Scarlets v Tigers Match Report
By Rich & Andrea W
January 18 2011
An agreeable drive down to South West Wales punctuated by a pleasant stop for lunch at Ross-on-Wye (good cider) and here we are at another new stadium to us. The Mem says we’re doing well this season, ticking off new away grounds. Well - we’re doing well this year that is!
So it’s Parc-y-Scarlets this week and ‘toot’ goes Mr Roland’s whistle (a sound we’re going to get sick of it transpires) and off we go again – oh and Tigers let another kick-off bounce as Tony Allen and Matt Smith both wait for the other to claim it. I wish they wouldn’t do that! The local boys behind us have told us they can move the ball quick and score tries! Bother we think – let’s not do this again.
But the danger is snuffed out satisfactorily this week and Tigers settle, gaining the upper hand early on. It al looks decent and the first ten minutes rattle by with a couple of Toby Flood penalties fair reward for good work, carrying hard, and probing for space. More than once we get outside them and it looks dangerous only to peter out – once Marcos Ayerza is the winger and another time Alex Tuilagi goes down after a marginally late challenge. More than the previous week’s perhaps this was a penalty – but only just and on another day it wouldn’t have been. Word to Alex – stop looking for the penalty and try to stay on your feet!
Anyway – pressure looks good. Another scrummage penalty on the 22 and Ben Youngs is off; in behind the defence but instead of it leading to a clean ball, a worrying development. Too many forwards hanging off of the ruck – and a turn-over. Bother. Bother!
And as if encouraged Scarlets are playing now. Aggressive at the breakdown there’s half a yard of space for Jonathan Davies (now where have I heard that name before) and he has good feet for a big lad. A hand off and a half tackle and he’s free. The cover sweeps but he off-loads and wing Morgan Stroddart is off down the left, skating easily over the pristine, emerald green carpet (no seriously – the best pitch I’ve ever seen!) with Alex in chase. The big Samoan almost has him but against the run of things the Welsh side are in front. The touch-line conversion from ever-green Stephen Jones and it’s 7-6 and we’re not sure how.
Still – we’ve been in charge until now haven’t we?
But it’s as if two switches have been flicked and as Scarlets throw themselves into every breakdown we seem to have decided to underload the contact area and turn-overs ensue – lots of turn-overs. And we’ve stopped taking the ball at pace. We have possession – plenty of it as the home side’s set-piece creaks and cracks and splinters but we can do nothing with it except conceded penalties to release pressure and then to concede a 4 point lead. It’s a good thing Jonesey has got the wrong boots on – it could – it should be more as Tigers talk back to the oh so typically erratic Mr Roland. Please somebody introduce him to the law book and his other eye! And maybe a maths primer – with special attention to angles and degrees – clue 30-45 degrees is less than 90 degrees!
Harrumph. We go in at half time a little lucky perhaps to be only 4 points adrift.
Bother! Bother! Bother!
The Scarlets folk around us seem caught between a sort of delirium and bewilderment!
Time for the half-time management intervention and motivational speech from Cockers – or put otherwise - time to throw some tea-cups!
Second half – ok we look a little more solid – a little more direct. There’s more pace and there’s more aggression at the break-down. The first few minutes of the half are well matched but steadily there’s a turn in the momentum. Tigers start to take control.
Alex, perhaps after watching his little brother is starting to motor. He runs at space. He stays on his feet. He off-loads. Manu bounces off tackles and drives on and drags in defenders by the dozen it seems. Tony Allen runs at space, his feet dancing. And the big old truck that is the Leicester pack is staring to roll and rumble.
Despite an exchange of penalties by Toby Flood and his opposite number the advantage is swinging and the crowd is quieter, less voluble; the boisterous mood begins to ebb.
And the tide turns quickly when it does!
Allen spies a gap and is through it and away. George Chuter shows there’s life in the old dog yet with a clever, deft little tap on to Alex who’s off down that wing again – it’s all happening over there – which is an irritation to your correspondent! With the cover coming across he dives early to slide in – just. And the try is scored.
Unconverted the score is 13-14 – too close.
But Tigers are on the front-foot now, driving through the plucky home defence. Holes are punched, pick and drive. The maul begins to rumble and turnovers come. From the base of a ruck just inside his own half Youngs picks up and goes through the hole that seemed to appear from no-where to his left. He picks up his heels and beats the cover to the same corner! That’s better – lots. The lad’s quick you know I tell the friendly Welshman behind me. He nods and sups his beer and grins lopsidedly.
