An Outsiders View

Parental Warning

In the words of a once proud and famous leader, ‘it is now fecking squeaky bum time’ when it comes to the winning and survival in the Guinness Premiership. A long and tough friggin battle of a season will now come to a conclusion, with every fecking match having an influence on top and bottom of the pile. Coaches, players and supporters, all as nervous as a teenager on Viagra watching a movie in front of his mum.

At the bottom, it is now all about nerve, guile and friggin guts with 4 games of the season to play, and one from four staring into the Championship with the look of a choir boy following his confirmation, preparing for his ‘gift’ from ‘Father’.

The current squeaky bum dwellers of the 12th slot are the Worcester Warriors. Three defeats in 4 games have seen them slip further into the shoite, as fellow strugglers, Leeds and Sale have found some sort of form at the business end of the campaign. Worcester’s refusal to score tries was compounded last Friday night in delightful Stockport, where the proverbial 8 pointer went the way of the home side.

Although this result was as big as any in their history (including giving the Cheetahs a good shoeing at HQ to win the title), it has by no means secured Sharks a spot in the top flight for season 2011/12. In fact, it is by no fecking means over for any fecker as the table shows. Leeds is within 3 points of the bottom, Sale 5 points, with the Falcons looking over their shoulder like a Swedish porn star, as they have played a game more.

Worcester will be the favourites to drop out of the league given their current plight, and survival by them would be Spar shop hoody hard to achieve, but ah, it is mathematically achievable. Two wins from the final four games for either of these sides will guarantee another year at the top table, and by feck it starts this weekend!

With Newcastle being distracted by an Amlin Challenge Cup quarter final at home to the Cardiff Blues, their peers will look to take their game in hand and move ever closer to the sweet spot of eleventh plus. Sale kick off the weekend with another Friday under lights, entertaining the Sorries, hoping to steal a march and put more pressure on the teams below them.

Leeds head to the Stoop to take on the Hairyqueens, with kick off scheduled 1 hour before Wuss welcome London Irish to Sixways.

Jesus to feck here, lads. The one hour leading distraction will only put more pressure and multi-fecking-tasking on the suffering Warrior supporters as they try and bellow their lads to the points needed, thereby ending as bad a sequence not seen since Archbishop Franz Ferdinand received a load of grief in Sarajevo. The Great Grandfather of Les would offer Worcester the best advice if given a chance, that of getting their heads down and running like feck in the face of adversity!

After this weekend, the picture may be a little clearer as to what each team must achieve to be a Premiership side. The game looming larger than God and John Lennon has to be the trip to Leeds of this Warriors side looking to grab a wee piece of confidence to go and grab the resulted fecking required. Failure in Yorkshire could ultimately mean a change in rugby status, and a DOR heading back to a wee village in Wales.

That is the future. So what of this weekend? Well Worcester Warriors will be taking on a London Irish team that has been as consistent as a pregnant woman’s hormones and with a huge Somme like injury list to boot. The chance of play off action is still in the hands of the Exiles albeit dented after the Pests grabbed a 5 point victory on Sunday. Fecking Penalty try my arse by the way!!!!! Debney rocks and shakes his underpanted bootie in place far removed from this earth!!!

Toby Booth will see this trip as the ideal opportunity to get the Irish back on friggin track, and will thrash the lads in training with vigour and a Lindi St Clair style discipline, given the way that they gifted points and territory to the Pests. Some have reported that he went doo-fecking-lally after this reverse, bursting into the song with an angry rendition of Hope Fell Down. The Squeeze back catalogue is a recent find by Mike Catt, and his find has obviously not been lost on his DOR.

It is fair to say that Great Britain has gained more points in the Eurovision Song contest from former Soviet state countries compared to those landed by Worcester Warriors this season. The chances that have been left on the pitch by the West Midlands side would drive even John McClane to tears.

Throughout this season, the tales of possession and territory but very little fecking clue has been witnessed and reported by all that have attended. Lehman Brothers would appear to have more a handle on being more resourceful as Wuss have squandered opportunities to win friggin thousands of matches, or at least 2. If the feckers could have converted 20% of their winning situations, then conversations in regards to the fecking ‘R’ word would be placed further North!

An example can be demonstrated in Reading. The draw specialists should have taken all the friggin points at the Madstad in the corresponding clash, but seemed to revel in fecking up once the chances came their way. Mike Ruddock’s hairline has diminished in speedy television arty style in front of the viewing public as his chargers committed errors or indiscretions when it would have been easier to score. 50 quid and whore house must be in his mind as the level of delivery in pulling!

Worcester Warriors are not a bad side, and certainly not the worst in Arthur’s league, but have an appetite to underachieve in the face of domination. For the run in, Ruddock needs to gather his chargers and challenge them to take the points on every visit to the oppos 22. It is not a time to watch champagne rugby on hard tracks, but to front up and hammer home the points when offered. The mantra of ‘it’s a simple game’ needs to be the focus. Willie Wonker can kick them to safety if given the platform and guide to do so.

Bodies on fire, brains on ice. Feck, it’s a shoite line, but makes I think, oh and laugh.

Wuss must maintain a level of performance and pressure to get the lads from the big smoke a wee bit nervous about taking advantage of the game in hand over London Wasps. In an area reputedly famed for being the birth place of the travelling community, a pikey attitude is required. More ‘bare knuckled fighter’ than ‘heather and peg’ selling fecker that is, for feck sake! Make Brad Pitt proud now lads.

They have the stars, who must now step up and show the class that they have. Sanderson, the once giant of sixfingersway, needs to get his head back in the game, and start slamming in his hard tackle, but not in a homo way. His leadership is the key to getting a minimum return of 2 wins from the final games. His form is not that of the great man he is, but he can rectify that little fecker.

Latham seems to always have a fecking great game, especially against the Irish, but he needs to be supported by the international class of Gear et al. Anyfecker hiding while in the colours of Worcester should be tied to a west country shoitehouse and left there to fecking well ..... well at least think about how they have let down the town, district and supporters down.

The worst case scenario is for the forest dwellers that follow the Glaws from Castle Grim with their webbed hands and feet to gloat as they send their bigger brother club down while they are at home!!!! Life would fecking suck for that to be the result of the international class players that have flattered to deceive when the fever begins close to the whitewash. 16 tries in 18 matches is not the return you would expect given the names pulling on the Alien crested shirt.

I actually think they will survive by the skin of their fecking teeth. They will win at Leeds and continue to maintain their hold over their feeder club, Gloucester, on the last day of the season. Leeds will be the lambs to the slaughter, given the games they have left, with 3 away days and that fecking huge game at Headingly.

As for Saturday, well let’s hope to feck Irish play a stormer and grab a fiver. Oh come on. The fecking play offs are at stake here!!!!!

Now, where the feck did I put that 2 pinter...........