Leicester v Sale Sharks
Goode Night Vienna!
It was never going to be easy. Welford Road on a wet Friday night against a team packed to the brim with International players – you wouldn’t really fancy it, would you? Even I wasn’t optimistic enough to take a punt on it. Alright, we were spared the bullocking charges of the rogue elephant-like, Alessano Tuilagi, thank goodness, and there was no Lewis Moody to give us the occasional penalty, but their bench was enough to send the shivers through you – Chuter, Moreno, Hamilton, Croft, Vesty and Erinle. All top players, yet not deemed good enough to start. The strength in depth is frightening.
All the headlines of course will probably revolve around Luke McAlister and his involvement in three of the tries. No doubt the critics are already lined up to take a pop and snipe and you can almost guess the by-lines. Well, all I would say is back off and leave the lad alone. This is only his second game: he’s barely had time to unpack his suitcase. The result had nothing to do with Big Mac, Sale were beaten by a superior side – no excuses, no scapegoats. Leicester Tigers played the conditions perfectly and fully deserved their victory. One nil to Marcelo Loffreda – end of story, or is it?
The conditions were perfect when we arrived. It was fairly mild with a bit of a breeze and the pitch looked peachy: perfect conditions you would say for a game of open, running rugby. That’s the game Sale wanted to play and the one they’re best at. Charlie would run the line and get the ball out to McAlister who’d chop and change from first to second receiver and then we’d unleash the backs: Cueto, Laharrague and Lamont would run the Tigers ragged. It’s a great plan in theory: ball in hand to tame the tiger.
The problem was, the weather wasn’t playing ball. With ten minutes to go before kick off the rain descended, and boy did it rain. Then came the wind which was gustier than anything Kingston Park throws at you. By the time the whistle blew Welford Road looked more like the Somme. Time to don the sou’westers and ponder the perennial question – if it had been dry, would things have been different? Answers on a postcard please.
Chris Day took the high ball from the kick off and gave the ball to Charlie. His kick up field was carried by the wind and caught by Geordan Murphy (henceforth known as G for reasons that will become clear). Goode took the ball and launched a massive high bomb which hung in the breeze then drifted back towards his advancing forwards. These are the sorts of conditions every full back hates – you have the Garryowen covered and then the wind drags it fifteen feet away from you. You could tell from the look on Cueto’s face that this was going to be a long night.
What you need to do in those circumstances is keep hold of the ball and try to get through the first 15 minutes without conceding. Unfortunately we did what we’ve done all season and banged the ball straight back without finding touch. Granted, Charlie was given little time with ball in hand as Leicester’s back row threesome of Corry, Abraham and Crane were in his face straight away. I never realised Corry could move that quickly, though he does tend to save his best games for us. Crane is just a class act and always produces the goods. Luke Abraham, a Chabalesque mini-me, though not quite so mini, set his own stall out for the night with probably the stand out performance, turning over ball on the floor and rucking ferociously. Do the Tigers have a talent conveyor belt?
Rudy Keil finally got enough purchase on the ball to find touch after a period of extended Leicester pressure and brought a temporary end to the aerial ping-pong. The Tigers secured their ball at the 5 metre line out and rumbled in field. Goode stepped away from the maul to get his runners moving, but a sniping tackle from Martens ended the threat. That was until the ball broke loose from the resulting ruck after quick work by Abraham brought the turnover. Frank Murphy (F) fed the ball to fly half Goode: he took the ball on and offloaded to G who drew the covering run of Lamont before shipping the ball to Johne Murphy (J) who skipped in the corner. A simple try that was executed perfectly leaving poor Rory isolated and facing a two on one. Goode converted as he invariably does. 4 minutes gone and 7 nil down. What was I saying about keeping the sheet clean for 15?
The early score put Sale on the back foot. Try as they might, Leicester were not prepared to give them an inch. When the ball wasn’t being belted from one end to the other, the Sharks’ seemingly preferred option was the chip and chase. In theory that was probably the best call given the weather, but it seemed that Sale were heavy on the chipping and a little lighter on the chasing. Leicester took every opportunity to run the ball back and increase the pressure on the Sharks beleaguered defence.
The only chink of light came on 12 minutes when Sale managed to reduce the deficit with a McAlister penalty. Kay was penalised by Chris White for hands in at a ruck just inside the Leicester half. The Crumbie Stand voiced its displeasure, but it seemed like a fair enough call. Big Mac carried over his fine kicking form from last week and struck the ball sweetly through the posts from the best part of 35 metres.
Sale’s game-plan needed more variety; I don’t think Sale ever got into Leicester’s 22 in the opening quarter. The up and under approach play favoured by Cueto and Laharrague just wasn’t working. Even when the kicks were followed up, tackles were not nailed and both winger and full back found themselves hopelessly out of position. The scrum and line out functioned reasonably well but at the breakdown Sale came out second best: Abraham was outstanding on the floor and seemed to be able to turn ball over at will. The Sharks continue to make the same mistakes and never seem to commit enough men to the breakdown – without the numbers, you’ll always risk losing possession.
The game was crying out for someone to take the initiative and mix things up. You’d normally expect either Charlie or McAlister to do this, but neither really had a hope as Cory and Crane refused to give them any time on the ball. Sale definitely missed Foden at full back. When he plays he brings that spark and cutting edge. He backs himself against the first man and isn’t afraid to run the ball back at the opposition. Without that option all Sale could rely on was the Garryowen and long tactical kicking from Hodgson. What seems perplexing, particularly this season, is why Sale rarely go for touch with a kick. Is it a conscious tactic, a ploy to keep the ball alive and hopefully make territorial gains? If it is, it tends to backfire and just invites the opposition on. With the likes of Leicester, that’s the last thing you want to do.
For all the territorial advantage though, the Tigers found it difficult to get the final killer pass away. Brave last-ditch Sale defending made sure of that. Goode almost turned the game with a lovely long switched pass from right to left that found Kay about 10 metres short of the Sale line. He cut back inside and offloaded to Hipkiss who in turn found J who was bundled over the line. Chris White decided the ball had been held up by Nacho Lobbe, but called the play back for a deliberate Sale knock on earlier in move. Goode kicked the easy penalty and the sides went in with Leicester leading by 10 points to 3. On the balance of play and possession it should probably have been a greater margin.
Thankfully the rain stopped in time for the second half and the game got underway with Sale opting to play in dirty grey. Vesty came on as a replacement for G, and immediately took the attack to Sale, running the ball from deep directly into the heart of the defence. Smith and Hipkiss probed and powered through the midfield looking for gaps, whilst Leicester’s infamous rolling maul clicked into gear making huge territorial gains and grinding down the tiring legs of the Sale forwards. The Sharks’ scrambled backline managed to avert the threat but the pressure was beginning to mount. It looked highly likely that the Tigers would strike. Goode strangely attempted the drop goal from about 30 metres out when he had men outside him. It sailed wide of the mark but you sensed there was more to come.
It wasn’t long before that man Vesty struck again, running the ball from his own 22 after taking the inside feed from Corry. A neat little interchange of play saw Goode feed a deft inside pass to Hipkiss who took the crash ball and powered under the Sale posts. It was just rewards and had been coming for some time. Goode converted taking the score to 17 – 3.
Sale Sharks are not a team who’ll roll over and give up, even though it was looking like an uphill struggle. The next score was always going to be crucial. For the first time in the match Sale managed to get up a head of steam and set up camp in the Tigers 22. A combination of forward power and some nifty handling from Sale backs at last created a period of sustained pressure. A cleverly worked move began by Big Mac saw the ball pass to Martens. His pass went slightly behind Charlie but somehow he managed to control it and keep the momentum going. The ball was nipped to Lamont, then on to Laharrague and finally fed to McAlister who saw the gap and dabbed the ball down in the corner. Charlie couldn’t convert from the oblique angle, though many were actually surprised that he opted to take it anyway - McAlister’s kicking had looked solid up until then.
Both sides decided to ring the changes after that. Schofield, Wigglesworth and James Jones replaced Lobbe, Bonner Evans and Martens, Chuter came on for Kayser and Croft replaced the irrepressible Crane. It made the radio commentator deliriously happy when clean white-shirted players arrived, replacing the uniform dirty grey of the rest of the team. He could actually refer to them by number and name when play resumed, rather than just saying ‘white passes to white, but oh, that’s knocked on by another man in white’.
Normal service resumed and Leicester began to dominate through a combination of clever tactical kicking and raw forward power. It looked like the end of the road for the Sharks when Wiggy missed the tackle on Varndell, allowing him to ground the ball in the corner. Chuter, Hamilton, Smith and Hipkiss had all been involved in the move, but the final pass from Vesty was adjudged to have been forward. Much to the relief of the Sharks, play was called back for a Sale scrum 15 metres out.
Sale’s scrum was struggling though under the pressure exerted by the Tigers and had already lost a couple against the head. Bruno replaced Lawson and gave that extra bit of grunt up front that was badly needed. Maggie also packed down at 8 rather than on the blindside. The changes seemed to make a difference and the scrum thereafter looked more solid.
Goode extended Leicester’s lead with a penalty after Lund was penalised by Chris White for a hand in at the ruck. The kick hit the upright but had sufficient momentum to still drop over. You sensed it was going to be Leicester’s day. Still, 20 – 8 and there was still a hope. Sale had been in situations like this before and come out of it ok. Mayor came on for Charlie with the orders, ‘go for it – attack’ and McAlister switched to stand off.
No doubt some will be critical of what happened next, but this was effectively a cup tie. If you’re behind you have to go for it and chase the game. It happened last year in Paris when Dominici intercepted Wiggy’s attempted pass and killed off the game and it will no doubt happen again. With Sale camped in the Leicester 22, and the forwards setting up the perfect platform for an attack, McAlister tried a cheeky little chip over the top of the Leicester defence that Lamont, Cueto and Laharrague could all have feasibly dropped on. Big Mac was possibly a little too flat to attempt it, as the charging Goode was able to steal the ball and race away, popping the ball to Varndell who this time made no mistakes. Had it come off, the scores would’ve been 20-15 and the game would definitely have been on, as it was, it didn’t and it was good night Vienna. Goode converted and that simply sealed matters.
A couple of minutes later McAlister was to be the villain of the piece again as he took a quick throw in preference to a line out and his flat pass to Cueto was intercepted by Croft who crossed in the corner. Goode couldn’t convert from the touchline, but it didn’t really matter. The game finished Leicester 32 Sale 8.
Looking at that score line, you would assume that Sale were comprehensively outplayed. No doubt they were second best on the night and Leicester were without question the worthy winners, but Sale didn’t play badly. Had Sale not had to chase the game in the last 5 minutes, the margin of defeat would no doubt have been a lot smaller. Anyway, it’s done and dusted now. Sale lose away from home again: that’s got a familiar ring to it, hasn’t it? Don’t blame Big Mac. I’d have done the same. Give him time to settle and judge him then. I’m sure the Tigers won’t be making snap decisions about Aaron Mauger after a couple of performances. Good rugby players, like good wine, get better with time, and I’m sure we’ll all see a different game at Edgeley Park
Joe Williams.
Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Nov 07 Worcester v Sale
Worcester Warriors v Sale Sharks
All Black and Blue too!
Love him or loathe him, there’s no doubting that Tony Spreadbury has become something of an institution in rugby circles. Some see him as the smiling assassin: a man capable of ruffling everybody’s feathers and single-handedly changing the course of a game with one rash and impulsive decision. Others would rather view him as an entertaining and amusing, motor-mouthed maverick, whose officiating, whilst generally satisfactory, can be a tad over-fussy.
Personally I tend to nail my colours to the latter mast, though that wasn’t how I felt in the “Crummie” Stand last year after he awarded the penalty try to Leicester. The love-fest was definitely teetering on the thinnest of ice at that point. The thing is, whatever your view of him, you can put money on the fact that he will do something during the course of every game that will either make your blood boil, or will leave you scratching your head thinking, what the hell’s he done that for?
The harsh yellowing-carding of Sheridan could well have cost Sale a deserved victory against Worcester on Friday. I know home support can have an effect on even the most knarled and match-hardened referee, but even I was astonished at the sin-binning. How can anyone pull out of legitimate tackle attempt when already in mid flight? The simple answer is you can’t, especially if you’re a 19 stone forward. A penalty it may have been, but a carding offence? You jest, Sir. Fortunately for the travelling fans who braved the clear skies and arctic temperatures, the script was already written: Mr McAlister’s Sharks fairytale debut was always destined to begin victoriously.
We’ve had a tendency this season to come out of the starting blocks slowly and tentatively: you only have to think about Bath, Gloucester and Cardiff to see that. With such a dreadful record on the road, Sale desperately needed to hit the ground running and put the skids under the Warriors’ fragile confidence. They did, and Lee Thomas and Luke McAlister immediately showed the shivering Sale contingent that happy days could be just around the corner.
Wigglesworth broke from deep in his own 22 and fed the ball to Thomas who passed to McAlister. He powered up the field showing the class that has made him such an All Black favourite. Lesser players might’ve gone to ground, but not Big Mac – he took the hit, stood up in the tackle and still managed to offload to the marauding Thomas who steamrollered towards the Worcester 22, shrugging off a tackle from Sanderson and handing off Tucker, before shifting the ball out to Rory Lamont. The Scottish winger scampered away from the despairing lunges of Drahm and Powell to dot the ball down for the first try with barely 4 minutes on the clock. Charlie nailed the conversion as one would expect.
The Warriors then did what the Warriors tend to do best and retained the ball, working through the phases, probing and looking for the openings to exploit, but rarely threatening for want of a cutting edge. Sale have been able to deal with this type of ploy all season: their defence has held up well particularly when pressed back on their own 5 metre line. The only time they’ve ever appeared to be vulnerable is when confronting runners who come from deep at pace. Rasmussen and Tucker who can offer this type of threat were both subdued and offered little in the way of a direct threat in the opening stages.
The best that the petulant Tucker could offer was a little bit of handbags with Cueto after being pinged for holding on and conceding the penalty. Charlie cleared long to touch and the ever-reliable Cox took clean, athletic ball from the resulting lineout. Wiggy once more went for the half break off the back of the maul but was snagged by Sanderson. Pat immediately went off his feet, killing the ball, and was penalised by Spredders. Charlie put the penalty away without hesitation.
The Sharks were dominant at this point, mixing up play and interchanging positions. Big Mac, Charlie and Thomas swapped and changed positions constantly and caused confusion in the Worcester ranks. Not to be outdone, Cueto and Lamont doubled up on the right wing much to Garvey’s dismay. The tactic worked accordingly and Worcester’s midfield was pulled out of position, leaving space for another half break this time by Foden. He fed the ball to the rampaging Chabal, playing in the uncustomary role of blindside, even though packing down at 8. Seabass isn’t just a power machine: he has good hands too, and proved this with a deft little offload out of the tackle to Thomas.
Bomber charged 20 metres up the park brushing off both Sanderson and Murphy before going to ground and presenting the ball for Wiggy. The ball was fed to Charlie and you could see what was about to happen. Cueto began his run, keeping tight on his wing, knowing instinctively that Charlie would spot him. The kick was inch perfect and Cueto didn’t even have to break his stride as he slid over in the corner inspite of the attentions of Delport. Although Hodgson’s conversion kick was accurate, it could only manage to brush the outside of the posts. Maybe they were shivering in sympathy with the rest of the crowd in the bitter temperatures. I bet Luke McAlister never had it that cold in Auckland.
With only 18 minutes played and at 15 nil to the good, Sale did what Sale are good at: they took their eye off the ball. They continued to try and use their obvious advantages whenever they could, but forgot that to do that you have to win the ball first. We finished up second best at the rucks and allowed Worcester to take the initiative back. The Warriors played a much narrower game and set out to frustrate and spoil, turning over and stealing ball whenever they could and getting the likes of Sanderson and Talei to target Hodgson’s 10 channel. The tactics worked and for the last 15 minutes of the first half the Sharks were on the back foot.
Worcester though couldn’t turn territorial advantage into points against the resolute and dogged Sharks defence. Their game-plan was very conservative and one-dimensional, relying heavily on the use of the driving maul. Even when they were given penalties, Drahm still opted to kick to the corners hoping to win lineout ball with the help of their giant 8 foot 10 inch lock Craig Gillies.
Had they been prepared to be a little more adventurous they could well have made Sale pay. A charge from Talei showed what they could be capable of if they put their minds to it. Fortunately he was stopped in his tracks by McAlister with a last ditch tackle that prevented what looked like a nailed-on try. Because of this lack of ambition, all that Worcester could muster by halftime was 3 points, courtesy of a Drahm penalty.
The Warriors started the second half in much the same way as they’d ended the first – harrying and pressurising at every opportunity. Powell was a real nuisance at the set piece, sniping and harassing Wiggy and stealing ball on a couple of occasions. New All Black Greg Rawlinson also put himself about caused one or two problems that needn’t have occurred.
The Sharks continued with pretty much the same game plan and consequently turned over too much ball. You can’t rely on just the one body to clear our rucks: Worcester had the right idea and got numbers in, forcing Sale to back-pedal for much of the first ten minutes. You can have the finest set of backs in the world, but if you don’t have the ball there’s not much they can do, is there? What was plain for all to see is that you will always struggle at this level if you can’t call on a specialised openside to forage and cover. We definitely missed Magnus and Corcho. Worcester had Sanderson and it made all the difference.
The only spark of light in the opening period was that when Sale did start to move the ball wide at pace, they were able to open up Worcester with relative ease. Schofield nearly got over on the flank after some lovely flat and speedy passing from Charlie and Big Mac. He managed to evade and outpace Delport but was tagged by Pennell before he could ground. Try as we might, that third try was appearing elusive.
Step up to the plate Ben Foden. He latched on to a beauty of a pass from Charlie, checking back slightly and then accelerating off his other foot to outfox Tucker. He raced away to the flank, arcing around the back of Delport, and somehow managed to shift his centre of gravity to the other foot again before dancing back from the touchline and side-stepping the despairing Powell.
Don’t you just love those dancing feet? Jason who? Ok- fair enough, a little excessive I grant you, but that try was a cracker, conjured out of nothing really, and just demonstrated why he’s been getting such rave reviews. Unfortunately Charlie couldn’t convert. His place kicking radar didn’t seem to be functioning as well as usual.
With a deficit of 17 points you would’ve thought that Worcester might have taken the hint and called it a day, but no, not when you have players cast in the mould of Pat Sanderson. That man doesn’t know what a lost cause is. When you’re at the wrong end of the table, you have to scrap for everything and even losing bonus points count.
Delport picked up a loose ball just inside his own half and started a jinking run that turned into a threat. Andrew Sheridan stopped him - dead. Even though Ted led with his arms, Spredders saw only a shoulder and had no hesitation in sending him to the bin for 10 minutes. The crowd were delighted – I was perplexed. Not quite as perplexed as Ted though: his face said it all. Rasmussen’s tackle some minutes later was just as bad, if not worse. He never even pretended to lead with his arms, yet he was only penalised. Where’s the consistency in that?
You got the sense that something was about to happen. The atmosphere on the field had been as icy as the temperature since the first whistle. Latui and Bruno had been sniping at each other as had Woods, Tucker and Cueto. From the lineout, Worcester drove the weakened Sale pack backwards deep into their 10 metre area before Sanderson peeled off the back of the maul to dab down mid way between the posts and the corner flag. Drahm snatched up the ball for the conversion and then World War 3 erupted.
I couldn’t tell you who did what precisely to whom, but Bruno and Latui were at each other’s throats and then Bruno appeared to take a swipe at his opposite number. Woods charged back 10 metres or so and lamped Bruno with a forearm and Sale’s hooker hit the floor. All unnecessary of course, but sometimes passion gets the better of you. The thing is if you live by the sword, you have to die by it too. Bruno knew if you raise your hands you’ll probably get your marching orders. Which offence was worse, Bruno’s or Woods’? Who’s to say, but at least Bruno’s was an instantaneous reaction, not premeditated. To tag someone from behind isn’t gentlemanly if you ask me. At least Coxy retaliated from the front when he piled into Rawlinson.
