2s can’t sustain strong start

Hammersmith and Fulham men’s 2nd XV travelled to Wimbledon on the back of a run of very impressive victories over some tough opposition.

The ‘Hammers’ as they are colloquially known by their friends and supporters, (which, to be clear, Hammersmith and Fulham council are not one of, and neither are the rich, privileged and arrogant residents that try to rule over Hurlingham park as if serfdom still existed) were looking to avenge several defeats inflicted upon them by Wimbledon 2nd XV last year.

‘Twas a miserable day, blustery wind and spatters of rain, but for the men in red, men of the soil, men who represent good, honest, decent and hardworking people, this barely registered as a factor in their mentality.

The first bit of good news was that Wimbledon had kindly allotted the game to be played on a flat pitch. This is worth mentioning, because, as you can no doubt have guessed, the usual 2nd XV pitch is on a slope, (2025 anyone?). The bad news was that this pitch was beside a small metal chain link fence abutting a patch of scrubland, (more on this later).

The warm up was good, the Hammers bench was stacked with their own Pom squad, Daniel Perry, Will Keyte and Luke Wilson, all adding weight and gravitas off the bench not to mention a debut to boot (Finn McCarthy – snorts haggis).

After sizing up the oppo who were representing Wimbledon 2nd XV, the men of south west London’s hardest borough were seriously fancying inflicting some hurt.

And so the first 20 minutes or so proved, with Chris Thompson setting the tone with a great interception and streaking clear, only to be narrowly hauled down before the try line. However, this led to great Hammers field position, with some great carrying from the forwards, (too many to name an individual, they all did a great job), with Dan Hindle being put over but unfortunately the referee, looking like a cross between an orc and a goblin, muttered a spell which caused Mr. Hindle to drop the ball.

It did not much matter as the puny ‘dons kicked the ball back and after some nice phase play from the big boys up front Henry Cowls (Dawg) went over, like a panzer in the Ardennes, for the first Hammers try. Ollie Weaver (I actually don’t know if he’s posh or working class, can someone at the club help me?) added the extras, Hammers up 7-0.

The Hammers then again started to play some good bloody rugger, preparing to give Wimbledon a buggering. Forwards (Dawwgggssss) again showing their worth and bashing their way towards the try line. Chris Thompson went full valleys juicehead mode and shot through a gap in the Wimbledon line and barrelled his way over score. Weaver (we call certain people by their surnames at this club as a sign of endearment) added the extras 14-0. This barrage of points and good play was all in the first 10-15 minutes of the match despite Grishnákh’s* best efforts (if you don’t know that reference, educate yourself). To paraphrase the words of the most learned Hugo Vati, upon the first or second scrum of the day Grishnákh* stated to both teams ‘you are going to learn what a referee with proper discipline is today boys’. Take from that what you will.

The ball was kicked off and after some arm wrestling in the middle of pitch Hammers got hammering and after some good play some slick hands out the back saw Sam Nursey slice over in the corner (three certainties, death, taxes and a Nursey try). Weaver with the conversion 21-0.

The play was restarted but after a minor scuffle the Wimbledon 12 (Gimp) blew his top and was sent to the bin after not being of the disciplined standard Grishnákh* expected.

The Hammers were cruising, but unknown to them, for a bruising. Despite being made up of weed like figures, Wimbledon, like a dogged mangy hound, refused to go away. After some lapse defending, unfortunately Wimbledon scored four tries without reply, their 10 converting each one, to be fair to him.

At half time the Hammers found themselves only just behind, from position of relative strength. Obviously it goes without saying that Grishnákh* had his malign influence on the match, not calling knock-ons, high tackles, generally just blowing his whistle at every opportunity, (probably lives on his own, selling avon). There was also the bizarre issue of the scrubland meaning that every penalty if kicked to that side was not actually kicked, but Grishnákh* decided that it was an automatic 15 metre gain for either side. Not a great pitch.

The second half kicked off, and like Cnut, the Hammers could not turn the tide. Wimbledon scored more tries, as the Hammers became a little ragged. However, anytime there was any physicality involved, the Hammers would dominate. After more tries conceded, the Pom squad was employed and this resulted in Henry Cowls going over from a driving maul again, as, as I said, once it came to physicality, Wimbledon like the French in WW2, surrendered to the Hammers blitzkrieg.

Alas, like the blitzkrieg, the Hammers were finding their supply/defensive lines stretched as they could not maintain the offensive. Wimbledon countered and more damage was done. Hammers fought till the end. Luke Wilson, receiving the ball 15 yards from the line pirouetted passed the first tackler, handed off the second before stepping the onrushing fullback to score to restore some pride in the shirt. I only wrote that for a laugh as Luke sometimes makes me say things with a breadknife (bants).

In reality he carried hard from five yards and scored. To be fair to Grishnákh* he did extend the second half, so after being told 5 minutes left, there were then 16 and so on. Unfortunately the Hammers war machine had exhausted itself and they could muster no more.

Wimbledon won on the day, but in the words of the Wealdstone Raider, they have no ground and no fans.

There were ugly scenes at full time as the Wimbeldon 12 attempted to take his top off (he’s a really great guy) and wrestle Grishnákh*. However this was sadly prevented. Utter Woke nonsense.