From the Archive - Powergen Cup Final 2002

By Chris & Rich in the Archive
April 2 2003

Although revenge at Oxford was sweet we couldn't let the week go by without avoiding a mention of this game. London Irish v Marooned Saints at Twickenham last April. Not a great day on the pitch for the lads and personally something I never want to witness again. Here's what Rich and I thought.

Woe, woe and thrice Saints Cup Woe

By Chris on the Spot
Date: 22/4/2002

Well on paper just about every pundit and Saints supporter had this game won before kick off. Unfortunately for us the game was played on grass. The lush Twickenham turf where the Irish excelled to beat us at our own game to take the Powergen Cup in style.

The day had just about everything apart from 80 minutes of rugby in the middle from a Saints supporters point of view.

Travelling down on our coach with the merry bunch from Wolverton Cricket Club just about every car or coach we passed en route had either Saints shirted passengers or scarves and banners flying.
It was going to be our day!

On the drive into Twickenham it was Gold, Black and Green everywhere as the whole world and his brother from the Northampton area plus a few more from elsewhere around the globe travelled to HQ in Saintly hope.
It was going to be our day!

Basking in the midday sunshine at the Stoop watching our U21 side whilst eating smoked salmon (no prawn sarnies here) and quaffing champagne and chatting with friends old and new (hello again Rich!) and all was well with the Saints world. Our U21s lost but that couldn't hide the fact.
It was going to be our day!

Fed and watered we all wandered up to Twickenham with hopes high in a party atmosphere around the ground, even the policemen and the ticket touts were smiling. Entering the ground and climbing high to our seats. Expectation was high. The singing of 'Oh When' had already started in earnest and the 35,000 or so Saints supporters warmed up for the big occasion.
The teams ran out to a crescendo of sound. Saints in an unusual maroon. But who cared? No one.
It was going to be our day!

Then, unforunately, the game started.

It wasn't going to be our day!

I won't dwell to much on the action, you were all there and I don't want to give anyone recurring nightmares.
Suffice to say that the Irish, to their credit, played us at our own game and disrupted any gameplan we might have had from the off.

Although you couldn't put your finger on any one thing the Saints failed to perform all round. The big occasion got to some who were too emotioinal and went over the top while others were subdued in their contribution to the game for probably exactly the same reason.

A final score of five tries to Ben Cohens well taken one was testament to an Exiles side that thoroughly deserved their win. Theres no getting away with it we were outplayed in every department. Well done London Irish.

For the Saints it was a massive dissapointment but you do not become a bad side overnight.
The game must be put down to experience and built on. Knowing what coach Smudger is like it sure as hell aint gonna happen again!

We will learn from this and the next time we get to a final at HQ we will know what stands before us both in opposition and our own mental demons to be kept in check.

And next time.

It just might be our day!!

Rich reflects on the day at Twickenham

By Rich on the Spot
Date: 22/4/2002

This is more of a personal account of the day rather than a match report because we all saw the game. There are plenty of reports to read and this just seems more relevant and interesting. The first thing I want to say is that I had a fantastic day out.

From waking at 5am to the journey down, picnic and kick about in the Stoop car park, meeting up with lots of people, the banter with London Irish fans, the atmosphere in the stadium, the match (if you can call it that!), the journey home and then the players fronting up in the Rodber Bar.

One thing has struck me and it's quite a big thing to realise. The rugby is only our focus; the real event is the massive family that are the Saints fans. Someone said to me on the coach on the way back: "Rich you're not gutted are you? I thought you'd be inconsolable!" I wasn't upset; I was having a great day. In a few days time I'll know if that's just the defence mechanisms of denial and rationalisation but right now I believe every word I'm saying. The Saints have lost cup finals before, the Saints have been relegated the Saints have suffered massive humiliating defeats before but one thing has never ever changed. Being a Saints fan is great fun and you make great friendships some of which will last for life.