Drahm converted and the two depleted teams commenced battle once more, but without the fists this time. The best form of defence when you’re under pressure is attack and that’s precisely what the Sharks did. They took the game to Worcester and were rewarded with a penalty when Feaunati was pinged for side entry at a ruck near halfway. Charlie didn’t look like he was in the mood to take it, so Captain White passed the mantle onto Sale new boy McAlister. He placed the ball and barely had time to set himself, when he ambled up and nailed a beauty of a kick straight between the sticks. It looked effortless, and to someone of his quality, it probably was.
Briggs and Roberts replaced Bonner Evans and Tait and minutes later the Warriors were awarded another penalty for a ruck infringement directly in front of their posts on the 22 metre line. A 7-man Sale scrum packed down with new recruit, Mr Versatile, Lee Thomas joining Jason White in the back row. Somehow they managed to wheel the scrum through 90 degrees. The look on the faces of Sale’s forwards said it all and they whooped and cheered at their achievement. Big Mac despatched the kick with his customary aplomb.
Martens and Mayor replaced Wiggy and my man of the match, Thomas, and McAlister moved to inside centre. Sanderson and his Worcester team mates were not done though: they were determined to try and get the losing bonus point. In spite of the return of Sheridan, the Warriors were able to use exactly the same play and suck Sale forwards into the rolling maul, allowing Sanderson the time and space to peel off the back and ground the ball before Big Mac could get to him. Drahm couldn’t covert, so the score remained at 23 15.
Sale were given another penalty when Rasmussen tried to take Foden’s head off his shoulders. Had he not been so slippery and elusive, he could well have been seriously damaged. Yellow card? You tell me? McAlister nailed the kick to take the lead to 11 points.
With just under 5 minutes to go, Sale were desperate to crack on and secure not just the win, which was pretty much a formality by then, but also the winning try-bonus point. Bonner Evans came back on replacing Briggs and Bruno returned too, fresh from his spell on Spredder’s naughty chair. If you can’t beat them, join them seemed to be the ethos of the last passages of play: Worcester had used forward power to unlock Sale’s defence, so the Sharks would do likewise.
Following a grinding passage of play, Sale managed to force a lineout on Worcester’s 5 metre line. Coxy took the ball well, but possession was ceded in the ensuing ruck. For some bizarre reason the Warriors decided to run the ball across their own in-goal area rather than kick the ball into Gloucester. The pill eventually finished up with Mr Butterfingers, Marcel Garvey. He did manage to make it stick, but was bundled into touch by Lamont.
From the kick Sale mauled their way in field and sucked in Worcester’s tiring defence. Schofield dropped to the back of the maul and peeled off and was pushed over by the posts by Bruno. Fourth try – first away win for a year: no wonder the boys were deliriously happy. It mattered not that McAlister couldn’t convert the final score when he was put off by a number of charging Worcester players. What mattered was the victory and the securing of that elusive away win.
It was a good night all round. All the media attention was understandably focused on Big Mac, as you’d expect. He gave tantalising glimpses of what’s to come and showed what class he really has in his boots and hands. Coxy did as Coxy always does and gave his all. The Great White is back to his best: commanding and powerful and Ben Foden produced a mesmerising display at full back: he gets better and better each game.
For me though, the star of the show was Lee Thomas. His performance had everything: versatility, power, skill and the will to win. What more could you ask for from a player? Philippe St Andre said if you play well enough, then you will keep your shirt, regardless of reputation. Lee Thomas is a testament to the fact that the Frenchman meant what he said. The Thomas/McAlister combination could well be the undoing of many a defence in the months to come.
All Black and Blue too!
Love him or loathe him, there’s no doubting that Tony Spreadbury has become something of an institution in rugby circles. Some see him as the smiling assassin: a man capable of ruffling everybody’s feathers and single-handedly changing the course of a game with one rash and impulsive decision. Others would rather view him as an entertaining and amusing, motor-mouthed maverick, whose officiating, whilst generally satisfactory, can be a tad over-fussy.
Personally I tend to nail my colours to the latter mast, though that wasn’t how I felt in the “Crummie” Stand last year after he awarded the penalty try to Leicester. The love-fest was definitely teetering on the thinnest of ice at that point. The thing is, whatever your view of him, you can put money on the fact that he will do something during the course of every game that will either make your blood boil, or will leave you scratching your head thinking, what the hell’s he done that for?
The harsh yellowing-carding of Sheridan could well have cost Sale a deserved victory against Worcester on Friday. I know home support can have an effect on even the most knarled and match-hardened referee, but even I was astonished at the sin-binning. How can anyone pull out of legitimate tackle attempt when already in mid flight? The simple answer is you can’t, especially if you’re a 19 stone forward. A penalty it may have been, but a carding offence? You jest, Sir. Fortunately for the travelling fans who braved the clear skies and arctic temperatures, the script was already written: Mr McAlister’s Sharks fairytale debut was always destined to begin victoriously.
We’ve had a tendency this season to come out of the starting blocks slowly and tentatively: you only have to think about Bath, Gloucester and Cardiff to see that. With such a dreadful record on the road, Sale desperately needed to hit the ground running and put the skids under the Warriors’ fragile confidence. They did, and Lee Thomas and Luke McAlister immediately showed the shivering Sale contingent that happy days could be just around the corner.
Wigglesworth broke from deep in his own 22 and fed the ball to Thomas who passed to McAlister. He powered up the field showing the class that has made him such an All Black favourite. Lesser players might’ve gone to ground, but not Big Mac – he took the hit, stood up in the tackle and still managed to offload to the marauding Thomas who steamrollered towards the Worcester 22, shrugging off a tackle from Sanderson and handing off Tucker, before shifting the ball out to Rory Lamont. The Scottish winger scampered away from the despairing lunges of Drahm and Powell to dot the ball down for the first try with barely 4 minutes on the clock. Charlie nailed the conversion as one would expect.
The Warriors then did what the Warriors tend to do best and retained the ball, working through the phases, probing and looking for the openings to exploit, but rarely threatening for want of a cutting edge. Sale have been able to deal with this type of ploy all season: their defence has held up well particularly when pressed back on their own 5 metre line. The only time they’ve ever appeared to be vulnerable is when confronting runners who come from deep at pace. Rasmussen and Tucker who can offer this type of threat were both subdued and offered little in the way of a direct threat in the opening stages.
The best that the petulant Tucker could offer was a little bit of handbags with Cueto after being pinged for holding on and conceding the penalty. Charlie cleared long to touch and the ever-reliable Cox took clean, athletic ball from the resulting lineout. Wiggy once more went for the half break off the back of the maul but was snagged by Sanderson. Pat immediately went off his feet, killing the ball, and was penalised by Spredders. Charlie put the penalty away without hesitation.
The Sharks were dominant at this point, mixing up play and interchanging positions. Big Mac, Charlie and Thomas swapped and changed positions constantly and caused confusion in the Worcester ranks. Not to be outdone, Cueto and Lamont doubled up on the right wing much to Garvey’s dismay. The tactic worked accordingly and Worcester’s midfield was pulled out of position, leaving space for another half break this time by Foden. He fed the ball to the rampaging Chabal, playing in the uncustomary role of blindside, even though packing down at 8. Seabass isn’t just a power machine: he has good hands too, and proved this with a deft little offload out of the tackle to Thomas.
Bomber charged 20 metres up the park brushing off both Sanderson and Murphy before going to ground and presenting the ball for Wiggy. The ball was fed to Charlie and you could see what was about to happen. Cueto began his run, keeping tight on his wing, knowing instinctively that Charlie would spot him. The kick was inch perfect and Cueto didn’t even have to break his stride as he slid over in the corner inspite of the attentions of Delport. Although Hodgson’s conversion kick was accurate, it could only manage to brush the outside of the posts. Maybe they were shivering in sympathy with the rest of the crowd in the bitter temperatures. I bet Luke McAlister never had it that cold in Auckland.
With only 18 minutes played and at 15 nil to the good, Sale did what Sale are good at: they took their eye off the ball. They continued to try and use their obvious advantages whenever they could, but forgot that to do that you have to win the ball first. We finished up second best at the rucks and allowed Worcester to take the initiative back. The Warriors played a much narrower game and set out to frustrate and spoil, turning over and stealing ball whenever they could and getting the likes of Sanderson and Talei to target Hodgson’s 10 channel. The tactics worked and for the last 15 minutes of the first half the Sharks were on the back foot.
Worcester though couldn’t turn territorial advantage into points against the resolute and dogged Sharks defence. Their game-plan was very conservative and one-dimensional, relying heavily on the use of the driving maul. Even when they were given penalties, Drahm still opted to kick to the corners hoping to win lineout ball with the help of their giant 8 foot 10 inch lock Craig Gillies.
Had they been prepared to be a little more adventurous they could well have made Sale pay. A charge from Talei showed what they could be capable of if they put their minds to it. Fortunately he was stopped in his tracks by McAlister with a last ditch tackle that prevented what looked like a nailed-on try. Because of this lack of ambition, all that Worcester could muster by halftime was 3 points, courtesy of a Drahm penalty.
The Warriors started the second half in much the same way as they’d ended the first – harrying and pressurising at every opportunity. Powell was a real nuisance at the set piece, sniping and harassing Wiggy and stealing ball on a couple of occasions. New All Black Greg Rawlinson also put himself about caused one or two problems that needn’t have occurred.
The Sharks continued with pretty much the same game plan and consequently turned over too much ball. You can’t rely on just the one body to clear our rucks: Worcester had the right idea and got numbers in, forcing Sale to back-pedal for much of the first ten minutes. You can have the finest set of backs in the world, but if you don’t have the ball there’s not much they can do, is there? What was plain for all to see is that you will always struggle at this level if you can’t call on a specialised openside to forage and cover. We definitely missed Magnus and Corcho. Worcester had Sanderson and it made all the difference.
The only spark of light in the opening period was that when Sale did start to move the ball wide at pace, they were able to open up Worcester with relative ease. Schofield nearly got over on the flank after some lovely flat and speedy passing from Charlie and Big Mac. He managed to evade and outpace Delport but was tagged by Pennell before he could ground. Try as we might, that third try was appearing elusive.
Step up to the plate Ben Foden. He latched on to a beauty of a pass from Charlie, checking back slightly and then accelerating off his other foot to outfox Tucker. He raced away to the flank, arcing around the back of Delport, and somehow managed to shift his centre of gravity to the other foot again before dancing back from the touchline and side-stepping the despairing Powell.
Don’t you just love those dancing feet? Jason who? Ok- fair enough, a little excessive I grant you, but that try was a cracker, conjured out of nothing really, and just demonstrated why he’s been getting such rave reviews. Unfortunately Charlie couldn’t convert. His place kicking radar didn’t seem to be functioning as well as usual.
With a deficit of 17 points you would’ve thought that Worcester might have taken the hint and called it a day, but no, not when you have players cast in the mould of Pat Sanderson. That man doesn’t know what a lost cause is. When you’re at the wrong end of the table, you have to scrap for everything and even losing bonus points count.
Delport picked up a loose ball just inside his own half and started a jinking run that turned into a threat. Andrew Sheridan stopped him - dead. Even though Ted led with his arms, Spredders saw only a shoulder and had no hesitation in sending him to the bin for 10 minutes. The crowd were delighted – I was perplexed. Not quite as perplexed as Ted though: his face said it all. Rasmussen’s tackle some minutes later was just as bad, if not worse. He never even pretended to lead with his arms, yet he was only penalised. Where’s the consistency in that?
You got the sense that something was about to happen. The atmosphere on the field had been as icy as the temperature since the first whistle. Latui and Bruno had been sniping at each other as had Woods, Tucker and Cueto. From the lineout, Worcester drove the weakened Sale pack backwards deep into their 10 metre area before Sanderson peeled off the back of the maul to dab down mid way between the posts and the corner flag. Drahm snatched up the ball for the conversion and then World War 3 erupted.
I couldn’t tell you who did what precisely to whom, but Bruno and Latui were at each other’s throats and then Bruno appeared to take a swipe at his opposite number. Woods charged back 10 metres or so and lamped Bruno with a forearm and Sale’s hooker hit the floor. All unnecessary of course, but sometimes passion gets the better of you. The thing is if you live by the sword, you have to die by it too. Bruno knew if you raise your hands you’ll probably get your marching orders. Which offence was worse, Bruno’s or Woods’? Who’s to say, but at least Bruno’s was an instantaneous reaction, not premeditated. To tag someone from behind isn’t gentlemanly if you ask me. At least Coxy retaliated from the front when he piled into Rawlinson.
Drahm converted and the two depleted teams commenced battle once more, but without the fists this time. The best form of defence when you’re under pressure is attack and that’s precisely what the Sharks did. They took the game to Worcester and were rewarded with a penalty when Feaunati was pinged for side entry at a ruck near halfway. Charlie didn’t look like he was in the mood to take it, so Captain White passed the mantle onto Sale new boy McAlister. He placed the ball and barely had time to set himself, when he ambled up and nailed a beauty of a kick straight between the sticks. It looked effortless, and to someone of his quality, it probably was.
Briggs and Roberts replaced Bonner Evans and Tait and minutes later the Warriors were awarded another penalty for a ruck infringement directly in front of their posts on the 22 metre line. A 7-man Sale scrum packed down with new recruit, Mr Versatile, Lee Thomas joining Jason White in the back row. Somehow they managed to wheel the scrum through 90 degrees. The look on the faces of Sale’s forwards said it all and they whooped and cheered at their achievement. Big Mac despatched the kick with his customary aplomb.
Martens and Mayor replaced Wiggy and my man of the match, Thomas, and McAlister moved to inside centre. Sanderson and his Worcester team mates were not done though: they were determined to try and get the losing bonus point. In spite of the return of Sheridan, the Warriors were able to use exactly the same play and suck Sale forwards into the rolling maul, allowing Sanderson the time and space to peel off the back and ground the ball before Big Mac could get to him. Drahm couldn’t covert, so the score remained at 23 15.
Sale were given another penalty when Rasmussen tried to take Foden’s head off his shoulders. Had he not been so slippery and elusive, he could well have been seriously damaged. Yellow card? You tell me? McAlister nailed the kick to take the lead to 11 points.
With just under 5 minutes to go, Sale were desperate to crack on and secure not just the win, which was pretty much a formality by then, but also the winning try-bonus point. Bonner Evans came back on replacing Briggs and Bruno returned too, fresh from his spell on Spredder’s naughty chair. If you can’t beat them, join them seemed to be the ethos of the last passages of play: Worcester had used forward power to unlock Sale’s defence, so the Sharks would do likewise.
Following a grinding passage of play, Sale managed to force a lineout on Worcester’s 5 metre line. Coxy took the ball well, but possession was ceded in the ensuing ruck. For some bizarre reason the Warriors decided to run the ball across their own in-goal area rather than kick the ball into Gloucester. The pill eventually finished up with Mr Butterfingers, Marcel Garvey. He did manage to make it stick, but was bundled into touch by Lamont.
From the kick Sale mauled their way in field and sucked in Worcester’s tiring defence. Schofield dropped to the back of the maul and peeled off and was pushed over by the posts by Bruno. Fourth try – first away win for a year: no wonder the boys were deliriously happy. It mattered not that McAlister couldn’t convert the final score when he was put off by a number of charging Worcester players. What mattered was the victory and the securing of that elusive away win.
It was a good night all round. All the media attention was understandably focused on Big Mac, as you’d expect. He gave tantalising glimpses of what’s to come and showed what class he really has in his boots and hands. Coxy did as Coxy always does and gave his all. The Great White is back to his best: commanding and powerful and Ben Foden produced a mesmerising display at full back: he gets better and better each game.
For me though, the star of the show was Lee Thomas. His performance had everything: versatility, power, skill and the will to win. What more could you ask for from a player? Philippe St Andre said if you play well enough, then you will keep your shirt, regardless of reputation. Lee Thomas is a testament to the fact that the Frenchman meant what he said. The Thomas/McAlister combination could well be the undoing of many a defence in the months to come.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Sep 07 Sale v Bristol
Sale Sharks v Bristol
The Boys Are Back In Town
Well, at long last Premiership rugby returns to Edgeley Park. It’s been the longest summer I can ever remember, if in fact we ever had one, and I can honestly say I think I’d sooner give up the moonshine than go as long again without my rugby.
Last week at Kingston Park Sale failed to turn up and were given a mauling by the Falcons and treated to a master-class in stand off play by young Toby Flood. The intention may well have been to hit the ground running, but Sale merely hit the ground. We looked flat, tired, devoid of ideas and dispirited. Many, and I count myself amongst them, feared that that defeat would prove to be a psychological stumbling block which would be difficult to surmount. Would the team be able to lift itself after such a comprehensive defeat and come out fighting? Well, happily I can report that my fears were unfounded: we won the Bristol game and more importantly I think we won with relative ease. Had our place kicking been up to its usual standard we would’ve won comfortably.
There was more of a sense of urgency to our play this week. We hit rucks with power and pace and cleared them out far more effectively than last week. Our line out functioned well with Sean Cox putting in another commanding display and we were able to disrupt their set piece and turn the ball over. Our back line played with much more fluidity than it has for some time, helped by quick and accurate ball from Lilo and some superb kicking out of hand by Charlie. Overall we actually looked like a team that meant business and had belief in its own abilities.
I know many would say that it wasn’t a gilt-edged performance and that there was a general lack of penetration from both sides. Yes I grant you it wasn’t the type of game that had you perching on the edge of your seat drooling over the quality of the rugby. The weather pretty much put paid to that. We played the conditions as effectively as we could and Charlie Hodgson pulled all the strings nullifying Bristol’s normally effective rush defence with astute kicking. Sure it would’ve been nice to see some variation in tactics rather than relying solely on the use of the up and under, but it was effective. We were undone last week by an inability to deal with the lofted ball. At least we seem to have learned some lessons.
There were positive and promising signs yesterday that need to be built upon. Sale managed to keep Bristol on the back foot for most of the match. We kept Dan Ward Smith quiet which is an achievement in itself. He was well marshalled throughout the game by Magnus Lund and Chris Jones, though I’m not sure if Maggie knows what day it is now after that massive hit he put in on the muscular Bristol number 8. Lee Robinson, Bristol’s dangerous winger, was hardly given a sniff of the ball and on the few occasions where he was able to run the ball back at Sale he was summarily dealt with by the resurgent Steve Hanley who’s beginning to look more like the player of old.
Ben Foden seems to be settling in to his unaccustomed role at full back. He always poses a threat because of his speed and agility and he took every opportunity to run the ball back at the opposition. His touch down during the second quarter of the game was the highlight of the match, coming after a lovely pass from Charlie and a neat flick on from Lilo – maybe Jos Baxendell’s influence is already starting to produce results?
Sean Cox continues to impress with every game he plays. He has the big match temperament and never takes a backward step. He stole more line out ball during the game than I think we managed for most of last season. Lilo Martens brings a physicality to our game and offers something different at number 9. He has the ability to deliver quick and accurate ball yet he can also tackle and ruck like a forward. Lee Thomas had, I believe, his best game in a Sale shirt. He was all over the field yesterday, chasing down the bombs that Charlie sent deep down in to the Bristol twenty two and putting in big tackles on our own five metre line.
On the other hand there were also one or two problems that need to be ironed out. Our scrum was on the back foot for most of the match. We also continue to give away too many penalties. It may not have cost us yesterday but in the coming weeks against the likes of Gloucester, Wasps and Sarries, soft and unnecessary penalties could well be the difference between winning and losing.
We came away with a deserved victory yesterday. The tactics may well have not been to everyone’s taste but you can’t please all the people all of the time. Obviously it would’ve been nice to get the bonus point and watch a thrilling and exciting spectacle, but I’ll gladly settle for a win and winning ugly at this stage. After all we need to win probably four out of six games whilst our internationals are away if we’re to be in with any chance of competing for honours at the end of the season.
Joe Williams
The Boys Are Back In Town
Well, at long last Premiership rugby returns to Edgeley Park. It’s been the longest summer I can ever remember, if in fact we ever had one, and I can honestly say I think I’d sooner give up the moonshine than go as long again without my rugby.
