Following the previous week’s loss to Ionians 3rd XV, Doncaster’s veterans returned to winning ways last week, recording a resounding victory against a spirited Pontefract XV in sweltering conditions more akin to the Costa Blanca than Castle Park. After the disappointment of Hull whoever the Dragons played were going to feel the backlash, especially with a society referee and the Dragons actually fielding a recognised back line - no disrespect to the lardy forwards who have filled in (literally) for the season’s openers. The Captains reservations about playing an open aged side on the old first team pitch proved unfounded as the Dragons dominated in every department running out 61 – 12 winners. Despite the score line Ponty did their best and competed with a smile on their faces for the full 80 minutes.
The match saw the return of Dragons captain, leg end and ever inflating heavyweight Dave Thomas to the starting line up. Having clearly embraced the butter & beer diet prescribed by the Knights nutritionist for players recovering from injury over the summer, our esteemed leaders’ added body weight has finally completed his transition from full back to front row forward. He returned to the fold with cheeks like a hamster feeding and a stomach not dissimilar to a pregnant wench. The match also saw the return of the enigma that is Dean Malton; a player who rarely excites the crowd with flashes of brilliance but more often than not flashes of sheer madness.
The game didn’t get off to a brilliant start, Chris Conway attempted to kick off and showing the technical dexterity of a drunk launched the ball with the fizz of a fart barely six inches above the ground and only four yards forward. However, from the resulting scrum on half-way, Thomas took the first of many against the head and the backs combined superbly to put Malton in for the opening try. The rest of the half pretty much followed the same pattern; Doncaster’s forwards provided solid ball on the front foot and the backs belied their age to produce some slick handling and cutting running lines to score a number of tries. Conversions were few and far between, Conway’s opening grass cutter being replicated by Malton, Thomas and Bottomley. To their credit Pontefract stuck diligently to the task and nipped in for a try of their own, but the Dragons were always in control. Half time: Dragons 32 – Ponty 5
With 21 players wanting to take part half time brought a number of changes to the Dragons line-up. With a face a worrying shade of crimson Tony Jones was retired from the centres on medical grounds and Dave “Teflon” Miles replaced Hansen on the wing, though not before dropping the half time oranges.
In the 49th minute there was a rare site to enjoy. Following a lineout on half-way tight head prop and full time twitcher Paul Beach had been hiding out on the wing having been mesmerised by the mating call of a Woodpecker within Sandal Beat. To everyone’s horror, particularly his own, Ponty failed to make touch from inside their 22 and he found himself with ball in hand and in acres of space. The look of panic was quickly replaced by horror as our man realised there was no option but to attempt his first sprint in over nine seasons and make the 40 yard dash to the try line. There followed what can only be described as an extraordinary burst of 20 yards of really energetic power walking, 10 yards of losing balance and a further 5 yards falling over. With the defence rapidly closing in he made a desperate attempt to make it and understandably ignoring the cries from Teflon for the pass, he launched himself, arms out stretched for the whitewash only to hit the ground agonisingly short, wind himself and spill the ball forward. Quick as a flash the Ponty full back snapped up the ball and sprinted the length of the pitch to score under the posts. Despite his best efforts there was little sympathy for Beachy and in the bar later he was unanimously voted w***ker of the week.
The Dragons put this minor setback behind them and went on to win the game comfortably, with everyone getting at least half a game. The evening was complemented by lashings of ale.
The Weazel |
