play, it’s a good one. Right on the Hammers 5. A solid Bracknell maul again meets a ferocious Hammers defence and is shredded, but in what is a cruel blow by the Rugby gods, a sublime rip by Ben Dugdale see the the ball pop right out into the unexpected hands of the Bracnkell hooker. He flops down for a try, taking the score line out to 25-17.

Entering the final ten minutes of the match, the Hammers have a right‑hand‑side scrum inside the opposition half. A solid platform makes it simple work for 9 to feed the pill straight to Marshall MacLeod, 12, who tips it blindly inside to Russell. He stings through the defenders, only to be halted by an ignominious high tackle from Bracknell’s 21. No matter — one wide pass, then a second, is received by our own Hammer Hermes, Bryce Morgan, who delivers the message past two would‑be interceptors for all to hear: try time. 25–22. We’re on!

No, we’re not. A wayward pass whilst attacking on the half-way line finds grass, surrendering possession and momentum at a crucial time. Hardly terminal, it was followed up by Marshall MacLeod performing a King Kong (hollow) rock smash, which – while protecting his dearest Ann Darrow from the dinosaurs on Skull Island – saw a penalty reversed. From this point, Bracknell play territory, and the Hammers are forced to run everything from their 22 in an attempt to keep the ball alive. Two penalties awarded to Bracknell in the dying minutes allow them to slot six more points, stripping the Hammers of an extra bonus point. Final score: 31–22.

It was a performance featuring sublime periods of superior Rugby undone by crucial errors at crucial times. Effort and heart are present in spades, but it will be execution and discipline that will have to see them through against Camberly on the 14th. Let’s go boys!

With a gutsy performance last week that resulted in a narrow away win, the ******** where back on deck at the Hurlingham fortress. With a strong side selected, the boys were keen as mustard to put on a good performance against Horsham. After a questionable warmup and some frantic pregame chat, Nugget (pronounced Nu/Jay) calmed the boys’ nerves with his ever smooth, peaceful pregame guidance.

Kick off started and to no one’s shock the ******** gave away a penalty within 5 seconds of the whistle. Some strong defence and pilfering (jackling), saw the hammers achieve some penalties of their own and marched back into the opposition 22. As Horsham threw their first not straight lineout of the afternoon (many more to come) the hammers successfully won a scrum and managed to attack out wide in the 15 channels. George ‘milf hunter’ Nellany managed to use some of his pace and athleticism to get the ******** within breathing distance of the line, where some quick thinking by Gregor and Russell saw the ball go short side for an unselfish Sam ‘Nurse Shark’ Nursey try in the corner.

Horsham were looking to bounce back and after some more penalties, they were tapping and going 5m out from our line. Good urgency and courage from reliable forwards Charlie ‘stretch’ Lang and Dylan ‘nice guy’ Johns saw Horsham held up at the line. Unfortunately, with several penalties going against us, they eventually went over to even up the scores. Game on.

Strong defence from the likes of Hugo ‘Frankenstein’s monster’ Vati, was encouraging the troops, especially after he was sat down by his opposing number in embarrassing fashion. Speaking of the troops, it was only a matter of time before Dylan ‘god bless our troops’ Blicki got close to the line, with too much power he burrowed his way over for the *******’s 2^nd try.

From here the ******** fell into some good shape in patches, with play effortlessly flowing out the back and via the tip option. When they held onto it the backs where gilding around the park, making a mockery of their opposing number. Some good connection from Geoff Mahon, Ted Shand and Jake Paul saw the ******** playing that expansive footy we try so hard to get right at training. Having inspired the forwards, Andrew Rogan, fresh off the plane that morning made a charge down the right edge, linking with Gunner to successfully (depends who you ask) in and away the opposing winger. The boys could do no wrong.

Shortly after, forwards Jack ‘Jmac’ Mcgregor and Harry Tate showed a combination of power and speed to run a good 2 man try straight through the middle to inject some more life into the ********.

In the second half, the boys were told by Nugget to tighten up the reigns a little. Again, in patches the ******** listened, but you can’t keep a ******* from doing something stupid for too long, as Ted Shand fired a terrible pass to Harry Tate resulting in a missed opportunity. A similar instance right after ensued as Matt Jones got put in arguable the best hole of his hammers career before a bit of loose ball resulted in a turn over (FINEEE).

At this point, the boys were blowing hard, and after a penalty for God knows what Captain Jmac took the points to give the boys a bit of a breather. Nugget was not happy. No doubt he would have pushed on if he were out on the field….

With the Bomb Squad (POM Squad), of Kioko and Samson ‘almost a prop´Hart, providing some much valuable line running, defensive pressure and genuine fitness injection the ******** completely ran Horsham out of the fight. With the ******** firing on all cylinders, and Gregor showing some levels of aggression he must burry deep down inside, the 2s linked for an almost full field try, which included some great support running from Nursey and Charlie Scott . Special mention to Geoff who only missed one goal all day.

Final score 43-5.