Last week at Kingston Park Sale failed to turn up and were given a mauling by the Falcons and treated to a master-class in stand off play by young Toby Flood. The intention may well have been to hit the ground running, but Sale merely hit the ground. We looked flat, tired, devoid of ideas and dispirited. Many, and I count myself amongst them, feared that that defeat would prove to be a psychological stumbling block which would be difficult to surmount. Would the team be able to lift itself after such a comprehensive defeat and come out fighting? Well, happily I can report that my fears were unfounded: we won the Bristol game and more importantly I think we won with relative ease. Had our place kicking been up to its usual standard we would’ve won comfortably.
There was more of a sense of urgency to our play this week. We hit rucks with power and pace and cleared them out far more effectively than last week. Our line out functioned well with Sean Cox putting in another commanding display and we were able to disrupt their set piece and turn the ball over. Our back line played with much more fluidity than it has for some time, helped by quick and accurate ball from Lilo and some superb kicking out of hand by Charlie. Overall we actually looked like a team that meant business and had belief in its own abilities.
I know many would say that it wasn’t a gilt-edged performance and that there was a general lack of penetration from both sides. Yes I grant you it wasn’t the type of game that had you perching on the edge of your seat drooling over the quality of the rugby. The weather pretty much put paid to that. We played the conditions as effectively as we could and Charlie Hodgson pulled all the strings nullifying Bristol’s normally effective rush defence with astute kicking. Sure it would’ve been nice to see some variation in tactics rather than relying solely on the use of the up and under, but it was effective. We were undone last week by an inability to deal with the lofted ball. At least we seem to have learned some lessons.
There were positive and promising signs yesterday that need to be built upon. Sale managed to keep Bristol on the back foot for most of the match. We kept Dan Ward Smith quiet which is an achievement in itself. He was well marshalled throughout the game by Magnus Lund and Chris Jones, though I’m not sure if Maggie knows what day it is now after that massive hit he put in on the muscular Bristol number 8. Lee Robinson, Bristol’s dangerous winger, was hardly given a sniff of the ball and on the few occasions where he was able to run the ball back at Sale he was summarily dealt with by the resurgent Steve Hanley who’s beginning to look more like the player of old.
Ben Foden seems to be settling in to his unaccustomed role at full back. He always poses a threat because of his speed and agility and he took every opportunity to run the ball back at the opposition. His touch down during the second quarter of the game was the highlight of the match, coming after a lovely pass from Charlie and a neat flick on from Lilo – maybe Jos Baxendell’s influence is already starting to produce results?
Sean Cox continues to impress with every game he plays. He has the big match temperament and never takes a backward step. He stole more line out ball during the game than I think we managed for most of last season. Lilo Martens brings a physicality to our game and offers something different at number 9. He has the ability to deliver quick and accurate ball yet he can also tackle and ruck like a forward. Lee Thomas had, I believe, his best game in a Sale shirt. He was all over the field yesterday, chasing down the bombs that Charlie sent deep down in to the Bristol twenty two and putting in big tackles on our own five metre line.
On the other hand there were also one or two problems that need to be ironed out. Our scrum was on the back foot for most of the match. We also continue to give away too many penalties. It may not have cost us yesterday but in the coming weeks against the likes of Gloucester, Wasps and Sarries, soft and unnecessary penalties could well be the difference between winning and losing.
We came away with a deserved victory yesterday. The tactics may well have not been to everyone’s taste but you can’t please all the people all of the time. Obviously it would’ve been nice to get the bonus point and watch a thrilling and exciting spectacle, but I’ll gladly settle for a win and winning ugly at this stage. After all we need to win probably four out of six games whilst our internationals are away if we’re to be in with any chance of competing for honours at the end of the season.
Joe Williams
Sep 07 Bath v Sale
Bath v Sale Sharks
Charlie’s still my darling
There’ll no doubt be many who are ready to point fingers at the esteemed fly half following Saturday’s last-gasp defeat by Bath at the Recreation Ground. From where I was sitting that would be a completely unreasonable and unjustifiable conclusion to jump to. Yes Charlie Hodgson did scuff the first drop goal attempt to snatch an unexpected Sale victory in the dying seconds and yes, his second attempt shortly after did sail wide of the posts, but any semblance of blame does not lie on his shoulders.
He was the catalyst from which every creative Sharks’ spark emanated. He controlled the game with some sublime and astute kicking out of hand and some solid place kicking. He was able, at last, to get our backline moving. In short, he was the reason we were still in with a shout in the end. So blame him if you like, but you’d be wrong.
Our ‘prince’ may never be a king in the eyes of the old-school, conservative establishment at the RFU, but as far as I’m concerned he was crowned many, many moons ago. We missed him dreadfully last season thanks to England and I for one am so grateful to have him back pulling the strings again. Without him yesterday we wouldn’t have had a hope of getting any sort of result, let alone a losing bonus point.
The pattern was set in the first ten minutes. We were slow off the block, missing too many tackles, losing too many set pieces and gifting opportunities to a Bath side who, let’s face it haven’t lost at the Rec for almost a year. You don’t present opportunities like that to a dominant pack and the likes of Danny Grewcock and just expect to win at a canter in the end. Had Shaun Berne put away both conversions and a penalty we would’ve been 17 nil down with under 15 minutes on the clock. Bath were odds-on for a home win anyway: please lads, don’t make the job any easier by giving them a head start as well.
Fortunately this initial onslaught didn’t or couldn’t last. Maybe the pace was too much for the aged legs of Grewcock and his other forwards or maybe the re-organisation of the Bath backline following the departure of their giant wing, Matt Banahan, just proved too much of a disruption. What’s undeniable is that had Bath been able to keep this tempo going, there’s no doubting that we would’ve been dead and buried by half time. When the tempo slowed we finally began to put some of our own moves together. We started to pressurize the stuttering Bath backline and looked more like the team of old.
Following a period of sustained Sale pressure at the set piece and one or two line out steals by Sean Cox, we eventually managed to get some points on the board. A relatively straightforward Hodgson penalty was followed by a trademark drop-goal: things at last were starting to look a little brighter. Just before the half hour mark we started to throw the ball around a little more and create space that just hadn’t been available earlier on.
Bath are well organised team and very difficult to break down, as Leicester Tigers discovered last week. This season they’ve also added flair and penetration to their repertoire and believe in running the ball from deep. The Sharks were able to capitalise on this and stretch the Bath defence, creating space in the channels and on the flanks. Another good scrum and quick thinking and soft hands from Hodgson allowed Chris Mayor to straighten his line and open up space outside for Ripol to power in for the try in the corner. But for a pointless and unnecessary penalty which Berne converted Sale could’ve unexpectedly have gone in with a half-time lead.
After the break flair was not much in evidence from either side. The ball may’ve been moved from flank to flank by both teams, but what little pressure was applied was met with stern resistance from both Sale and Bath. Grewcock and Bath’s new scrum half Michael Claassens repelled any attempt to breach the Bath defence whilst Cox, Schofield and Foden made sure no-one in blue would pass. Hodgson kicked 2 further penalties and Berne converted one of his own to bring the scores back to 19 -18.
The stuttering third quarter wasn’t helped by the referee, Andrew Small, who proved to be a very fussy official and a tad whistle-happy. I’m not one for criticising the refs too much as I think they’ve got a thankless job, but what’s needed at this level is ‘consistency.’ This has to be applied across the board and shouldn’t be dependent on whether you’re playing at home or away.
When a team have an advantage, as the Sharks did at the midpoint of the half, then play the advantage when it’s on; don’t drag the play back 20 metres for a very marginal initial knock on and deny the non-offending team its advantage. Similarly ‘holding on’ is holding on whether the offence be for 2 seconds or 20. Magnus Lund had barely touched the ground when he was penalised for not releasing. I was convinced Daniel Browne had fallen asleep with the ball in his hands before the referee blew for the offence. If each team gets the same treatment then no-one can complain.
In the end the result hinged on a question of whose nerve and composure would hold the longest. With 3 minutes to go the game was there for the taking. All it needed was patience and a cool head and an unexpected 4 points were in the bag. But as a supporter of Sale Sharks you come to realise that you never can expect the obvious. If something strikes me as obvious, then as sure as eggs is eggs, you can guarantee my team will probably do the opposite.
It frustrates the hell out of me but what can you do? We gave away stupid penalties last season that cost us dear and have been perilously close to doing the same thing again already this season. As I watched the clock tick away the final few minutes I thought to myself please don’t - just don’t: no penalties this time!
Why Chris Jones felt the need to scoop the ball back into the ruck when everyone, their aunt and the ref had seen the ball be presented out of the back of it, I’ll never know. It was a nailed-on penalty. Even someone as one-eyed as me couldn’t dispute it. As soon as the penalty was converted by Berne, I knew it was game over. It was a stupid and unnecessary offence just like at Kingston Park and it cost us the match.
Where do we go from here? Well, we just hope that lessons have been learned and retained and that we can raise our game and bounce back against London Wasps on Friday. There were good things to come out of the game in spite of the result. We continued to play with our heads up and with Charlie leading the line we looked like we can pose a threat and take the ball forward. We seem prepared to stand and fight and we’ve brought through a generation of younger players who’re not afraid to get stuck in and mix it with the seasoned pros.
Foden defended magnificently, Coxy’s shoulders get wider with every match and all the younger lads, Briggs, Tait, Thomas and Day played with passion and showed great spirit and commitment to the team. If a player is proud to wear the shirt and will fight for every inch of turf whilst he’s wearing it, then you can’t really ask for any more – can you?
I still think we’ll fare well this season, even though as a team we’ve not yet lit the blue touch-paper, but, the red mist has to be ditched once and for all. Cool heads and calm, controlled actions and temperaments are what win you trophies. Rash actions and decisions only ever cost you results.
Joe Williams
Charlie’s still my darling
There’ll no doubt be many who are ready to point fingers at the esteemed fly half following Saturday’s last-gasp defeat by Bath at the Recreation Ground. From where I was sitting that would be a completely unreasonable and unjustifiable conclusion to jump to. Yes Charlie Hodgson did scuff the first drop goal attempt to snatch an unexpected Sale victory in the dying seconds and yes, his second attempt shortly after did sail wide of the posts, but any semblance of blame does not lie on his shoulders.
He was the catalyst from which every creative Sharks’ spark emanated. He controlled the game with some sublime and astute kicking out of hand and some solid place kicking. He was able, at last, to get our backline moving. In short, he was the reason we were still in with a shout in the end. So blame him if you like, but you’d be wrong.
Our ‘prince’ may never be a king in the eyes of the old-school, conservative establishment at the RFU, but as far as I’m concerned he was crowned many, many moons ago. We missed him dreadfully last season thanks to England and I for one am so grateful to have him back pulling the strings again. Without him yesterday we wouldn’t have had a hope of getting any sort of result, let alone a losing bonus point.
The pattern was set in the first ten minutes. We were slow off the block, missing too many tackles, losing too many set pieces and gifting opportunities to a Bath side who, let’s face it haven’t lost at the Rec for almost a year. You don’t present opportunities like that to a dominant pack and the likes of Danny Grewcock and just expect to win at a canter in the end. Had Shaun Berne put away both conversions and a penalty we would’ve been 17 nil down with under 15 minutes on the clock. Bath were odds-on for a home win anyway: please lads, don’t make the job any easier by giving them a head start as well.
Fortunately this initial onslaught didn’t or couldn’t last. Maybe the pace was too much for the aged legs of Grewcock and his other forwards or maybe the re-organisation of the Bath backline following the departure of their giant wing, Matt Banahan, just proved too much of a disruption. What’s undeniable is that had Bath been able to keep this tempo going, there’s no doubting that we would’ve been dead and buried by half time. When the tempo slowed we finally began to put some of our own moves together. We started to pressurize the stuttering Bath backline and looked more like the team of old.
Following a period of sustained Sale pressure at the set piece and one or two line out steals by Sean Cox, we eventually managed to get some points on the board. A relatively straightforward Hodgson penalty was followed by a trademark drop-goal: things at last were starting to look a little brighter. Just before the half hour mark we started to throw the ball around a little more and create space that just hadn’t been available earlier on.
Bath are well organised team and very difficult to break down, as Leicester Tigers discovered last week. This season they’ve also added flair and penetration to their repertoire and believe in running the ball from deep. The Sharks were able to capitalise on this and stretch the Bath defence, creating space in the channels and on the flanks. Another good scrum and quick thinking and soft hands from Hodgson allowed Chris Mayor to straighten his line and open up space outside for Ripol to power in for the try in the corner. But for a pointless and unnecessary penalty which Berne converted Sale could’ve unexpectedly have gone in with a half-time lead.
After the break flair was not much in evidence from either side. The ball may’ve been moved from flank to flank by both teams, but what little pressure was applied was met with stern resistance from both Sale and Bath. Grewcock and Bath’s new scrum half Michael Claassens repelled any attempt to breach the Bath defence whilst Cox, Schofield and Foden made sure no-one in blue would pass. Hodgson kicked 2 further penalties and Berne converted one of his own to bring the scores back to 19 -18.
The stuttering third quarter wasn’t helped by the referee, Andrew Small, who proved to be a very fussy official and a tad whistle-happy. I’m not one for criticising the refs too much as I think they’ve got a thankless job, but what’s needed at this level is ‘consistency.’ This has to be applied across the board and shouldn’t be dependent on whether you’re playing at home or away.
When a team have an advantage, as the Sharks did at the midpoint of the half, then play the advantage when it’s on; don’t drag the play back 20 metres for a very marginal initial knock on and deny the non-offending team its advantage. Similarly ‘holding on’ is holding on whether the offence be for 2 seconds or 20. Magnus Lund had barely touched the ground when he was penalised for not releasing. I was convinced Daniel Browne had fallen asleep with the ball in his hands before the referee blew for the offence. If each team gets the same treatment then no-one can complain.
In the end the result hinged on a question of whose nerve and composure would hold the longest. With 3 minutes to go the game was there for the taking. All it needed was patience and a cool head and an unexpected 4 points were in the bag. But as a supporter of Sale Sharks you come to realise that you never can expect the obvious. If something strikes me as obvious, then as sure as eggs is eggs, you can guarantee my team will probably do the opposite.
It frustrates the hell out of me but what can you do? We gave away stupid penalties last season that cost us dear and have been perilously close to doing the same thing again already this season. As I watched the clock tick away the final few minutes I thought to myself please don’t - just don’t: no penalties this time!
Why Chris Jones felt the need to scoop the ball back into the ruck when everyone, their aunt and the ref had seen the ball be presented out of the back of it, I’ll never know. It was a nailed-on penalty. Even someone as one-eyed as me couldn’t dispute it. As soon as the penalty was converted by Berne, I knew it was game over. It was a stupid and unnecessary offence just like at Kingston Park and it cost us the match.
Where do we go from here? Well, we just hope that lessons have been learned and retained and that we can raise our game and bounce back against London Wasps on Friday. There were good things to come out of the game in spite of the result. We continued to play with our heads up and with Charlie leading the line we looked like we can pose a threat and take the ball forward. We seem prepared to stand and fight and we’ve brought through a generation of younger players who’re not afraid to get stuck in and mix it with the seasoned pros.
Foden defended magnificently, Coxy’s shoulders get wider with every match and all the younger lads, Briggs, Tait, Thomas and Day played with passion and showed great spirit and commitment to the team. If a player is proud to wear the shirt and will fight for every inch of turf whilst he’s wearing it, then you can’t really ask for any more – can you?
I still think we’ll fare well this season, even though as a team we’ve not yet lit the blue touch-paper, but, the red mist has to be ditched once and for all. Cool heads and calm, controlled actions and temperaments are what win you trophies. Rash actions and decisions only ever cost you results.
Joe Williams
Oct 07 Sale v Wasps
Sale Sharks v London Wasps
The Young Ones …
You would’ve thought that after comprehensively outplaying and beating the current Heineken Cup champions, second string or not, the mood around Edgeley Park on Friday would’ve been buoyant and upbeat. However, from what I saw and heard you would be thinking incorrectly. The mood was if anything relatively sombre and introspective.
Many supporters bemoaned our lack of a cutting edge and our inability to put a clearly inferior team to the sword. Others were simply critical of our style of play, describing it as rugby to ‘stop the pulse’ rather than set it ‘racing’. Whilst I share some of these concerns, especially our inability to turn the screw when the pressure is on, I’m afraid I simply refuse to go along with the twilight-zone thinking that is tending to dominate the atmosphere around our current home at Edgeley Park. I’m more concerned with other matters, but that can wait.
Perhaps we aren’t equipped to throw the ball around like they do in Super 14 – maybe we don’t have the players who are comfortable or skilful enough to play that way. Who am I to judge? I haven’t represented my country at the highest level so am not qualified to pass comment. All I will say is that while Super 14 may be frenetically paced and fantastic to watch at times, that style of play doesn’t necessarily win a game. Ask the Southern Hemisphere players who were unceremoniously dumped out of the World Cup at the weekend and sent home to re-discover the art of humility. Sometimes pragmatism and a slightly more conservative approach to a game is the more effective way to go.
Like many of our more critical supporters I, too, remember the halcyon and, dare I say, rose-tinted days of Heywood Road. Without a doubt we could be fantastic on our day and a joy to watch, but I seem to remember we lost as many as we won, if not more. Philippe Saint Andre and Kingsley Jones have changed our style of play without a doubt, adding physicality and brute force to our side. As a consequence we generally tend to win more than we lose now, with the exception of last year when fate dealt us a rather cruel hand. I might not be altogether happy with the way we always play the game and the style with which we do it, but I do prefer to be on a wining side.
I’m still as perplexed as Ian MacGeechan about how we didn’t manage to inflict greater humiliation on a Wasps side that was as poor as I’ve seen play at Edgeley Park. We managed to nil them for the first time in 32 years of competitive rugby, but we should’ve secured a winning bonus point too. Why this didn’t happen is beyond me. We dominated territorially from the outset and out-thought and outplayed them throughout the course of the whole game. Our pack was dominant, our set-piece as good as it’s been all season, our penalty count was thankfully minimal and our open, running back play as slick and fluid as I’ve seen for some time, but we just couldn’t break then down.
Mind you, perhaps I shouldn’t be over-critical. Any team whose defence is marshalled by Shaun Edwards, love him or hate him, is never going to be a pushover. The rush defence that Wasps employ has served them well over the years and is generally effective against most teams. Let’s not forget, this same team, bar for one or two minor changes, pushed a second string Leicester Tigers close last week. Maybe Wasps weren’t as poor as I’ve suggested but were made to look that way by our team.
Haskell, the very highly-rated back row forward, was anonymous: Lund and Jones made sure of that. Cipriani, who was fortunate to stay on the pitch for the full 80 minutes, is one of England’s brightest prospects, but he’ll probably see Foden in his nightmares and dread any future high balls that come his way. Whether England comes a-calling for him or not is in the hands of others but, it’s always worth remembering, reputation means nothing in rugby. You’re only as good as your last game – a lesson our Antipodean friends and perhaps some of our World Cup stars might also care to remember.
Before the season started our coaches issued a challenge to the remaining members of the squad: if you want to cement a place in the team, go out and prove your worth and fight for the shirt. Well, Sean Cox, Neil Briggs, David Tait, Magnus Lund, Ben Foden and Lee Thomas have done just that. They’ve improved with every game and against Wasps they put in their most effective performance to date, with Thomas, Foden and Cox shining brightly. What more can they do to keep their place when our absent stars return?
That’s the 64,000 dollar question. Personally I can’t see how Lee Thomas can ever expect to retain his place when Luke McAllister joins us in November. Too much money has been staked on his reputation as one of rugby’s superstars. How can you not play him in the circumstances? This is what concerns and troubles me. It must be incredibly demoralising to know that even if you play out of your skin, there’s every chance that you’ll still slip back to being either just a fringe player once again or a bench-warmer.
Who would you choose, given the choice and opportunity between Cox and Jones, Foden or Lamont, or Thomas and McAllister? I know I’d struggle in my mind, though I suspect my heart would probably rule my head. Then again, that’s why I’m not a Premiership coach. Fortunately I don’t have to make those decisions. Perhaps it’s worth bearing in mind though that sometimes words said off the cuff, without the necessary thought about consequences, can occasionally come back to bite at the most unexpected times. Remember the promises about Edgeley Park that were made at Heywood Road? That’s nearly four years ago now and the consequences still rumble on. Maybe words are sometimes best left unsaid?