Again the wind makes the conversion hard and from out wide again Flood misses but the lead is 6 points. Tigers are in the ascendancy but Scarlets still look dangerous when they get ball.
At this point I’d just like to say that I like Llanelli. Always have. Their fans have, every time I’ve met them they’ve been friendly, knowledgeable and passionate. Good company and their club (if it can be still called that) does them proud with their handsome – if odd – new stadium with its sumptuous pitch and players who play for their shirt and each other – in the way of a famous old 13 whose number adorns their training shirts and much of their ground. They have an identity of their own. I just hope they can get a few more of those passionate punters through the turnstile to appreciate it. It was a good crowd but Parc-y-Scarlets is only ¾ full. Still I wish them well.
But how they must wish they had two props and a lock forward. With some heavy artillery up-front they could be good…very, very good. Their back-row does it all – quick and strong, combative at the break-down they carry well and they link to the backs who look constantly dangerous as they move, cutting angles and coming on at pace as the point of attack varies. And in the captain Matthew Rees they have a real gem at hooker – I wonder when his contract’s up?
By now their starting to tire. The weight of collisions is taking its toll. Their scrum is in pieces – at times literally and even Mr Roland has worked that out.
A penalty ensues and Flood’s kick is good, to stretch the gap to beyond a score at 13-22. And then another to nail it down before indiscipline strikes again and Tom Waldrom walks away with the ball after an infringement on the floor. Mr Important is not pleased and out comes his card. He seems to relish the moment with his chest pumped out as he dismisses the errant Kiwi. With less than 10 to go it’s an early bath for him and we’ll see it out with 14.
But it seems to matter none. What 8 can do it seems so can 7. Ball is stolen at the lineout and Tigers sense blood – a bonus point perhaps. They kick to the corner at an ensuing infringement (they’re coming fast and furious from the Welsh side now – I wonder to myself if Mr Roland has lost his cards) and the catch and drive is on they’re up and close and from the base Steve Mafi barrels over. On for Craig Newby at the half-time break he’s played well and his try is fair reward.
The conversion is drop-goaled by Flood to hurry things up chasing the 4th score but to no avail, the last word being left to the hosts to craft at last a clever score that their wit and pace perhaps deserved. They probe and dart and keep the ball until the old maestro Jones S of the local manor clips a clever nudge over the defence on the angle and in darts the Scotsman once I believe of Belvoir, Sean Lamont for the try.
Ah fair do’s as Mr Uppity blows no-side.
Hand shaking and warm words from the locals around us and, hurrah, a moment’s appreciation from the team as they turn to applaud the travelling Tiger’s fans.
‘Champagne Rugby’ they shouted around us as their boys moved the ball. ‘Bitter Beer more like,’ I thought – ‘in more ways than one!’
A bonus point lost? Hmmm – well maybe – but it didn’t feel like that at the time. A poor first half perhaps saw to that but more than that it never felt safe to risk it until late – these were not, for all their difficulties, poor opponents and it was hard graft for the victors.
Rather than bemoan that lost extra point we should be more irked by the two points squandered at home to Perpignan in this pool. That was inexcusable. This was something else entirely: a good, hard fought away win against committed and challenging but fundamentally limited opposition.
Still we’re not out of it. Onwards and upwards!
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Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 2011:01:25:16:25:47 by Stephen Bath.
You should have said you were going through Ross I used to live four miles away from that town and there are some wonderful little pubs tucked away in the villages.
Odd place though Ross, more Welsh than English at Six Nations time when Welsh flags out number the cross of St George in the town centre.
But it's bandit country round there and should be treated with suspicion! Twixt Gloucester and Wales - I don't know which is the more to be concerned at!
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Nearby Ruardean is notorious for the story that back in the mists of time a young maiden of the village became pregnant and when questioned closley by her parents and the others in the village as to the miscreant who had deflowered her she eventaually blamed the performing bear that was visiting the area.
The Foresters duly went off and executed the bear.
When I first moved to the area (I didn't, on the advice of locals, live in the Forest itself but nearby north of Ross just over the border in Herefordhire. I'd learned from my experience of living in Lancashire and Derbyshire to be careful where, as southerner, I lived) I was warned to never, ever go into a pub in the Forest and ask "Who Killed The Bear"
But it's someone else's turn next! And I don't mean Rex who has done more than his share too.
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I saw recordings upon my return of this and the Stains game [unaware of the scores] and was impressed by both displays. True, there were moments of anguish as nerves or imperfections sucked the heart gullet-wards, but then who amongst is a qualified stone thrower?
Sterling work Rich - thanks
'Lions led by donkeys' .. Lest we forget