To the game. All week I've been talking of two words: Motivation and Pressure. Yesterday those words came back to haunt me. A highly motivated London Irish side absolutely stuffed a Saints side that handled the pressure very poorly. The favourites tag hung like a millstone around the necks of the players who were slow of thought and deed where previously they'd tore in to the opposition.

Irish started with a bang and hit the Saints where it hurt. By the time they were 14-0 up the Saints were hitting the panic button and playing catch up rugby. Saints very rarely adapt to Steve Lander's interpretations of the laws and they just played into the hands of Irish's ferociously well-organised defence. The pressure was evident as every time Saints started their trademark driving play a knock on or accidental offside would stem the flow. Irish lapped this up and then were clinically effective at releasing their exceptionally quick back three.

As confidence haemorrhaged from the Saints the pressure continued to build. The lineouts were appalling and were a source of either slowing Saints flow or stealing the ball altogether. Two incidents summed the Saints day up. Firstly Grayson missing a simple kick and then the Dawson/Pountney bust up. As the teams ran in at half time the steady drip of pressure had increased on Saints to a torrential flow and Irish continued to grow in confidence. In truth Irish had done to the Saints what the Saints had done to Newcastle in the semi final.

The Saints tried and tried in the second half, there were contentious incidents and Lander appeared desperate not to use the cards in his pocket as Budge could have walked in the first ten minutes, Irish were penalised four or five times in a row in at the end of the first half and then Brendan Venter pole axed Dawson. After all that the double sin bin summed up the referees day, he didn't see what had gone on and went to the cards to prevent further incidents. Morris was sin binned for out scrummaging his opponent and then defending himself, possibly the poorest decision of the day.

Then came Cohen's try. The cross-field kick, of which, Grayson and Cohen, as a kicking catching team are fast becoming the masters. A great try, which was greeted by a great roar, the Saints supporters had gone quiet but the reaction was fantastic. It says everything about us lot that for three quarters of a match we are getting slaughtered but give us the tiniest glimmer of hope and we will urge the boys on. It wasn't to be and as the Saints got increasingly desperate the inevitable happened. Irish stuck the knife in and twisted with their late tries but to be fair it was no more than they deserved.

After the match everyone was downhearted but something made my day. The Irish fans didn't gloat they were incredibly gracious in victory, Kiplingesque in fact, as they were truly meeting with triumph and treating that impostor the same. We had loads of great banter with them and after an hour I actually felt pleased for them.

On the bus things were a bit quiet to start with. We had a Queen live at Wembley video on and it kind of turned us around. As Freddie belted out 'We are the Champions' the Guinness haze took us back to the 27th of May 2000, we sang along an remembered that sometimes you win the big games and nobody can ever take it away from you. Then we watched Grease (I know it sounds awfully sad!) and it was if the whole bus had decided that tomorrow's another day. By the time we arrived at the Gardens we were in the mood for night out.

I was quite pleasantly surprised in the Rodber bar. It was pretty near full of people and then the team arrived. We had chats with Jorgy and Daws (sounds a bit Duncanish I know!) who promised they'd put 100 points past Sarries. I asked Dawson about Lander and his response was quite interesting he said and I quote: " He (Lander) wasn't as good as he could have been but he had no influence on the result." Read into that what you will!

Then the moment that made my day. Wayne Smith climbed up on the bar and addressed everyone. He apologised for the result and promised us better in the future. I don't care if he is the ex All Blacks coach. To stand up in front of a crowd he refers to as "our people" takes guts and reflects well on his honesty and integrity. Budge also got up and talked of how the players were apprehensive about the reception they'd get after the game. He also promised a win on Saturday. Sarries beware!

So it wasn't a great game for Saints people. Another domestic trophy has past us by but the sun still rose this morning. We're on a journey and on the way there will be setbacks how we handle the bad times is more important than how hard we celebrate.

I'd still rather be a Saints fan than anything else in the world.

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