Joe Williams
The Young Ones …
You would’ve thought that after comprehensively outplaying and beating the current Heineken Cup champions, second string or not, the mood around Edgeley Park on Friday would’ve been buoyant and upbeat. However, from what I saw and heard you would be thinking incorrectly. The mood was if anything relatively sombre and introspective.
Many supporters bemoaned our lack of a cutting edge and our inability to put a clearly inferior team to the sword. Others were simply critical of our style of play, describing it as rugby to ‘stop the pulse’ rather than set it ‘racing’. Whilst I share some of these concerns, especially our inability to turn the screw when the pressure is on, I’m afraid I simply refuse to go along with the twilight-zone thinking that is tending to dominate the atmosphere around our current home at Edgeley Park. I’m more concerned with other matters, but that can wait.
Perhaps we aren’t equipped to throw the ball around like they do in Super 14 – maybe we don’t have the players who are comfortable or skilful enough to play that way. Who am I to judge? I haven’t represented my country at the highest level so am not qualified to pass comment. All I will say is that while Super 14 may be frenetically paced and fantastic to watch at times, that style of play doesn’t necessarily win a game. Ask the Southern Hemisphere players who were unceremoniously dumped out of the World Cup at the weekend and sent home to re-discover the art of humility. Sometimes pragmatism and a slightly more conservative approach to a game is the more effective way to go.
Like many of our more critical supporters I, too, remember the halcyon and, dare I say, rose-tinted days of Heywood Road. Without a doubt we could be fantastic on our day and a joy to watch, but I seem to remember we lost as many as we won, if not more. Philippe Saint Andre and Kingsley Jones have changed our style of play without a doubt, adding physicality and brute force to our side. As a consequence we generally tend to win more than we lose now, with the exception of last year when fate dealt us a rather cruel hand. I might not be altogether happy with the way we always play the game and the style with which we do it, but I do prefer to be on a wining side.
I’m still as perplexed as Ian MacGeechan about how we didn’t manage to inflict greater humiliation on a Wasps side that was as poor as I’ve seen play at Edgeley Park. We managed to nil them for the first time in 32 years of competitive rugby, but we should’ve secured a winning bonus point too. Why this didn’t happen is beyond me. We dominated territorially from the outset and out-thought and outplayed them throughout the course of the whole game. Our pack was dominant, our set-piece as good as it’s been all season, our penalty count was thankfully minimal and our open, running back play as slick and fluid as I’ve seen for some time, but we just couldn’t break then down.
Mind you, perhaps I shouldn’t be over-critical. Any team whose defence is marshalled by Shaun Edwards, love him or hate him, is never going to be a pushover. The rush defence that Wasps employ has served them well over the years and is generally effective against most teams. Let’s not forget, this same team, bar for one or two minor changes, pushed a second string Leicester Tigers close last week. Maybe Wasps weren’t as poor as I’ve suggested but were made to look that way by our team.
Haskell, the very highly-rated back row forward, was anonymous: Lund and Jones made sure of that. Cipriani, who was fortunate to stay on the pitch for the full 80 minutes, is one of England’s brightest prospects, but he’ll probably see Foden in his nightmares and dread any future high balls that come his way. Whether England comes a-calling for him or not is in the hands of others but, it’s always worth remembering, reputation means nothing in rugby. You’re only as good as your last game – a lesson our Antipodean friends and perhaps some of our World Cup stars might also care to remember.
Before the season started our coaches issued a challenge to the remaining members of the squad: if you want to cement a place in the team, go out and prove your worth and fight for the shirt. Well, Sean Cox, Neil Briggs, David Tait, Magnus Lund, Ben Foden and Lee Thomas have done just that. They’ve improved with every game and against Wasps they put in their most effective performance to date, with Thomas, Foden and Cox shining brightly. What more can they do to keep their place when our absent stars return?
That’s the 64,000 dollar question. Personally I can’t see how Lee Thomas can ever expect to retain his place when Luke McAllister joins us in November. Too much money has been staked on his reputation as one of rugby’s superstars. How can you not play him in the circumstances? This is what concerns and troubles me. It must be incredibly demoralising to know that even if you play out of your skin, there’s every chance that you’ll still slip back to being either just a fringe player once again or a bench-warmer.
Who would you choose, given the choice and opportunity between Cox and Jones, Foden or Lamont, or Thomas and McAllister? I know I’d struggle in my mind, though I suspect my heart would probably rule my head. Then again, that’s why I’m not a Premiership coach. Fortunately I don’t have to make those decisions. Perhaps it’s worth bearing in mind though that sometimes words said off the cuff, without the necessary thought about consequences, can occasionally come back to bite at the most unexpected times. Remember the promises about Edgeley Park that were made at Heywood Road? That’s nearly four years ago now and the consequences still rumble on. Maybe words are sometimes best left unsaid?
Joe Williams
Oct 07 Gloucester v Sale
Gloucester v Sale Sharks
Mullered, minced and marmalised!
Even the most wildly optimistic Sale supporter, and I count myself right up there amongst them, would’ve travelled down to Kingsholm more in hope than expectation of an unlikely Sharks victory. Gloucester have been lucky to escape the mass decimation of their team through World Cup call-ups and have added physicality and brute force to their all-ready potent squad over the closed season. Fortunately we were spared the trickery of Simpson Daniel and the explosive power of the Volcano, but even those small blessings weren’t enough to help Sale escape Castle Grim with their honour intact. We were conclusively beaten by a better side, but on another day could’ve come away with a result had not the old demon of indiscipline come back to haunt us.
For once Sale came out of the traps firing and immediately started to press the Gloucester defence pinning them in their own 22 for the first few minutes. We actually looked like a team with ambition and intent and it was obvious that the game plan had been set down by the coaches – take the game to them and don’t sit back and wait for them to throw the ball around. Foden, Ripol and Laharrague all looked lively and took each and every opportunity to run the ball back at the Gloucester defence. The tactics immediately paid dividends when the Cherry and Whites infringed and conceded a penalty deep in their own 22.
Charlie showed his intent and kicked for the corner, surprising the raucous and partisan Shed. From the resultant line out the Sale pack mauled their way infield and towards the Gloucester 5 metre line. As the maul collapsed everyone appeared to either stop or go into slow motion, as if already believing Ashley Rowden had blown for another penalty. The only one alive to the opportunity was our Premiership debutant, Benoit Bourrust, who picked the ball up and plodded over the line placing the ball just to the side of the posts. Gloucester stood and watched as if they couldn’t believe what had just happened. I wanted to jump up and cheer but as I was in the press box I decided sitting on my hands and keeping schtum was probably more appropriate. Charlie’s conversion clipped the inside of the posts. Still, 5 nil up after 5 minutes was a better start than most of us expected.
From the resulting 22 drop out Charlie was taken late by Alex Brown and looked stunned but he managed to hold on to the ball. Unfortunately he was deemed to have held on too long and Sale conceded the first of many penalties. Yes, that old chestnut again. Fortunately Lamb’s kick went wide, but you really can’t afford to concede penalties at kickable distances at this level: these are lessons that should’ve been learned by now. Having said that Brown, James and Narraway’s increasing dominance at the line out would arguably have meant we would’ve conceded points anyway had Gloucester kicked to touch. Mr Rowden was quick to penalise even the slightest offence however marginal and Sale should’ve spotted this early on and adjusted their game plan.
Gloucester were obviously aware of the ref’s idiosyncrasies and started to open up, moving the ball wide at every opportunity and using their dominant pack to batter their way up-field when that failed. All we managed to muster in response for the next 15 minutes was an attempted drop goal, a Hodgson penalty which sailed just past the post and a sweeping cross field move that died a death after a bizarre training ground reverse backhand pass from Elvis to no-one. Lamb, on the other hand, started to take control of the game with astute kicking and quick thinking. Gloucester began to look like the team that can run rings around others. Although our scrambled defence performed admirably battering back wave after wave of Gloucester attacks, we kept conceding penalty after penalty. Soon we were 12 -5 down and the early promising start was but a distant memory.
Just when all seemed to be lost, up stepped Ben Foden. He took the ball in his own 22 and instead of kicking to touch, jinked inside Morgan and swept down the touchline beating Tindall and Bailey before off-loading to Ripol who shimmied past Lamb to place the ball under the posts. It was by far the best move of the match and lit up what was fast becoming a very stuttering Sale performance. So Foden’s pass was forward – I knew that as did the entire South stand but it wasn’t called by the touch judge, so there. You take what you can get. Naturally I was so carried away by the moment that I forgot where I was and that I was supposed to be impartial. You’d think they’d never seen anyone singing and dancing in a Press box before. Charlie converted the try and we went in even-Stevens at half time, much to the annoyance of the home crowd.
It became obvious in the first minute of the second half that Dean Ryan’s size tens had been used to devastating effect in the changing rooms during the break. Gloucester were a different side and got at Sale, immediately sweeping the ball down the flanks and putting the Sharks on the back foot. What happened next decided the match, or some may choose to tell you that. Coxy was pinged for an infringement and the ref immediately reached for his pocket. Was he sin-binned for hands in at the ruck or for killing the ball? I couldn’t say and neither could any Sharks’ players after the game. All I could make out was that Mr Rowden had seen some infringement, but it was impossible to decide exactly what that was as his gestures and hand signals looked more like some weird form of theatrical tic-tac. I’m sure the angry and boisterous Shed might‘ve had some influence in making up his mind.
With Coxy off, Sale were destined to suffer not just at the set piece but in open field play too. Even the introduction of Jason White and Wiggy couldn’t stop the rot. The Sharks were going backwards and were uncompetitive at both the lineout and scrum. Leon Lloyd’s two tries were testament to this dominance. Only frantic and desperate defending saved us from going even further behind. From what I could see we were going to get leathered whether Coxy was on or off. Gloucester were on a roll and any lack of cutting edge they’d demonstrated in the first half had been left behind in the changing room. We were second best for 12 minutes and were lucky to have not fallen further behind.
When Coxy came back on he played like a man possessed. If he was suffering or embarrassed by what had happened, you’d never have known. He hit rucks and mauls with an added ferocity and it came as no surprise that the rest of the team raised their game too. For the next 10 minutes Sale were able to camp in the Gloucester 22. We moved the ball wide and then back in field, retaining it well and working through the phases. But there was little penetration. The Gloucester defence is every bit as effective as their attack. No matter what the Sharks tried, there was no way through the red and white wall. At least we had the courage and conviction to kick to the corner when given a penalty and not opt for the posts. Sadly our line out was second best, as it had been all day, and the ball was turned over.
When you’re down and Lady Luck isn’t on your side, fate can be cruel and unforgiving. Despite desperate defending, Sale were unable to keep Gloucester at bay for too long. A fluke Lamb clearance to touch landed just short of the line and bounced up cruelly. Sale assumed the ball would find touch and gave up the chase, but Balshaw kept his eye on the ball and was able to pick up the wicked bounce and fly down the wing, off-loading to Morgan who raced in ahead of Hodgson to give to give Gloucester their third try and effectively stymie any chance of a Sharks’ comeback.
The only ‘consolation’ to be had from a disappointing day was that at least our last-ditch defending denied Gloucester the bonus point. Alright, it’s not much consolation I know but any port in a storm. Five games into the season and another away defeat, another 300 mile round trip and another frustrating and desperately unwelcome result – not the best way to start the weekend. Will it stop me travelling and supporting my team? Of course it won’t. I’m an eternal optimist and my glass is always half-full, but I think I might go and buy some Araldite just to plug any future leaks.
Joe Williams
Mullered, minced and marmalised!
Even the most wildly optimistic Sale supporter, and I count myself right up there amongst them, would’ve travelled down to Kingsholm more in hope than expectation of an unlikely Sharks victory. Gloucester have been lucky to escape the mass decimation of their team through World Cup call-ups and have added physicality and brute force to their all-ready potent squad over the closed season. Fortunately we were spared the trickery of Simpson Daniel and the explosive power of the Volcano, but even those small blessings weren’t enough to help Sale escape Castle Grim with their honour intact. We were conclusively beaten by a better side, but on another day could’ve come away with a result had not the old demon of indiscipline come back to haunt us.
For once Sale came out of the traps firing and immediately started to press the Gloucester defence pinning them in their own 22 for the first few minutes. We actually looked like a team with ambition and intent and it was obvious that the game plan had been set down by the coaches – take the game to them and don’t sit back and wait for them to throw the ball around. Foden, Ripol and Laharrague all looked lively and took each and every opportunity to run the ball back at the Gloucester defence. The tactics immediately paid dividends when the Cherry and Whites infringed and conceded a penalty deep in their own 22.
Charlie showed his intent and kicked for the corner, surprising the raucous and partisan Shed. From the resultant line out the Sale pack mauled their way infield and towards the Gloucester 5 metre line. As the maul collapsed everyone appeared to either stop or go into slow motion, as if already believing Ashley Rowden had blown for another penalty. The only one alive to the opportunity was our Premiership debutant, Benoit Bourrust, who picked the ball up and plodded over the line placing the ball just to the side of the posts. Gloucester stood and watched as if they couldn’t believe what had just happened. I wanted to jump up and cheer but as I was in the press box I decided sitting on my hands and keeping schtum was probably more appropriate. Charlie’s conversion clipped the inside of the posts. Still, 5 nil up after 5 minutes was a better start than most of us expected.
From the resulting 22 drop out Charlie was taken late by Alex Brown and looked stunned but he managed to hold on to the ball. Unfortunately he was deemed to have held on too long and Sale conceded the first of many penalties. Yes, that old chestnut again. Fortunately Lamb’s kick went wide, but you really can’t afford to concede penalties at kickable distances at this level: these are lessons that should’ve been learned by now. Having said that Brown, James and Narraway’s increasing dominance at the line out would arguably have meant we would’ve conceded points anyway had Gloucester kicked to touch. Mr Rowden was quick to penalise even the slightest offence however marginal and Sale should’ve spotted this early on and adjusted their game plan.
Gloucester were obviously aware of the ref’s idiosyncrasies and started to open up, moving the ball wide at every opportunity and using their dominant pack to batter their way up-field when that failed. All we managed to muster in response for the next 15 minutes was an attempted drop goal, a Hodgson penalty which sailed just past the post and a sweeping cross field move that died a death after a bizarre training ground reverse backhand pass from Elvis to no-one. Lamb, on the other hand, started to take control of the game with astute kicking and quick thinking. Gloucester began to look like the team that can run rings around others. Although our scrambled defence performed admirably battering back wave after wave of Gloucester attacks, we kept conceding penalty after penalty. Soon we were 12 -5 down and the early promising start was but a distant memory.
Just when all seemed to be lost, up stepped Ben Foden. He took the ball in his own 22 and instead of kicking to touch, jinked inside Morgan and swept down the touchline beating Tindall and Bailey before off-loading to Ripol who shimmied past Lamb to place the ball under the posts. It was by far the best move of the match and lit up what was fast becoming a very stuttering Sale performance. So Foden’s pass was forward – I knew that as did the entire South stand but it wasn’t called by the touch judge, so there. You take what you can get. Naturally I was so carried away by the moment that I forgot where I was and that I was supposed to be impartial. You’d think they’d never seen anyone singing and dancing in a Press box before. Charlie converted the try and we went in even-Stevens at half time, much to the annoyance of the home crowd.
It became obvious in the first minute of the second half that Dean Ryan’s size tens had been used to devastating effect in the changing rooms during the break. Gloucester were a different side and got at Sale, immediately sweeping the ball down the flanks and putting the Sharks on the back foot. What happened next decided the match, or some may choose to tell you that. Coxy was pinged for an infringement and the ref immediately reached for his pocket. Was he sin-binned for hands in at the ruck or for killing the ball? I couldn’t say and neither could any Sharks’ players after the game. All I could make out was that Mr Rowden had seen some infringement, but it was impossible to decide exactly what that was as his gestures and hand signals looked more like some weird form of theatrical tic-tac. I’m sure the angry and boisterous Shed might‘ve had some influence in making up his mind.
With Coxy off, Sale were destined to suffer not just at the set piece but in open field play too. Even the introduction of Jason White and Wiggy couldn’t stop the rot. The Sharks were going backwards and were uncompetitive at both the lineout and scrum. Leon Lloyd’s two tries were testament to this dominance. Only frantic and desperate defending saved us from going even further behind. From what I could see we were going to get leathered whether Coxy was on or off. Gloucester were on a roll and any lack of cutting edge they’d demonstrated in the first half had been left behind in the changing room. We were second best for 12 minutes and were lucky to have not fallen further behind.
When Coxy came back on he played like a man possessed. If he was suffering or embarrassed by what had happened, you’d never have known. He hit rucks and mauls with an added ferocity and it came as no surprise that the rest of the team raised their game too. For the next 10 minutes Sale were able to camp in the Gloucester 22. We moved the ball wide and then back in field, retaining it well and working through the phases. But there was little penetration. The Gloucester defence is every bit as effective as their attack. No matter what the Sharks tried, there was no way through the red and white wall. At least we had the courage and conviction to kick to the corner when given a penalty and not opt for the posts. Sadly our line out was second best, as it had been all day, and the ball was turned over.
When you’re down and Lady Luck isn’t on your side, fate can be cruel and unforgiving. Despite desperate defending, Sale were unable to keep Gloucester at bay for too long. A fluke Lamb clearance to touch landed just short of the line and bounced up cruelly. Sale assumed the ball would find touch and gave up the chase, but Balshaw kept his eye on the ball and was able to pick up the wicked bounce and fly down the wing, off-loading to Morgan who raced in ahead of Hodgson to give to give Gloucester their third try and effectively stymie any chance of a Sharks’ comeback.
The only ‘consolation’ to be had from a disappointing day was that at least our last-ditch defending denied Gloucester the bonus point. Alright, it’s not much consolation I know but any port in a storm. Five games into the season and another away defeat, another 300 mile round trip and another frustrating and desperately unwelcome result – not the best way to start the weekend. Will it stop me travelling and supporting my team? Of course it won’t. I’m an eternal optimist and my glass is always half-full, but I think I might go and buy some Araldite just to plug any future leaks.
Joe Williams
Oct 07 Sale v Saracens
Sale Sharks v Saracens
Thomas – The Tank Engine?
Alan Gaffney looked as perplexed as he was disappointed after Friday night’s defeat at Edgeley Park, and in fairness, he probably had every right to be. He was probably wondering how his team could’ve played so well and yet lost. Sadly he didn’t have his Springbok-adopted sidekick with him to offer any words of comfort - Eddie was far too busy preparing himself for smugness in Paris and looking forward to getting his hands on a winner’s medal at long last.
Mind you, I’m sure Philippe Saint Andre would’ve felt the same had the boot been on the other foot. Both teams played with passion, belief and endeavour, making the contest scintillating and exciting to watch. It’s a shame there had to be a loser, because both teams produced on the night. Well, actually, no it’s not a shame if you’re a Sharks fan: it’s exactly what the doctor ordered – thrilling, edge of your seat rugby and a bonus point to boot. Can it get better than that? Well, yes it can but maybe I’m just nit-picking.
Sale started off brightly enough with both scrum and line out functioning well: after last week that was a blessing in itself. Faure, Briggs and Evans caused real problems for Yates, Cairns and Johnson, while Maggie, Jones and Bonner Evans made a real nuisance of themselves around the park. At long last our forwards started to clear out the rucks and present clean, quick ball for Wiggy. Charlie’s kicking out of hand was thankfully back to its best.
You could sense that this was a game that the team was really up for. Two early Hodgson penalties steadied the nerves and things were looking very promising. The only problem I could see was that our midfield was playing too flat. Sorrell and Powell sat deeper behind Jackson and were able to attack the floated ball at pace. Our backs looked lively and ready to run the ball down the channels and were ferocious in the tackle, but as soon as Sarries started to play with width our system began to stutter.
Saracens had done their homework and at every opportunity Matadigo, Seymour and Skirving attacked our 10 channel causing Charlie real problems. Whenever that happens we look like a team who’re likely to concede points, if not by leaking tries then by senselessly conceding penalties. Thankfully, we kept our discipline on the night and no-one saw the red mist, but unfortunately our drift defence just couldn’t cope with some adventurous and enterprising Sarries’ moves.
Jackson’s influence started to tell and he put the Sharks on the back foot. Before you could blink an eye, any early advantage had been wiped out by tries from former Sale bulldog, Kevin Yates after a cheeky line-out steal and Sakiusa Matadigo from a lovely defence splitting pass from his stand off.
If I’ve a concern about our game-plan this season it has to be the fact that our defence looks vulnerable when put under pressure. We saw it at Newcastle and also last week at Castle Grim. I know it might be a little bit priggish to complain after we managed to get a bonus point win, but it’s something that needs to be addressed if we want to start playing on the biggest European stage next year.
As good as the atmosphere was you could almost sense that unspoken fear among the crowd, a sort of a collective gulp as we all thought – ‘oh God, here we go again.’ We looked destined to go in at half time 17-6 down. Given the way Saracens have been despatching teams this season perhaps it wouldn’t have been that surprising, but it seemed illogical given the way we’d started the game. What was needed was a spark, a moment of inspiration that would lift the team.
It arrived in the form of a bone-crunching tackle from new boy Rory Lamont as he shunted Ed Thrower into touch denying Saracens what looked like a nailed on try. From that moment, we played like a team inspired. Jones made a telling break down the centre shrugging off two defenders before off-loading to Ripol who backed himself to cross the line in the corner. Penney denied him the chance but you could see that determination to strike back burning fiercely.
Shortly before the break Lamont surged down the flank, brushing aside Powell and Thrower in a congested Saracens 22 before off-loading to Magnus Lund who found space and popped a pass to Wiggy who crossed smartly in the corner. Charlie hit the conversion from the narrowest of angles and when the whistle blew for the break, suddenly things seemed brighter. The mood lifted and even the dancing chicken at half time couldn’t deflate the upbeat, expectant mood.
The second half took me back. How long was it since I’d seen Sale throw the ball around with such purpose and intent? Well, it was that long ago that I can’t actually remember it. What made the difference? Our centres played deeper for the next forty minutes. Wiggy started to give better, quicker service to Charlie and he in turn was able to set up Thomas at second receiver who took the ball at pace and bulldozed his way deep into the Saracens 22. His nickname might be Bomber, but maybe he should change it to ‘Tank’ given the force of his tackling. Maybe he’s armour-plated after all. We definitely missed his influence at Gloucester last week. Not only can he defend with the best and chase down every high ball, but he can step off both feet and kick too. Granted his later penalty was a little wayward, but nobody’s perfect.
It was true edge of your seat rugby for the next thirty minutes – gripping, breathless stuff that was absolutely thrilling to watch as the lead changed hands regularly. Lamont capped a fabulous debut, latching on to a floated Hodgson pass and sliding in the corner. Charlie then converted from the touchline only to have the advantage snatched back as Jackson levelled the scores with a penalty.
Kiel picked up a loose ball on half way and fed the ball quickly to Hodgson who dummied De Kock and laid the ball on to Thomas. Somehow the ball finished up with Ripol on the wing and he managed to evade a series of challenges and a collapsed pile of bodies, squirming back inside into space. He may have been the smallest man on the field but his performance was towering. He passed the ball back inside to Thomas who slid in under the posts. Jackson then tried to poop the party atmosphere by nailing a drop goal and then sniping an easy, badly defended try under our posts.
With ten minutes to go it looked like we’d blown our chance, but the crowd could sense that it wasn’t over. Both sides were determined to go for broke and run the ball at every available opportunity. Sale have obviously adapted their style of play since Jos Baxendell came back to coach. Instead of the lacklustre pick and go show of last week, we tried to keep the ball alive and use whatever space was available. It was fantastic to watch, though more than a little nerve-racking. The ball was moved across both flanks and seemed to involve virtually every player in a blue shirt, before ‘Mr Utility’, Ben Foden squirmed his way under a despairing Saracens’ defence to plant the ball in the corner and secure our first try-bonus point of the season.
He may not like the description of ‘utility back’, nor the comparisons to Austin Healy, but he’s been a revelation at full back this season and seems to get better with each match. Maybe that’s where he’s destined to play: it’s not for me to say but he’s been far more involved when he’s played there and continues to rack up the tries.
The last 4 minutes lasted approximately 20, or so it seemed. You always sensed that there had to be one last throw of the dice. Saracens were not about to lie down and die and sure enough, back they came forcing a penalty for hands in at a ruck just outside our 22. Jackson had to kick for the corner as they were 4 points adrift at that point. He swears he didn’t kick the ball dead. From where I was sat it looked that way: I was every bit as sure his kick went dead as I was that Cueto’s foot didn’t hit the line in the World Cup Final. It appears I was only wrong once.
Perhaps it was just our time for a little luck: it did after all desert us last season, so maybe we were due for some. By the time the players had packed down for the final 5 metre scrum I’d given up on the edge of your seat position. It was getting uncomfortable and was highly likely to end in bodily injury, so I stood instead. Fortunately everyone else was of the same mind or I could’ve been in trouble.
A big scrum, possession secured and finally, finally the ball is cleared to touch. The referee, Mr Small, God bless his cotton socks, blows the whistle for time which is just as well as by this stage my pulse was racing quicker than Bryan Habana’s feet. To come away with 5 points is good: to come away with 5 points against a team like Saracens is an achievement. They didn’t deserve to lose, but I’m more than happy with the result. Here’s to many more.
So, what happens now and where do we go from here? The Guinness Premiership takes a back seat for a while, to be replaced by the EDF Cup and the European Challenge Cup. The EDF Cup I can take or leave as I see it as a distraction, but the European matches could be interesting and raise some very difficult selection issues. Should Thomas stand aside and be replaced by McAlister? Should Briggs’ fine form be overlooked with Bruno shoed into the front row? Will Foden be played at tight head in the next game? These are questions only a Director of Rugby can answer. However, perhaps that might be over-looking what is possibly the most important question we should all be asking. Will we have a Director of Rugby when the Premiership resumes?
Joe Williams
Thomas – The Tank Engine?
Alan Gaffney looked as perplexed as he was disappointed after Friday night’s defeat at Edgeley Park, and in fairness, he probably had every right to be. He was probably wondering how his team could’ve played so well and yet lost. Sadly he didn’t have his Springbok-adopted sidekick with him to offer any words of comfort - Eddie was far too busy preparing himself for smugness in Paris and looking forward to getting his hands on a winner’s medal at long last.
Mind you, I’m sure Philippe Saint Andre would’ve felt the same had the boot been on the other foot. Both teams played with passion, belief and endeavour, making the contest scintillating and exciting to watch. It’s a shame there had to be a loser, because both teams produced on the night. Well, actually, no it’s not a shame if you’re a Sharks fan: it’s exactly what the doctor ordered – thrilling, edge of your seat rugby and a bonus point to boot. Can it get better than that? Well, yes it can but maybe I’m just nit-picking.
Sale started off brightly enough with both scrum and line out functioning well: after last week that was a blessing in itself. Faure, Briggs and Evans caused real problems for Yates, Cairns and Johnson, while Maggie, Jones and Bonner Evans made a real nuisance of themselves around the park. At long last our forwards started to clear out the rucks and present clean, quick ball for Wiggy. Charlie’s kicking out of hand was thankfully back to its best.
You could sense that this was a game that the team was really up for. Two early Hodgson penalties steadied the nerves and things were looking very promising. The only problem I could see was that our midfield was playing too flat. Sorrell and Powell sat deeper behind Jackson and were able to attack the floated ball at pace. Our backs looked lively and ready to run the ball down the channels and were ferocious in the tackle, but as soon as Sarries started to play with width our system began to stutter.
Saracens had done their homework and at every opportunity Matadigo, Seymour and Skirving attacked our 10 channel causing Charlie real problems. Whenever that happens we look like a team who’re likely to concede points, if not by leaking tries then by senselessly conceding penalties. Thankfully, we kept our discipline on the night and no-one saw the red mist, but unfortunately our drift defence just couldn’t cope with some adventurous and enterprising Sarries’ moves.
Jackson’s influence started to tell and he put the Sharks on the back foot. Before you could blink an eye, any early advantage had been wiped out by tries from former Sale bulldog, Kevin Yates after a cheeky line-out steal and Sakiusa Matadigo from a lovely defence splitting pass from his stand off.
If I’ve a concern about our game-plan this season it has to be the fact that our defence looks vulnerable when put under pressure. We saw it at Newcastle and also last week at Castle Grim. I know it might be a little bit priggish to complain after we managed to get a bonus point win, but it’s something that needs to be addressed if we want to start playing on the biggest European stage next year.
As good as the atmosphere was you could almost sense that unspoken fear among the crowd, a sort of a collective gulp as we all thought – ‘oh God, here we go again.’ We looked destined to go in at half time 17-6 down. Given the way Saracens have been despatching teams this season perhaps it wouldn’t have been that surprising, but it seemed illogical given the way we’d started the game. What was needed was a spark, a moment of inspiration that would lift the team.
It arrived in the form of a bone-crunching tackle from new boy Rory Lamont as he shunted Ed Thrower into touch denying Saracens what looked like a nailed on try. From that moment, we played like a team inspired. Jones made a telling break down the centre shrugging off two defenders before off-loading to Ripol who backed himself to cross the line in the corner. Penney denied him the chance but you could see that determination to strike back burning fiercely.
Shortly before the break Lamont surged down the flank, brushing aside Powell and Thrower in a congested Saracens 22 before off-loading to Magnus Lund who found space and popped a pass to Wiggy who crossed smartly in the corner. Charlie hit the conversion from the narrowest of angles and when the whistle blew for the break, suddenly things seemed brighter. The mood lifted and even the dancing chicken at half time couldn’t deflate the upbeat, expectant mood.
The second half took me back. How long was it since I’d seen Sale throw the ball around with such purpose and intent? Well, it was that long ago that I can’t actually remember it. What made the difference? Our centres played deeper for the next forty minutes. Wiggy started to give better, quicker service to Charlie and he in turn was able to set up Thomas at second receiver who took the ball at pace and bulldozed his way deep into the Saracens 22. His nickname might be Bomber, but maybe he should change it to ‘Tank’ given the force of his tackling. Maybe he’s armour-plated after all. We definitely missed his influence at Gloucester last week. Not only can he defend with the best and chase down every high ball, but he can step off both feet and kick too. Granted his later penalty was a little wayward, but nobody’s perfect.
It was true edge of your seat rugby for the next thirty minutes – gripping, breathless stuff that was absolutely thrilling to watch as the lead changed hands regularly. Lamont capped a fabulous debut, latching on to a floated Hodgson pass and sliding in the corner. Charlie then converted from the touchline only to have the advantage snatched back as Jackson levelled the scores with a penalty.
Kiel picked up a loose ball on half way and fed the ball quickly to Hodgson who dummied De Kock and laid the ball on to Thomas. Somehow the ball finished up with Ripol on the wing and he managed to evade a series of challenges and a collapsed pile of bodies, squirming back inside into space. He may have been the smallest man on the field but his performance was towering. He passed the ball back inside to Thomas who slid in under the posts. Jackson then tried to poop the party atmosphere by nailing a drop goal and then sniping an easy, badly defended try under our posts.
With ten minutes to go it looked like we’d blown our chance, but the crowd could sense that it wasn’t over. Both sides were determined to go for broke and run the ball at every available opportunity. Sale have obviously adapted their style of play since Jos Baxendell came back to coach. Instead of the lacklustre pick and go show of last week, we tried to keep the ball alive and use whatever space was available. It was fantastic to watch, though more than a little nerve-racking. The ball was moved across both flanks and seemed to involve virtually every player in a blue shirt, before ‘Mr Utility’, Ben Foden squirmed his way under a despairing Saracens’ defence to plant the ball in the corner and secure our first try-bonus point of the season.
He may not like the description of ‘utility back’, nor the comparisons to Austin Healy, but he’s been a revelation at full back this season and seems to get better with each match. Maybe that’s where he’s destined to play: it’s not for me to say but he’s been far more involved when he’s played there and continues to rack up the tries.
The last 4 minutes lasted approximately 20, or so it seemed. You always sensed that there had to be one last throw of the dice. Saracens were not about to lie down and die and sure enough, back they came forcing a penalty for hands in at a ruck just outside our 22. Jackson had to kick for the corner as they were 4 points adrift at that point. He swears he didn’t kick the ball dead. From where I was sat it looked that way: I was every bit as sure his kick went dead as I was that Cueto’s foot didn’t hit the line in the World Cup Final. It appears I was only wrong once.
Perhaps it was just our time for a little luck: it did after all desert us last season, so maybe we were due for some. By the time the players had packed down for the final 5 metre scrum I’d given up on the edge of your seat position. It was getting uncomfortable and was highly likely to end in bodily injury, so I stood instead. Fortunately everyone else was of the same mind or I could’ve been in trouble.
A big scrum, possession secured and finally, finally the ball is cleared to touch. The referee, Mr Small, God bless his cotton socks, blows the whistle for time which is just as well as by this stage my pulse was racing quicker than Bryan Habana’s feet. To come away with 5 points is good: to come away with 5 points against a team like Saracens is an achievement. They didn’t deserve to lose, but I’m more than happy with the result. Here’s to many more.
So, what happens now and where do we go from here? The Guinness Premiership takes a back seat for a while, to be replaced by the EDF Cup and the European Challenge Cup. The EDF Cup I can take or leave as I see it as a distraction, but the European matches could be interesting and raise some very difficult selection issues. Should Thomas stand aside and be replaced by McAlister? Should Briggs’ fine form be overlooked with Bruno shoed into the front row? Will Foden be played at tight head in the next game? These are questions only a Director of Rugby can answer. However, perhaps that might be over-looking what is possibly the most important question we should all be asking. Will we have a Director of Rugby when the Premiership resumes?
Joe Williams
Otc 07 Cardiff v Sale
Cardiff Blues v Sale Sharks EDF Cup
Cardiff City Blues
As soon as you hit the M4 just east of Newport, you’re immediately confronted by a large sign highlighting a local tourist attraction called ‘The Big Pit’. Now I know the clue’s in the title and in no way do I wish to denigrate or criticise – certain local landmarks need to be preserved and memorialised, particularly when the coal industry in the area has been so cruelly and ruthlessly decimated. Alright the title may be unimaginative, even a little dull, but it is at least truthful and honest: I’m sure given time the marketing department at Edgeley Park could give it some spin and come up with something more hard-hitting.
Then again, what ‘Terrific 12’ and ‘Rugby to set your heart racing’ might gain in terms of impact, they lose in credibility. At least ‘The Big Pit’ says it like it is. All I can tell you is that after barely 30 minutes of Friday night’s EDF encounter with Cardiff Blues I could quite easily have thrown myself headlong down that hole such was my embarrassment at the standard of performance offered by Sale Sharks. Forget the idea of being “in it to win it” – it looked to all intents and purposes that we were merely in it to make up the numbers.
I suppose Sale were always likely to be up against it. Dai Young has managed to assemble possibly the strongest squad of players to represent the region in 20 years. They’ve got power, pace, ingenuity and ability in all departments and in Shanklin, Thomas, Rush and Sowden-Taylor they have world class players. I knew we were always likely to struggle given these circumstances, but I expected Sale to turn up and not be so utterly overwhelmed.
We were on the back foot from the first whistle. Cardiff like to throw the ball around and run moves even from deep in their own 22. They aren’t afraid to take risks, but these are always calculated ones. It didn’t help matters when our line out went to pot. Bruno’s returning presence certainly added to the strength of our set piece and gave us extra physicality in the loose, but sadly his throwing accuracy was wide of the mark. The only area in which we managed to exert any sort of domination was in the scrum. Our tight 5, particularly the Gallic front 3 of Faure, Bruno and Bourrust were dominant and in all fairness mullered the Cardiff front row, despite of the presence of British Lion Gethin Jenkins.
An early defensive scrum 5 metres in, just outside our 22, seemed to present little threat. It appeared obvious that we would try and wheel the Cardiff scrum and keep the blind-side shored up and covered. Bizarrely all our backline cover fanned out across the park to counter-act any Cardiff threat out wide. When the scrum was duly wheeled there was no Sale cover as the ball squirted out the side of the scrum and Deiniol Jones was able to peel away unopposed and charge towards the line. Everyone was static: it was as if no-one in a white shirt had spotted the danger. Ripol, Martens and Laharrague found themselves hopelessly out of position defending against a threat that never materialised.
I never played in the tight 5 myself: I wasn’t big or daft enough, but I do appreciate that most games are won and lost there. If I’d put in all that effort only to find that the opposition could stroll in unchallenged bar for a desperate rearguard lunge by Hodgson on Spice, then I would’ve been a tad miffed to say the least. Where was the communication? Where was the understanding? Do our backs not talk to the forwards? On the evidence of the first 5 minutes you’d doubt it.
The next 25 minutes were some of the most painful I’ve witnessed as a Sale fan. We sat back and attempted to absorb the pressure as wave after wave of Cardiff attacks rained down upon us. We never managed to nail any first tackles and consequently got stretched to the point where you sensed another Quins debacle. Poor old Charlie had to act as a secondary full-back, corner-flagging our goal line just to shore up the gaps. That’s not his job: he should be further up the park pulling the strings and launching counter-attacks.
All we could offer in return was a little up-your-jumper rugby and slow, slow ball. Any territorial and physical dominance we gained through our scrummaging was wasted by not being able to get the ball away from the break down and give our backline any chance to make amends. I know Lilo offers something different when he plays – strength and power, but a scrum half’s not much use if he’s lying at the bottom of a ruck. Perhaps someone should have a word and remind him he’s a 9, not a flanker. We were getting murdered. Had Charlie not pounced on yet another wayward ball in our in-goal area we would’ve been 12 points down within the first ten minutes!
Laharrague did take the chance to run the ball on the few occasions we were able to find any space, earning a penalty for obstruction which Thomas duly despatched. Cardiff inspired by the powerful running of Xavier Rush and the silky smooth skills of Tom Shanklin led the Sharks a merry dance, pulling the defence this way and that and creating glaring gaps to exploit. Instead of varying our options we decided to stick with the same chip and chase tactic. The Blues anticipated this and easily forced turnovers, kicking into the undefended space behind Sale’s advancing backline.
It wasn’t long before Cardiff were able to exploit this space. A fantastic run by Jamie Roberts tore Sale’s wayward defence apart leaving Gareth Thomas unmarked on the right flank. Normally you would think that if the cover was there in the form of Ripol, Lamont and Keil then this threat would’ve been easy to deal with, but Thomas simply straightened his run and took all 3 defenders out with absolute ease. It was starting to look embarrassing.
Two minutes later and history started to repeat itself. Sale’s scrum collapsed giving turnover ball to the Blues and before our tight 5 even got back to their feet, the ball was spun out wide and Lamont found himself isolated facing both Thomas and Roberts. Another try and the heads really started to drop. Five minutes after that Ben Blair scorched through the centre, side-stepping Thomas and shrugging off Keil. Even though Charlie managed to make the last-gasp tackle Blair was able to offload to the ever-present Rush who had the simplest of tasks and dabbed the ball down. 27 points to 3 and I felt like I wanted to go and hide in the darkest of dark places. You just hoped that a few teacups were thrown in the dressing room during the break and a few home truths pointed out.
Sale came out for the second period and immediately the change was evident. Mayor replaced Keil at centre adding some much needed pace. Before long Wigglesworth replaced Lilo at 9 and at long last the hard work of our forwards resulted in some quick ball for our backline. The Sharks looked like a team that had ambitions and they started to play the team in front of them, rather than just playing to a game-plan. This pressure paid dividends: Cardiff’s scrambled and frantic defending couldn’t cope.
Molitka was carded by Dave Pearson for killing the ball. In all fairness it was probably the only decision he gave us all night. He could, had he chosen to, have carded Tito at the same time for the same offence, but hey, you can’t upset the home fans, can you? It had happened throughout the first period but went unchallenged. You can normally count the games where the ref has given you a fair crack of the whip on the fingers of one hand. In Mr Pearson’s case I reckon you could count them on just the single digit. Granted we did win the Premiership Final, but that’s a while ago now.
With Cardiff down to 14, Sale should’ve been able to make more of the advantage and stretch the Blue’s defence. All we could manage unfortunately was a great deal of possession but little if any penetration. It didn’t help that the injuries started to rack up. Schofield was replaced by Hills, Maggie by Briggs and Bourrust by Evans. Still at least we began to show that we too can throw the ball around. It’s a shame we only ever seem to do this in the second period away from home and usually only when the game’s already lost.
Laharrague found his twinkling toes more during the second half and demonstrated why he can be such a threat going forward. After some good approach play and a few pick and go phases, he found himself with a yard of space and managed to sidestep Sidoli and offload to Lee Thomas who grounded the ball just by the posts and then converted his own try.
Steve Hanley replaced Ripol on the wing and we eventually finished up with a team many of us wish had started. It worked very well at Stradey Park 2 years before when we narrowly lost to the Scarlets and I can’t help thinking it might have been worth a punt this time too. Stan hasn’t really been given too many opportunities of late but showed as soon as he came on that when he’s fired up he can be up there with the best. His tackle on John Yapp showed he meant business.
Following a quick tap by Hanley for a Cardiff offside, Sale put together their best move of the match and showed when we move the ball wide at pace we can be devastating. He chipped and caught his own pass and fed the ball to Thomas. He powered the ball in field and offloaded to Briggsy who deftly tipped on the pass to Lamont. With a surge down the wing and strong hands, Lamont was able to handoff despairing Cardiff tackles and run the ball into the corner. It mattered not that Thomas couldn’t convert: the game was over anyway, but at least it showed what we are capable of doing.
In the final play of the night a pin-point cross field kick from Robinson found Tom James lurking on the wing. On any other night Lamont would’ve taken both man and ball, but for some reason he managed to get neither. Fair play to James though, he’d had a very productive night’s work. By the time the final opportunity came his way he looked like he done 12 rounds with Bruno – Frank that is. I’m surprised he could see where the try line was with that shiner.
So it ended 32 points to 15, and another defeat away from home. If you discount the victory over Calvisano which, though closer than anyone would’ve liked, was and should never really have been in question, we now haven’t won on the road for over a year. This is a cause of great concern to us all. I can’t understand why we can’t manage to win as we have a sufficiently strong squad. I know some will blame it on the World Cup and others on injury, but they’re just excuses as far as I can see. We have plenty of strength in depth.
Coxy, as well as showing spirit and determination finished up playing second row, number 8 and flanker in the one match and held is own in each position. Chris Day showed he has what it takes at this level as did Briggsy playing in the back row and Mike Hills on the open-side. Poor old Chris Mayor must wonder what it takes to get a start. He played with real determination and made a huge difference to our performance in the second half. These boys are the ones who have got us this far this season and, if it were up to me, these are the boys we should stick with. They’ve now got the experience and will be stronger for it. Let’s just hope they don’t have to wait until February and the 6 Nations before they can carry on their good work.
Joe Williams
Cardiff City Blues
As soon as you hit the M4 just east of Newport, you’re immediately confronted by a large sign highlighting a local tourist attraction called ‘The Big Pit’. Now I know the clue’s in the title and in no way do I wish to denigrate or criticise – certain local landmarks need to be preserved and memorialised, particularly when the coal industry in the area has been so cruelly and ruthlessly decimated. Alright the title may be unimaginative, even a little dull, but it is at least truthful and honest: I’m sure given time the marketing department at Edgeley Park could give it some spin and come up with something more hard-hitting.
Then again, what ‘Terrific 12’ and ‘Rugby to set your heart racing’ might gain in terms of impact, they lose in credibility. At least ‘The Big Pit’ says it like it is. All I can tell you is that after barely 30 minutes of Friday night’s EDF encounter with Cardiff Blues I could quite easily have thrown myself headlong down that hole such was my embarrassment at the standard of performance offered by Sale Sharks. Forget the idea of being “in it to win it” – it looked to all intents and purposes that we were merely in it to make up the numbers.
I suppose Sale were always likely to be up against it. Dai Young has managed to assemble possibly the strongest squad of players to represent the region in 20 years. They’ve got power, pace, ingenuity and ability in all departments and in Shanklin, Thomas, Rush and Sowden-Taylor they have world class players. I knew we were always likely to struggle given these circumstances, but I expected Sale to turn up and not be so utterly overwhelmed.
We were on the back foot from the first whistle. Cardiff like to throw the ball around and run moves even from deep in their own 22. They aren’t afraid to take risks, but these are always calculated ones. It didn’t help matters when our line out went to pot. Bruno’s returning presence certainly added to the strength of our set piece and gave us extra physicality in the loose, but sadly his throwing accuracy was wide of the mark. The only area in which we managed to exert any sort of domination was in the scrum. Our tight 5, particularly the Gallic front 3 of Faure, Bruno and Bourrust were dominant and in all fairness mullered the Cardiff front row, despite of the presence of British Lion Gethin Jenkins.
An early defensive scrum 5 metres in, just outside our 22, seemed to present little threat. It appeared obvious that we would try and wheel the Cardiff scrum and keep the blind-side shored up and covered. Bizarrely all our backline cover fanned out across the park to counter-act any Cardiff threat out wide. When the scrum was duly wheeled there was no Sale cover as the ball squirted out the side of the scrum and Deiniol Jones was able to peel away unopposed and charge towards the line. Everyone was static: it was as if no-one in a white shirt had spotted the danger. Ripol, Martens and Laharrague found themselves hopelessly out of position defending against a threat that never materialised.
I never played in the tight 5 myself: I wasn’t big or daft enough, but I do appreciate that most games are won and lost there. If I’d put in all that effort only to find that the opposition could stroll in unchallenged bar for a desperate rearguard lunge by Hodgson on Spice, then I would’ve been a tad miffed to say the least. Where was the communication? Where was the understanding? Do our backs not talk to the forwards? On the evidence of the first 5 minutes you’d doubt it.
The next 25 minutes were some of the most painful I’ve witnessed as a Sale fan. We sat back and attempted to absorb the pressure as wave after wave of Cardiff attacks rained down upon us. We never managed to nail any first tackles and consequently got stretched to the point where you sensed another Quins debacle. Poor old Charlie had to act as a secondary full-back, corner-flagging our goal line just to shore up the gaps. That’s not his job: he should be further up the park pulling the strings and launching counter-attacks.
All we could offer in return was a little up-your-jumper rugby and slow, slow ball. Any territorial and physical dominance we gained through our scrummaging was wasted by not being able to get the ball away from the break down and give our backline any chance to make amends. I know Lilo offers something different when he plays – strength and power, but a scrum half’s not much use if he’s lying at the bottom of a ruck. Perhaps someone should have a word and remind him he’s a 9, not a flanker. We were getting murdered. Had Charlie not pounced on yet another wayward ball in our in-goal area we would’ve been 12 points down within the first ten minutes!
Laharrague did take the chance to run the ball on the few occasions we were able to find any space, earning a penalty for obstruction which Thomas duly despatched. Cardiff inspired by the powerful running of Xavier Rush and the silky smooth skills of Tom Shanklin led the Sharks a merry dance, pulling the defence this way and that and creating glaring gaps to exploit. Instead of varying our options we decided to stick with the same chip and chase tactic. The Blues anticipated this and easily forced turnovers, kicking into the undefended space behind Sale’s advancing backline.
It wasn’t long before Cardiff were able to exploit this space. A fantastic run by Jamie Roberts tore Sale’s wayward defence apart leaving Gareth Thomas unmarked on the right flank. Normally you would think that if the cover was there in the form of Ripol, Lamont and Keil then this threat would’ve been easy to deal with, but Thomas simply straightened his run and took all 3 defenders out with absolute ease. It was starting to look embarrassing.
Two minutes later and history started to repeat itself. Sale’s scrum collapsed giving turnover ball to the Blues and before our tight 5 even got back to their feet, the ball was spun out wide and Lamont found himself isolated facing both Thomas and Roberts. Another try and the heads really started to drop. Five minutes after that Ben Blair scorched through the centre, side-stepping Thomas and shrugging off Keil. Even though Charlie managed to make the last-gasp tackle Blair was able to offload to the ever-present Rush who had the simplest of tasks and dabbed the ball down. 27 points to 3 and I felt like I wanted to go and hide in the darkest of dark places. You just hoped that a few teacups were thrown in the dressing room during the break and a few home truths pointed out.
Sale came out for the second period and immediately the change was evident. Mayor replaced Keil at centre adding some much needed pace. Before long Wigglesworth replaced Lilo at 9 and at long last the hard work of our forwards resulted in some quick ball for our backline. The Sharks looked like a team that had ambitions and they started to play the team in front of them, rather than just playing to a game-plan. This pressure paid dividends: Cardiff’s scrambled and frantic defending couldn’t cope.
Molitka was carded by Dave Pearson for killing the ball. In all fairness it was probably the only decision he gave us all night. He could, had he chosen to, have carded Tito at the same time for the same offence, but hey, you can’t upset the home fans, can you? It had happened throughout the first period but went unchallenged. You can normally count the games where the ref has given you a fair crack of the whip on the fingers of one hand. In Mr Pearson’s case I reckon you could count them on just the single digit. Granted we did win the Premiership Final, but that’s a while ago now.
With Cardiff down to 14, Sale should’ve been able to make more of the advantage and stretch the Blue’s defence. All we could manage unfortunately was a great deal of possession but little if any penetration. It didn’t help that the injuries started to rack up. Schofield was replaced by Hills, Maggie by Briggs and Bourrust by Evans. Still at least we began to show that we too can throw the ball around. It’s a shame we only ever seem to do this in the second period away from home and usually only when the game’s already lost.
Laharrague found his twinkling toes more during the second half and demonstrated why he can be such a threat going forward. After some good approach play and a few pick and go phases, he found himself with a yard of space and managed to sidestep Sidoli and offload to Lee Thomas who grounded the ball just by the posts and then converted his own try.
Steve Hanley replaced Ripol on the wing and we eventually finished up with a team many of us wish had started. It worked very well at Stradey Park 2 years before when we narrowly lost to the Scarlets and I can’t help thinking it might have been worth a punt this time too. Stan hasn’t really been given too many opportunities of late but showed as soon as he came on that when he’s fired up he can be up there with the best. His tackle on John Yapp showed he meant business.
Following a quick tap by Hanley for a Cardiff offside, Sale put together their best move of the match and showed when we move the ball wide at pace we can be devastating. He chipped and caught his own pass and fed the ball to Thomas. He powered the ball in field and offloaded to Briggsy who deftly tipped on the pass to Lamont. With a surge down the wing and strong hands, Lamont was able to handoff despairing Cardiff tackles and run the ball into the corner. It mattered not that Thomas couldn’t convert: the game was over anyway, but at least it showed what we are capable of doing.
In the final play of the night a pin-point cross field kick from Robinson found Tom James lurking on the wing. On any other night Lamont would’ve taken both man and ball, but for some reason he managed to get neither. Fair play to James though, he’d had a very productive night’s work. By the time the final opportunity came his way he looked like he done 12 rounds with Bruno – Frank that is. I’m surprised he could see where the try line was with that shiner.
So it ended 32 points to 15, and another defeat away from home. If you discount the victory over Calvisano which, though closer than anyone would’ve liked, was and should never really have been in question, we now haven’t won on the road for over a year. This is a cause of great concern to us all. I can’t understand why we can’t manage to win as we have a sufficiently strong squad. I know some will blame it on the World Cup and others on injury, but they’re just excuses as far as I can see. We have plenty of strength in depth.
Coxy, as well as showing spirit and determination finished up playing second row, number 8 and flanker in the one match and held is own in each position. Chris Day showed he has what it takes at this level as did Briggsy playing in the back row and Mike Hills on the open-side. Poor old Chris Mayor must wonder what it takes to get a start. He played with real determination and made a huge difference to our performance in the second half. These boys are the ones who have got us this far this season and, if it were up to me, these are the boys we should stick with. They’ve now got the experience and will be stronger for it. Let’s just hope they don’t have to wait until February and the 6 Nations before they can carry on their good work.
Joe Williams
Nov 07 Sale v Bath
Sale Sharks v Bath EDF Cup
And The People All Said , Sit Down!
How long does it take for an official to penalise persistent offending at the scrum, ruck and maul? How many infringements have to be committed before a yellow card is produced? On the evidence of Friday, as many as you can shake a stick at, and 78 minutes – about the same time as it takes the average ample-girthed, cologne-scented Corpulent Jolly to meander to his seat carrying enough Guinness to sink a battle ship. Sadly I left Edgeley Park asking myself these questions after Friday’s EDF encounter with Bath instead of analysing the game of rugby I’d just witnessed.
Why can’t a referee take control of a game in the early stages and give firm, definitive warnings about conduct and the consequences of infringement and why do certain people bother attending games when it’s patently obvious they’ve absolutely no interest in anything but enjoying a freebie? Ok, perhaps the last question is rhetorical, but action needs to be taken to stop the behaviour of those clearly wearing beer goggles from interfering with and spoiling the enjoyment of those who pay for the privilege of watching a rugby match. As for the officials, well, one can only hope that their performances are analysed and the error of their ways pointed out to them.
The game itself, or the bits of it I managed to see, started off briskly enough with Sale producing fast-paced, expansive rugby. Thankfully the early go-slow from Cardiff wasn’t repeated. Charlie and Wiggy took the game by the scruff of the neck from the off and got the ball out wide quickly at every available opportunity. Our forwards pressurised at each ruck and maul. The plan paid dividends after just 6 minutes when Bath were penalised for offside. Instead of taking the points Charlie signalled his intent and kicked for the corner. Considering Bath’s renowned strength at the line out, this was a bold move, but then again, when you’ve got Corcho and Nacho back in your line-out, I guess it’s worth a punt. It paid dividends as Sale were able to secure their ball and drive back infield, allowing Charlie to drop a kick and get the scoreboard ticking.
Hills latched on to a popped pass form Wiggy minutes later and broke through the Bath defence to feed the ball to Lawson. Stan was unmarked and arriving at pace on the flank and a simple pass was all it would’ve taken to put him in the clear. The pass duly was given but sadly it was forward. Despite the protests of the crowd I reckon the ref called that one correctly from what I could see, though more stragglers from the hospitality bun-fight tried their best to make sure the view was obscured. I’m sure the price of the commodities market is important. Well, probably, but is it really necessary to stand up and bark down your mobile about it during the match. Here’s a tip lads – save it for the office and sit down.
Continued Sale pressure produced another penalty six minutes later as Bath were pinged for collapsing the scrum. Lorne Ward was having a torrid night trying to hold his own against an aggressive and fired-up Sheridan. Hodgson despatched the penalty confidently and things looked promising. Even though Bath have won their last five games, they were made to look ordinary by Sale’s high pressure, fast-paced game plan. Granted they were missing the likes of Grewcock, Stevens, Claassens, Short and Barnes, but still, I expected more. Bath were on the back foot and their scrum was getting mullered. The Lobbe brothers, Hills and Lawson were all getting stuck in and pressurising their defensive line, forcing mistakes and handling errors.
Three minutes later and the referee blew for yet another penalty: this time against Ward again for not binding at the scrum. Actually he looked like he was holding on for dear life to stop Big Ted getting any sort of momentum. I expected the ref to have serious words with Borthwick about the continued infringements, but obviously expected too much. Still 9 nil up and definitely in the ascendancy – perhaps I was just being pernickety.
However Sale Sharks never do anything the easy way and instead of persisting with the plan that was making Bath stutter, we decided to sit back and take our foot off the gas, inviting them on. Our defence in fairness was resolute. Stan, Foden and Mayor put themselves about. Stan’s physical presence completely nullified Banahan’s game, which was surprising given he came with such a high reputation.
Inevitably though, holding such a high defensive line was likely to lead to giving away a penalty. Sale conceded the first of 3 lineout turnovers as Borthwick stole the ball. Stephenson and Crockett attacked from deep targeting Charlie’s 10 channel, as so many other teams have done this season. He definitely needs more protection. Fair dos, he can tackle with the best of them but he should be dictating the game not holding the fort. Berne, faced with few attacking options, chose the cross-field ball instead. Sale’s over-eager defence was caught offside and Berne was able to reduce the deficit from the penalty.
The introduction of Abendanon in some ways turned the game for Sale. He replaced Ian Davey but went to full back instead, swapping places with Stephenson. Abendanon is an attack-minded player who likes to take the ball forward and run from deep, but he doesn’t always play on the same wavelength as his team mates and can find himself isolated. One of his attacking flurries broke down when he tried to run the ball from his own 22 and was brought down and penalised for holding on. From the resulting scrum Bath were penalised once more – this time for boring. Hodgson’s imperious kick re-established the 9 point lead and at last the crowd began to find its voice.
Two minutes before half time came the moment of the match. Berne under pressure from Hills failed to find touch with his clearance kick and the ball dropped kindly to Hanley. Bath’s defensive line backed off, giving Stan the chance to counter-attack. Given his size and speed I suppose they could be forgiven – I’d probably have backed off too if I saw him running at me at full pelt! He took the ball into their half and chipped over the static defensive line, catching the ball behind them to feed the advancing Chris Bell. He outpaced Berne and easily held off Cheeseman to plant the ball in the corner. Hodgson duly converted with another magnificent kick. The half time whistle blew with the score at 19 points to 3 and everything looked rosy.
Sale continued the same high pressure tactic after the break but rustiness, handling errors and knock-ons neutralised all the effective work of Hills, Tait and Corcho in the loose. Three minutes into the half and Bath were penalised for holding on. Flatman was pinged at the resulting scrum for boring and Hodgson converted with another beauty. Finally the referee took Borthwick to one side and had what I hoped were stern words as the penalty count was becoming a bit of a joke. The Jollies arrived back with another barrel of Guinness and settled down for deep and meaningful ‘conversation’ about mortgages and pension annuities. It’s a pity the referee doesn’t have the ability to yellow card some members of the crowd…
A Sharks offside decision on half way gave Berne the chance to kick for goal, but unsurprisingly given the score, he opted to kick for the corner. Borthwick was able to claim the ball with an excellent take and feed it back to Ward who was driven over by the posts. Berne converted and brought the score back to 22 -10. In spite of this rally though, you didn’t expect a comeback. There’s no doubt that Sale weren’t at the top of their game but you always sensed they had the measure of Bath and had enough in reserve should it be needed. Sale managed several half breaks and Charlie almost burst through after an intelligent interception by Hills, but the final pass just wasn’t quite right. That was pretty much the story of the night – almost but not quite. On another day everything might’ve come off, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles.
Hodgson converted another penalty before being replaced by Martens – Wiggy moved to fly half. From then on it was only ever a question of seeing out the game. Sale were comfortable but there was a lack of urgency and adventure. The only talking points were why Cox’s try was disallowed and had a side ever fielded 4 scrum halfs before? The answer to the first apparently was that he came through the centre of the maul – well, not from where I was sitting. The second answer I don’t know, but I would doubt it’s ever happened before.
After the game I felt obliged to speak to the people responsible for causing so many disruptions. I asked them if they’d enjoyed the game. They all assured me the experience had been memorable- the food, the drink and the entertainment. They’d enjoyed it so much that they intended to come back again. And the rugby, I asked? I was met with a vacuous look and all they could muster was ‘yeah right.’ I left getting the sense that even though the wheel might still be turning, the hamster was probably dead.
So another home win and still a chance to qualify for the semi-final of the EDF Cup. It wasn’t our best performance by a long way and the fact that our internationals hadn’t trained with the squad for a long time showed through clearly. To qualify we must at the least beat Leicester Tigers at Welford Road, preferably with a bonus point and hope the other results go our way. That’s easy enough then, given our Jekyll and Hyde performances on the road. We don’t travel well at the moment and our recent away form doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. Nevertheless I’ll go in hope. All I ask is that the authorities at Welford Road let me know where the Corpulents sit so that I can find another spot on the opposite side of the ground.
Joe Williams
And The People All Said , Sit Down!
How long does it take for an official to penalise persistent offending at the scrum, ruck and maul? How many infringements have to be committed before a yellow card is produced? On the evidence of Friday, as many as you can shake a stick at, and 78 minutes – about the same time as it takes the average ample-girthed, cologne-scented Corpulent Jolly to meander to his seat carrying enough Guinness to sink a battle ship. Sadly I left Edgeley Park asking myself these questions after Friday’s EDF encounter with Bath instead of analysing the game of rugby I’d just witnessed.
Why can’t a referee take control of a game in the early stages and give firm, definitive warnings about conduct and the consequences of infringement and why do certain people bother attending games when it’s patently obvious they’ve absolutely no interest in anything but enjoying a freebie? Ok, perhaps the last question is rhetorical, but action needs to be taken to stop the behaviour of those clearly wearing beer goggles from interfering with and spoiling the enjoyment of those who pay for the privilege of watching a rugby match. As for the officials, well, one can only hope that their performances are analysed and the error of their ways pointed out to them.
The game itself, or the bits of it I managed to see, started off briskly enough with Sale producing fast-paced, expansive rugby. Thankfully the early go-slow from Cardiff wasn’t repeated. Charlie and Wiggy took the game by the scruff of the neck from the off and got the ball out wide quickly at every available opportunity. Our forwards pressurised at each ruck and maul. The plan paid dividends after just 6 minutes when Bath were penalised for offside. Instead of taking the points Charlie signalled his intent and kicked for the corner. Considering Bath’s renowned strength at the line out, this was a bold move, but then again, when you’ve got Corcho and Nacho back in your line-out, I guess it’s worth a punt. It paid dividends as Sale were able to secure their ball and drive back infield, allowing Charlie to drop a kick and get the scoreboard ticking.
Hills latched on to a popped pass form Wiggy minutes later and broke through the Bath defence to feed the ball to Lawson. Stan was unmarked and arriving at pace on the flank and a simple pass was all it would’ve taken to put him in the clear. The pass duly was given but sadly it was forward. Despite the protests of the crowd I reckon the ref called that one correctly from what I could see, though more stragglers from the hospitality bun-fight tried their best to make sure the view was obscured. I’m sure the price of the commodities market is important. Well, probably, but is it really necessary to stand up and bark down your mobile about it during the match. Here’s a tip lads – save it for the office and sit down.
Continued Sale pressure produced another penalty six minutes later as Bath were pinged for collapsing the scrum. Lorne Ward was having a torrid night trying to hold his own against an aggressive and fired-up Sheridan. Hodgson despatched the penalty confidently and things looked promising. Even though Bath have won their last five games, they were made to look ordinary by Sale’s high pressure, fast-paced game plan. Granted they were missing the likes of Grewcock, Stevens, Claassens, Short and Barnes, but still, I expected more. Bath were on the back foot and their scrum was getting mullered. The Lobbe brothers, Hills and Lawson were all getting stuck in and pressurising their defensive line, forcing mistakes and handling errors.
Three minutes later and the referee blew for yet another penalty: this time against Ward again for not binding at the scrum. Actually he looked like he was holding on for dear life to stop Big Ted getting any sort of momentum. I expected the ref to have serious words with Borthwick about the continued infringements, but obviously expected too much. Still 9 nil up and definitely in the ascendancy – perhaps I was just being pernickety.
However Sale Sharks never do anything the easy way and instead of persisting with the plan that was making Bath stutter, we decided to sit back and take our foot off the gas, inviting them on. Our defence in fairness was resolute. Stan, Foden and Mayor put themselves about. Stan’s physical presence completely nullified Banahan’s game, which was surprising given he came with such a high reputation.
Inevitably though, holding such a high defensive line was likely to lead to giving away a penalty. Sale conceded the first of 3 lineout turnovers as Borthwick stole the ball. Stephenson and Crockett attacked from deep targeting Charlie’s 10 channel, as so many other teams have done this season. He definitely needs more protection. Fair dos, he can tackle with the best of them but he should be dictating the game not holding the fort. Berne, faced with few attacking options, chose the cross-field ball instead. Sale’s over-eager defence was caught offside and Berne was able to reduce the deficit from the penalty.
The introduction of Abendanon in some ways turned the game for Sale. He replaced Ian Davey but went to full back instead, swapping places with Stephenson. Abendanon is an attack-minded player who likes to take the ball forward and run from deep, but he doesn’t always play on the same wavelength as his team mates and can find himself isolated. One of his attacking flurries broke down when he tried to run the ball from his own 22 and was brought down and penalised for holding on. From the resulting scrum Bath were penalised once more – this time for boring. Hodgson’s imperious kick re-established the 9 point lead and at last the crowd began to find its voice.
Two minutes before half time came the moment of the match. Berne under pressure from Hills failed to find touch with his clearance kick and the ball dropped kindly to Hanley. Bath’s defensive line backed off, giving Stan the chance to counter-attack. Given his size and speed I suppose they could be forgiven – I’d probably have backed off too if I saw him running at me at full pelt! He took the ball into their half and chipped over the static defensive line, catching the ball behind them to feed the advancing Chris Bell. He outpaced Berne and easily held off Cheeseman to plant the ball in the corner. Hodgson duly converted with another magnificent kick. The half time whistle blew with the score at 19 points to 3 and everything looked rosy.
Sale continued the same high pressure tactic after the break but rustiness, handling errors and knock-ons neutralised all the effective work of Hills, Tait and Corcho in the loose. Three minutes into the half and Bath were penalised for holding on. Flatman was pinged at the resulting scrum for boring and Hodgson converted with another beauty. Finally the referee took Borthwick to one side and had what I hoped were stern words as the penalty count was becoming a bit of a joke. The Jollies arrived back with another barrel of Guinness and settled down for deep and meaningful ‘conversation’ about mortgages and pension annuities. It’s a pity the referee doesn’t have the ability to yellow card some members of the crowd…
A Sharks offside decision on half way gave Berne the chance to kick for goal, but unsurprisingly given the score, he opted to kick for the corner. Borthwick was able to claim the ball with an excellent take and feed it back to Ward who was driven over by the posts. Berne converted and brought the score back to 22 -10. In spite of this rally though, you didn’t expect a comeback. There’s no doubt that Sale weren’t at the top of their game but you always sensed they had the measure of Bath and had enough in reserve should it be needed. Sale managed several half breaks and Charlie almost burst through after an intelligent interception by Hills, but the final pass just wasn’t quite right. That was pretty much the story of the night – almost but not quite. On another day everything might’ve come off, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles.
Hodgson converted another penalty before being replaced by Martens – Wiggy moved to fly half. From then on it was only ever a question of seeing out the game. Sale were comfortable but there was a lack of urgency and adventure. The only talking points were why Cox’s try was disallowed and had a side ever fielded 4 scrum halfs before? The answer to the first apparently was that he came through the centre of the maul – well, not from where I was sitting. The second answer I don’t know, but I would doubt it’s ever happened before.
After the game I felt obliged to speak to the people responsible for causing so many disruptions. I asked them if they’d enjoyed the game. They all assured me the experience had been memorable- the food, the drink and the entertainment. They’d enjoyed it so much that they intended to come back again. And the rugby, I asked? I was met with a vacuous look and all they could muster was ‘yeah right.’ I left getting the sense that even though the wheel might still be turning, the hamster was probably dead.
So another home win and still a chance to qualify for the semi-final of the EDF Cup. It wasn’t our best performance by a long way and the fact that our internationals hadn’t trained with the squad for a long time showed through clearly. To qualify we must at the least beat Leicester Tigers at Welford Road, preferably with a bonus point and hope the other results go our way. That’s easy enough then, given our Jekyll and Hyde performances on the road. We don’t travel well at the moment and our recent away form doesn’t exactly inspire confidence. Nevertheless I’ll go in hope. All I ask is that the authorities at Welford Road let me know where the Corpulents sit so that I can find another spot on the opposite side of the ground.
Joe Williams
Nov 07 Sale v Montpellier
Sale Sharks v Montpellier
A Rush and a Push and the ground we stand on, is ours!
On paper it should’ve been an easy night. If you based your predictions about Thursday’s match on statistics, then you would’ve thought Sale were in for an easy ride, taking on a team that hadn’t won on the road for 35 matches. That’s not how it turned out though, even if the score would suggest otherwise. Montpellier are a big, bristling side who play an aggressive, in-your-face kind of rugby. They came to front up to the physical challenge that they knew Sale would offer and for 40 edgy minutes they managed to do just that, keeping the lid on things, harrying and pressing and forcing unnecessary turn-overs. If it hadn’t been for a moment of magic from Charlie Hodgson, who’s to say it wouldn’t have ended differently.
The weather was obviously going to play a significant part in the game. The swirling wind made life very uncomfortable for both back lines. Sale played into this wind for the first half and Hodgson set his cards out from the off, launching successive bombs high up above stand height which hung in the night air and caused panic among the Hérault backline. Montpellier responded in kind and McHugh, Sarraméa and Trinh-Duc took every opportunity to belt the ball back at the Sharks, happy in the knowledge that their line out was functioning much better than the home side’s. Few can ever doubt the effectiveness of Bruno’s power-game in the loose, but his accuracy at the set piece can be a little hit and miss even when the wind isn’t howling.
Although Sale showed promise in the first thirty minutes, the Héraults continually frustrated, forcing countless turn-overs at the breakdown. Our pack was on top from the start, turning possession against the head as early as the third minute. Then again, with the likes of Sheridan, Bruno, the Lobbe brothers, White and Chabal, you’d expect that. Where we did struggle however, was at the breakdown. It was almost as if we were trying to force the opportunities, rather than play with a little patience. On numerous occasions we had numbers out wide and clear cut chances to score, but poor execution and basic skill errors cost us.
Handling errors aside though, Montpellier are no slouches. They’ve shown that on their day they can beat good sides; they had sufficient talent and strength to do for Perpignan and they had a right old go at trying to do the same to Sale. Julien Picamoles, the young French International, came on early, replacing Fulgence Ouedraogo, and put himself about, causing untold problems for the Sharks on the fringes and at rucks.
For all the territorial dominance, all Sale could muster in the first 25 minutes were 2 penalties which Charlie despatched with unerring accuracy in spite of the wind. There seemed to be no way to break through the wall of white shirts. Montpellier responded with 2 of their own when Sheridan and Chabal were both pinged for playing the ball whilst on the floor. Big men tend to attract the ref’s attention. It’s probably best to let the smaller, less easily spotted guys do the dirty business at rucks and breakdowns.
Sale eventually found their cutting edge just before the half hour mark when a move orchestrated by Charlie appeared to have resulted in the first try of the night. Hodgson fed the ball to Cueto who raced down the flank, taking McHugh and Sarraméa with him, before straightening and passing to Elvis. The ball eventually found its way to Foden on the other flank and it seemed he’d managed to dot the ball down. The Italian referee wasn’t convinced though and asked for the TMO’s guidance. Talk about déjà vu: hadn’t we been there before with the try that never was?
Should he have cut back inside like Billy Whizz would probably have done, or should he have passed to Stan instead? Who knows? The fact is he didn’t for whatever reason and no try was given. On another day the consequences could’ve been costly. Fortunately as it turned out, on this particular day it didn’t matter. Anyway, give the lad a break. How long has he been a full back? This was only his eighth start in that role. He may be inexperienced and have things to learn in the new position, like trying not to let the ball bounce but he’s been a revelation and has more than likely made the position his own.
The decision rankled the young full back but seemed to lift the team. Sale upped the tempo after that and started to offload the ball quicker and to better effect. Another penalty came Sale’s way in the 38th minute and Hodgson slotted home from wide on the left wing. From the restart Montpellier squandered possession with a loose pass from Frikkie Welsh which Charlie intercepted. The cruciate injuries obviously haven’t affected his pace. He sprinted clear and interlinked with both Cueto and Corcho before dabbing the ball down by the posts. It was a scintillating try – deft handling, subtle pop passes and clever interplay. It had Jos Baxendell’s signature written all over it.
By the time the whistle blew for the break, the Héraults looked a beaten team. Their heads went down and their shoulders slumped. They probably felt hard done by and on the basis of their performance they would’ve been justified. Sale were the better side and had the lion’s share of possession but Montpellier gave as good as they got. They could’ve reached half time with the score at 6 all, and probably should have but for a moment of brilliance from Hodgson. It knocked the stuffing out of them and they never looked likely to bounce back after that.
Sale on the other hand took to the field a couple of inches taller with their shoulders back and heads up, and managed to produce one of the best displays of running, incisive and devastating rugby seen at Edgeley Park. I doubt many teams could’ve coped. It was impossible to defend against them. The fact is, no team, however good, can defend against attacks that come from every part of the park and every position. If you don’t know where the threat lies, you can’t defend against it.
We’ve shown glimpses this season of what we might be capable of achieving. We’ve got a very strong squad, a set of forwards as good as any in the Premiership, if not better and a backline that could make even the purists purr – and that’s before McAlister arrives. The problem has been that all the bits have never worked at the same time. What we witnessed on Thursday was 40 minutes of rugby in which the forwards and the backs played as one, like a well-oiled machine and it was devastating. Some will no doubt say, yeah but by that time Montpellier were a beaten team. That may well be true but, you can only play the team in front of you.
Tries by Chabal, Hanley, Mayor and a brace by Wiggy put a fine gloss on the night and brought us the bonus point with style. Even the ref got into the party spirit, doing the splits after Seabass’ try: give him some pom poms and sign him up for ‘Independance.’ It’s always great to put a team away in style and score for fun, but that wasn’t the thing that pleased me most. It was the way we played that lifted my spirits. Our pack dominated at the set piece. We approached rucks quicker and cleaned them out ruthlessly – no prisoners were taken and good clean ball was presented to Wiggy. Our first phase ball started to fizz and our backs ran good lines both with and without the ball, pulling the opposition all over the park. Coxy got to grips with the line out and it started to function and set quicker and more effectively. Schoey showed he’s lost none of his fighting spirit, though perhaps as a captain it’s incumbent on him to lead by example rather than with a right hook….
Both Stan and Cuets showed what class acts they can be when taking the ball at speed. In the right circumstances, they’re unstoppable. As for Charlie, well, what can you say that hasn’t already been said? When he’s not called on to plug the holes at the back as he has been some times this season, then he’s one of the finest stand offs in world rugby: few can live with him. His open play, distribution and rugby brain are outstanding and his try was sublime. Unfortunately from a Sale perspective I’m sure Brian Ashton already has him pencilled in for the Six Nations.
In spite of that, I still feel the try of the night, to my mind at least, was Steve Hanley’s. Old Stan the man has had a rotten time over the last couple of years, what with injuries and a loss of form. When he skipped through on to the pop pass from Lee Thomas and realised he was clear, it was enough to make my heart smile. He’s been so close to scoring a few times this season but the lucky break has never come his way. The delight on his face and the little dance before he slid across the line said it all – I’m back, I’m still the Premiership’s leading try scorer and I’m not going to let anyone take that off me. You could tell how much it meant to him and to all the rest of the lads. Let’s hope there’s many more to come.
So, now it’s off to Italy to take on Petrarca. Will there be a match in the light of the Italian Sports Minister’s announcement that all sports will be suspended because of the tragic shooting of a fan at a football match? It’s impossible to say. I’m going anyway as it’s all booked and paid for. If we do get to see some rugby, I hope we carry on in the same manner and take the game to the opposition and play with our heads up. On paper we should win. The statistics are definitely on our side. Hold on, haven’t we been here before? Oh that’s right, the lads from the Hérault were going to be a pushover on paper I seem to recall. I think that if 40 edgy and nervy minutes of rugby teaches you anything, it’s that statistics are not to be trusted.
Joe Williams
A Rush and a Push and the ground we stand on, is ours!
On paper it should’ve been an easy night. If you based your predictions about Thursday’s match on statistics, then you would’ve thought Sale were in for an easy ride, taking on a team that hadn’t won on the road for 35 matches. That’s not how it turned out though, even if the score would suggest otherwise. Montpellier are a big, bristling side who play an aggressive, in-your-face kind of rugby. They came to front up to the physical challenge that they knew Sale would offer and for 40 edgy minutes they managed to do just that, keeping the lid on things, harrying and pressing and forcing unnecessary turn-overs. If it hadn’t been for a moment of magic from Charlie Hodgson, who’s to say it wouldn’t have ended differently.
The weather was obviously going to play a significant part in the game. The swirling wind made life very uncomfortable for both back lines. Sale played into this wind for the first half and Hodgson set his cards out from the off, launching successive bombs high up above stand height which hung in the night air and caused panic among the Hérault backline. Montpellier responded in kind and McHugh, Sarraméa and Trinh-Duc took every opportunity to belt the ball back at the Sharks, happy in the knowledge that their line out was functioning much better than the home side’s. Few can ever doubt the effectiveness of Bruno’s power-game in the loose, but his accuracy at the set piece can be a little hit and miss even when the wind isn’t howling.
Although Sale showed promise in the first thirty minutes, the Héraults continually frustrated, forcing countless turn-overs at the breakdown. Our pack was on top from the start, turning possession against the head as early as the third minute. Then again, with the likes of Sheridan, Bruno, the Lobbe brothers, White and Chabal, you’d expect that. Where we did struggle however, was at the breakdown. It was almost as if we were trying to force the opportunities, rather than play with a little patience. On numerous occasions we had numbers out wide and clear cut chances to score, but poor execution and basic skill errors cost us.
Handling errors aside though, Montpellier are no slouches. They’ve shown that on their day they can beat good sides; they had sufficient talent and strength to do for Perpignan and they had a right old go at trying to do the same to Sale. Julien Picamoles, the young French International, came on early, replacing Fulgence Ouedraogo, and put himself about, causing untold problems for the Sharks on the fringes and at rucks.
For all the territorial dominance, all Sale could muster in the first 25 minutes were 2 penalties which Charlie despatched with unerring accuracy in spite of the wind. There seemed to be no way to break through the wall of white shirts. Montpellier responded with 2 of their own when Sheridan and Chabal were both pinged for playing the ball whilst on the floor. Big men tend to attract the ref’s attention. It’s probably best to let the smaller, less easily spotted guys do the dirty business at rucks and breakdowns.
Sale eventually found their cutting edge just before the half hour mark when a move orchestrated by Charlie appeared to have resulted in the first try of the night. Hodgson fed the ball to Cueto who raced down the flank, taking McHugh and Sarraméa with him, before straightening and passing to Elvis. The ball eventually found its way to Foden on the other flank and it seemed he’d managed to dot the ball down. The Italian referee wasn’t convinced though and asked for the TMO’s guidance. Talk about déjà vu: hadn’t we been there before with the try that never was?
Should he have cut back inside like Billy Whizz would probably have done, or should he have passed to Stan instead? Who knows? The fact is he didn’t for whatever reason and no try was given. On another day the consequences could’ve been costly. Fortunately as it turned out, on this particular day it didn’t matter. Anyway, give the lad a break. How long has he been a full back? This was only his eighth start in that role. He may be inexperienced and have things to learn in the new position, like trying not to let the ball bounce but he’s been a revelation and has more than likely made the position his own.
The decision rankled the young full back but seemed to lift the team. Sale upped the tempo after that and started to offload the ball quicker and to better effect. Another penalty came Sale’s way in the 38th minute and Hodgson slotted home from wide on the left wing. From the restart Montpellier squandered possession with a loose pass from Frikkie Welsh which Charlie intercepted. The cruciate injuries obviously haven’t affected his pace. He sprinted clear and interlinked with both Cueto and Corcho before dabbing the ball down by the posts. It was a scintillating try – deft handling, subtle pop passes and clever interplay. It had Jos Baxendell’s signature written all over it.
By the time the whistle blew for the break, the Héraults looked a beaten team. Their heads went down and their shoulders slumped. They probably felt hard done by and on the basis of their performance they would’ve been justified. Sale were the better side and had the lion’s share of possession but Montpellier gave as good as they got. They could’ve reached half time with the score at 6 all, and probably should have but for a moment of brilliance from Hodgson. It knocked the stuffing out of them and they never looked likely to bounce back after that.
Sale on the other hand took to the field a couple of inches taller with their shoulders back and heads up, and managed to produce one of the best displays of running, incisive and devastating rugby seen at Edgeley Park. I doubt many teams could’ve coped. It was impossible to defend against them. The fact is, no team, however good, can defend against attacks that come from every part of the park and every position. If you don’t know where the threat lies, you can’t defend against it.
We’ve shown glimpses this season of what we might be capable of achieving. We’ve got a very strong squad, a set of forwards as good as any in the Premiership, if not better and a backline that could make even the purists purr – and that’s before McAlister arrives. The problem has been that all the bits have never worked at the same time. What we witnessed on Thursday was 40 minutes of rugby in which the forwards and the backs played as one, like a well-oiled machine and it was devastating. Some will no doubt say, yeah but by that time Montpellier were a beaten team. That may well be true but, you can only play the team in front of you.
Tries by Chabal, Hanley, Mayor and a brace by Wiggy put a fine gloss on the night and brought us the bonus point with style. Even the ref got into the party spirit, doing the splits after Seabass’ try: give him some pom poms and sign him up for ‘Independance.’ It’s always great to put a team away in style and score for fun, but that wasn’t the thing that pleased me most. It was the way we played that lifted my spirits. Our pack dominated at the set piece. We approached rucks quicker and cleaned them out ruthlessly – no prisoners were taken and good clean ball was presented to Wiggy. Our first phase ball started to fizz and our backs ran good lines both with and without the ball, pulling the opposition all over the park. Coxy got to grips with the line out and it started to function and set quicker and more effectively. Schoey showed he’s lost none of his fighting spirit, though perhaps as a captain it’s incumbent on him to lead by example rather than with a right hook….
Both Stan and Cuets showed what class acts they can be when taking the ball at speed. In the right circumstances, they’re unstoppable. As for Charlie, well, what can you say that hasn’t already been said? When he’s not called on to plug the holes at the back as he has been some times this season, then he’s one of the finest stand offs in world rugby: few can live with him. His open play, distribution and rugby brain are outstanding and his try was sublime. Unfortunately from a Sale perspective I’m sure Brian Ashton already has him pencilled in for the Six Nations.
In spite of that, I still feel the try of the night, to my mind at least, was Steve Hanley’s. Old Stan the man has had a rotten time over the last couple of years, what with injuries and a loss of form. When he skipped through on to the pop pass from Lee Thomas and realised he was clear, it was enough to make my heart smile. He’s been so close to scoring a few times this season but the lucky break has never come his way. The delight on his face and the little dance before he slid across the line said it all – I’m back, I’m still the Premiership’s leading try scorer and I’m not going to let anyone take that off me. You could tell how much it meant to him and to all the rest of the lads. Let’s hope there’s many more to come.
So, now it’s off to Italy to take on Petrarca. Will there be a match in the light of the Italian Sports Minister’s announcement that all sports will be suspended because of the tragic shooting of a fan at a football match? It’s impossible to say. I’m going anyway as it’s all booked and paid for. If we do get to see some rugby, I hope we carry on in the same manner and take the game to the opposition and play with our heads up. On paper we should win. The statistics are definitely on our side. Hold on, haven’t we been here before? Oh that’s right, the lads from the Hérault were going to be a pushover on paper I seem to recall. I think that if 40 edgy and nervy minutes of rugby teaches you anything, it’s that statistics are not to be trusted.
Joe Williams
Nov 07 Petrarca v Sale
Carrera Petrarca v Sale Sharks
Rock and-er Roll, baby!
If I could pick any country in the world to live in, and money was no object, then Italy would always get my vote. Whether you base your opinions upon the primacy of the cuisine, culture, scenery or quality of life, Italy ticks every box. However, forget the parmegiano and the pasta, these pale into insignificance compared to a ride in an Italian taxi. If you’re ever lucky enough to visit Padova, hail yourself a cab and you’ll see what I mean: don’t bother paying to go to Disney Land or Alton Towers - if you want adrenaline-inducing, heart-stopping excitement, bag yourself a 10 Euro taxi ride and hold on tight.
Paulo did the honours and escorted us to the Stadio del Plebiscito for Saturday’s match against Carrera Petrarca. He looked every inch the Italian stallion, with greased-back hair, suntan, aftershave-overkill and Raybans. Watching the road whilst driving and sticking to speed limits were low down on his list of priorities. It felt like we were trapped in a scene that spookily resembled a cross between Pulp Fiction and Austin Powers. “Stadio del Plebiscito – 15 minutes drive, we’ll be there in 10 – yeah baby.” He meant it.
We rattled down one way streets, the wrong way of course, losing a wing mirror and nearly taking out several pushbikes and the odd pedestrian or two, but no matter – he was a man on a mission and was determined to break the land-speed record. The only thing that slowed him down was the sight of a buxom young woman to whom he declared his undying love and kindly offered to father her child. Surprisingly she declined with a gesture of the hand.
We arrived at the stadium 9 minutes later, by which time my face and knuckles were as white as the driven snow. He wanted to drive us to our seats, and would’ve stood by this promise had the road not been blocked by bollards. Still, he tried and even when he hit one, he didn’t seem at all perturbed or flustered. What’s a bumper anyway? He dropped us off and screeched away shouting as he left “rock and-er roll, baby” and vanished in a haze of dust and gravel. Any rugby match after that was sure to be a let down. It was sadly.
The first 15 minutes were riddled with basic handling errors. Sale managed to win lots of possession but could do little with it as the final ball was never on the button. For all the phases of ball that Sale had, we looked nervy and anxious and simply shipped the ball from one wing to the other without actually threatening. In spite of the territorial domination and the pressure put on the Petrarca defence, the Italian side held firm with both Australian lock Davis and stand off Giacomo Preo giving everything to halt the Sharks’ onslaught.
All that Sale were able to muster was a Thomas penalty which the overly fussy French referee gave for a ruck infringement. He had eyes like a hawk when it came to holding on and interfering with the ball when off your feet, but was oblivious to both offside and forward passes. In fairness though, he wasn’t helped by his touch judges who were generally 5 metres behind play most of the time.
That’s not to say there weren’t any passages of exciting free-flowing rugby. There were, but sadly and to the astonishment of the travelling Sale fans, these took place in our own 22 and nearly cost us dearly. Both Lamont and Laharrague were guilty of trying to play rugby to get us out of our own 22, when the obvious choice would’ve been to bang the ball into row Z and clear the lines. Fortunately on both occasions the resulting Italian scrums were no match for Sale and the danger was averted.
When Charlie doesn’t play, we seem to approach games differently. Thomas, who is a very good stand-in stand off, plays much deeper than Hodgson and consequently we seem to lack momentum as our centres are unable to take the ball at pace. What was lacking was initiative. With 20 minutes gone, the game was in danger of becoming every bit as tedious as a Dick Best commentary. We needed someone to take the game by the scruff of the neck and turn our territorial advantage into points. Step forward Nacho Lobbe and Chris Mayor.
Mayor latched on to a pass from Nacho as he tried to keep the ball moving rather than go to ground with it. He took the ball just on the half way line and ignored the easy inside pass to Keil: instead he went for the gap and took Petrarca by surprise. Dodging and evading the desperate tackles from Petrarca’s defence, he straightened his line and headed back inside before feeding the ball to Cueto. He did what he does best and steamrollered into the corner taking two players with him. Thomas duly converted and at last it looked like we meant business.
Two minutes later Lamont chased down a Thomas bomb in what looked like a lost cause. He managed to ping Marten, the full back and Nacho stole the ball at the resulting ruck. Thomas stepped inside Preo and lofted the high ball into the corner for Cueto to chase. He took the ball cleanly and raced under the posts for a second try, only to be called back by the ref who’d spotted an offside earlier in the play when there wasn’t one. Looks were exchanged both on the field and in the terraces at that one.
It didn’t matter as Sale were now building up a head of steam. The pressure was starting to show in the Petrarca ranks and the Italian side started to lose some of its early momentum and drive. They were now the side who looked edgy and anxious. Lamont chased down another lost cause and managed to bundle Marten into touch. Hills rose early from the line out to take a fine catch only for the ball to be knocked on. From the resulting scrum, Sale managed to take the ball against the head and drive Lionel Faure over in the corner. Thomas couldn’t convert from the touchline.
Sale’s backline by this time definitely had the upper hand with Cueto powering down his wing at every opportunity and looking more like the player of old. Lamont and Larharrague worked in tandem on the opposite wing and put Petrarca on the back foot every time Sale moved the ball wide. A 22 metre scrum was awarded after Mayor knocked on a hospital pass from Keil. It made no odds as Sale were starting to turn the screw at the scrum as well and once again took the ball against the head, even though Petrarca’s blindside kept slipping his binding and boring into Faure.
Bonner Evans shielded the ball and Martens shot the ball out to Lamont. Even though he looked likely to lose the ball in contact, he somehow managed to juggle the ball and twist away from Lopez Gonzalez on the wing to plant the ball in the corner. Thomas once again found the angle too acute, and the try went unconverted. Still 3 tries to the good and Sale were looking good. However, those who follow the Club know Sale don’t always do things the easy way: occasionally there’s a break in concentration or a lack of communication.
From the kick off Preo managed to scramble possession at the breakdown and headed for the gap in Sale’s defensive line. He may only be the stand in fly half for Petrarca in the absence of Nicky Little, but he’s a clever footballer and skilful with it. He took the ball into the tackle and took the hit, but not before offloading the ball to Silao Leaega the powerful inside centre who grounded by the posts. Preo converted easily. It was a soft try to give away and obviously annoyed both Jason White and Nacho who let it be known they weren’t best pleased.
As if to prove the point, Nacho seized upon a loose ball in mid field and charged up the park like a man possessed. He took the hit but offloaded to Cueto who very nearly nailed the try after stepping off his foot and cutting inside. Even though he went to ground just short of the line, there was no way Sale were going to let this one go. Jason White picked up the ball at the base of the ruck and was driven over by his forwards to score the fourth bonus point try. Thomas converted and the sides went in with Sale leading by 27 points to 7.
Though Petrarca were already a beaten side, they came out for the second half with a point to prove and some pride to salvage and for 10 minutes had Sale on the back foot. Had it not been for some outstanding last ditch defending the gap in the scores could well have narrowed. Sale withstood this pressure and tried to take the game to Petrarca whenever possible. Eiffion Roberts, still short of match fitness by the look of it, made a bullocking run through the centre and combined well with Keil and Nacho to keep the ball alive. Cueto latched on to the loose ball and charged his way up field but was isolated. Even so Sale managed to recycle the ball and a clever grubber kick by Laharrague was grounded by Bonner Evans. Unfortunately the ref called play back for a knock on which only he had managed to spot.
Sale once again took their eye of the ball after Hills was substituted with what looked like a nasty shoulder injury. A lack of communication meant the ball sat up nicely for Preo just inside the Sharks half. Preo took the ball and ran at Sale’s defence and cleverly chipped through and outpaced Thomas to ground the ball under the posts. He converted his own try and brought the score to 12 – 27. Sometimes when the pressure is on, Sale have a tendency to try and force matters. Occasionally this works, but quite often it works against them.
In an attempt to get Sale back on the front foot again, Laharrague threw an extraordinary missed pass to take out 2 Petrarca attackers, only to take out his own men and cede possession. It was the sort of schoolboy pass that often tends to be suicidal and against better opposition would probably have resulted in a try. Fortunately Martens was able to scramble possession back from the ruck and avert the danger. Harsh words were obviously exchanged again during the break in play as Christian Day replaced Schofield. Whatever was said worked as Sale started to crank up the pressure after that and made their obvious superiority count.
Ripol replaced Laharrague with Lamont moving to full back and the floodgates began to open. A dazzling 40 metre run by Lamont drew cheers from the crowd as he side- stepped 2 opponents and spun out of 3 tackles. He fed the ball to Ripol and was in the clear for the return pass only for Ripol to drop the ball and knock on. It didn’t matter, minutes later he tried exactly the same move and was far too slippery for Petrarca and planted the ball over the line to score his second try. Thomas converted.
Sale’s attacks started to come thick and fast and threats came from all areas of the park. A lovely signature break from Martens left the door open for Day to dab the ball under the posts. Another scintillating break from Lamont and cracking interpassing with Mayor and Ripol created space for David Tait to grab Sale’s seventh try. The final play of the match was almost a carbon-copy move, involving Lamont, Thomas and Ripol and resulted in Mark Cueto putting the icing on the cake by claiming his second try of the match. Thomas couldn’t convert from the acute angle, but it didn’t matter. The game ended with a 53 points to 14 away win for Sale Sharks and a try bonus point.
Perhaps it wasn’t as convincing a win as many would’ve liked. On another day we might have score 80 points plus. However, Petrarca were no push-overs: they’d given a good account of themselves in Bayonne previously and were a threat. The thing to remember is that Sale had made 11 changes to the team that beat Montpellier and still got the result wanted. What it does show is the strength in depth we now have available to us. One day, and I suspect that will be soon, some team is going to get a good tonking. I just hope it’s not the away leg in Bayonne. I’m afraid I can’t go to that one as the Bank Manager’s had words with me. ‘You ain’t got enough money son,’ he said, ‘so ergo – no go.’ I suppose he’s right technically though that doesn’t make it any easier. Maybe he just needs to loosen up a bit? Perhaps I should book him a taxi with Paulo?
Joe Williams
Rock and-er Roll, baby!
If I could pick any country in the world to live in, and money was no object, then Italy would always get my vote. Whether you base your opinions upon the primacy of the cuisine, culture, scenery or quality of life, Italy ticks every box. However, forget the parmegiano and the pasta, these pale into insignificance compared to a ride in an Italian taxi. If you’re ever lucky enough to visit Padova, hail yourself a cab and you’ll see what I mean: don’t bother paying to go to Disney Land or Alton Towers - if you want adrenaline-inducing, heart-stopping excitement, bag yourself a 10 Euro taxi ride and hold on tight.
Paulo did the honours and escorted us to the Stadio del Plebiscito for Saturday’s match against Carrera Petrarca. He looked every inch the Italian stallion, with greased-back hair, suntan, aftershave-overkill and Raybans. Watching the road whilst driving and sticking to speed limits were low down on his list of priorities. It felt like we were trapped in a scene that spookily resembled a cross between Pulp Fiction and Austin Powers. “Stadio del Plebiscito – 15 minutes drive, we’ll be there in 10 – yeah baby.” He meant it.
We rattled down one way streets, the wrong way of course, losing a wing mirror and nearly taking out several pushbikes and the odd pedestrian or two, but no matter – he was a man on a mission and was determined to break the land-speed record. The only thing that slowed him down was the sight of a buxom young woman to whom he declared his undying love and kindly offered to father her child. Surprisingly she declined with a gesture of the hand.
We arrived at the stadium 9 minutes later, by which time my face and knuckles were as white as the driven snow. He wanted to drive us to our seats, and would’ve stood by this promise had the road not been blocked by bollards. Still, he tried and even when he hit one, he didn’t seem at all perturbed or flustered. What’s a bumper anyway? He dropped us off and screeched away shouting as he left “rock and-er roll, baby” and vanished in a haze of dust and gravel. Any rugby match after that was sure to be a let down. It was sadly.
The first 15 minutes were riddled with basic handling errors. Sale managed to win lots of possession but could do little with it as the final ball was never on the button. For all the phases of ball that Sale had, we looked nervy and anxious and simply shipped the ball from one wing to the other without actually threatening. In spite of the territorial domination and the pressure put on the Petrarca defence, the Italian side held firm with both Australian lock Davis and stand off Giacomo Preo giving everything to halt the Sharks’ onslaught.
All that Sale were able to muster was a Thomas penalty which the overly fussy French referee gave for a ruck infringement. He had eyes like a hawk when it came to holding on and interfering with the ball when off your feet, but was oblivious to both offside and forward passes. In fairness though, he wasn’t helped by his touch judges who were generally 5 metres behind play most of the time.
That’s not to say there weren’t any passages of exciting free-flowing rugby. There were, but sadly and to the astonishment of the travelling Sale fans, these took place in our own 22 and nearly cost us dearly. Both Lamont and Laharrague were guilty of trying to play rugby to get us out of our own 22, when the obvious choice would’ve been to bang the ball into row Z and clear the lines. Fortunately on both occasions the resulting Italian scrums were no match for Sale and the danger was averted.
When Charlie doesn’t play, we seem to approach games differently. Thomas, who is a very good stand-in stand off, plays much deeper than Hodgson and consequently we seem to lack momentum as our centres are unable to take the ball at pace. What was lacking was initiative. With 20 minutes gone, the game was in danger of becoming every bit as tedious as a Dick Best commentary. We needed someone to take the game by the scruff of the neck and turn our territorial advantage into points. Step forward Nacho Lobbe and Chris Mayor.
Mayor latched on to a pass from Nacho as he tried to keep the ball moving rather than go to ground with it. He took the ball just on the half way line and ignored the easy inside pass to Keil: instead he went for the gap and took Petrarca by surprise. Dodging and evading the desperate tackles from Petrarca’s defence, he straightened his line and headed back inside before feeding the ball to Cueto. He did what he does best and steamrollered into the corner taking two players with him. Thomas duly converted and at last it looked like we meant business.
Two minutes later Lamont chased down a Thomas bomb in what looked like a lost cause. He managed to ping Marten, the full back and Nacho stole the ball at the resulting ruck. Thomas stepped inside Preo and lofted the high ball into the corner for Cueto to chase. He took the ball cleanly and raced under the posts for a second try, only to be called back by the ref who’d spotted an offside earlier in the play when there wasn’t one. Looks were exchanged both on the field and in the terraces at that one.
It didn’t matter as Sale were now building up a head of steam. The pressure was starting to show in the Petrarca ranks and the Italian side started to lose some of its early momentum and drive. They were now the side who looked edgy and anxious. Lamont chased down another lost cause and managed to bundle Marten into touch. Hills rose early from the line out to take a fine catch only for the ball to be knocked on. From the resulting scrum, Sale managed to take the ball against the head and drive Lionel Faure over in the corner. Thomas couldn’t convert from the touchline.
Sale’s backline by this time definitely had the upper hand with Cueto powering down his wing at every opportunity and looking more like the player of old. Lamont and Larharrague worked in tandem on the opposite wing and put Petrarca on the back foot every time Sale moved the ball wide. A 22 metre scrum was awarded after Mayor knocked on a hospital pass from Keil. It made no odds as Sale were starting to turn the screw at the scrum as well and once again took the ball against the head, even though Petrarca’s blindside kept slipping his binding and boring into Faure.
Bonner Evans shielded the ball and Martens shot the ball out to Lamont. Even though he looked likely to lose the ball in contact, he somehow managed to juggle the ball and twist away from Lopez Gonzalez on the wing to plant the ball in the corner. Thomas once again found the angle too acute, and the try went unconverted. Still 3 tries to the good and Sale were looking good. However, those who follow the Club know Sale don’t always do things the easy way: occasionally there’s a break in concentration or a lack of communication.
From the kick off Preo managed to scramble possession at the breakdown and headed for the gap in Sale’s defensive line. He may only be the stand in fly half for Petrarca in the absence of Nicky Little, but he’s a clever footballer and skilful with it. He took the ball into the tackle and took the hit, but not before offloading the ball to Silao Leaega the powerful inside centre who grounded by the posts. Preo converted easily. It was a soft try to give away and obviously annoyed both Jason White and Nacho who let it be known they weren’t best pleased.
As if to prove the point, Nacho seized upon a loose ball in mid field and charged up the park like a man possessed. He took the hit but offloaded to Cueto who very nearly nailed the try after stepping off his foot and cutting inside. Even though he went to ground just short of the line, there was no way Sale were going to let this one go. Jason White picked up the ball at the base of the ruck and was driven over by his forwards to score the fourth bonus point try. Thomas converted and the sides went in with Sale leading by 27 points to 7.
Though Petrarca were already a beaten side, they came out for the second half with a point to prove and some pride to salvage and for 10 minutes had Sale on the back foot. Had it not been for some outstanding last ditch defending the gap in the scores could well have narrowed. Sale withstood this pressure and tried to take the game to Petrarca whenever possible. Eiffion Roberts, still short of match fitness by the look of it, made a bullocking run through the centre and combined well with Keil and Nacho to keep the ball alive. Cueto latched on to the loose ball and charged his way up field but was isolated. Even so Sale managed to recycle the ball and a clever grubber kick by Laharrague was grounded by Bonner Evans. Unfortunately the ref called play back for a knock on which only he had managed to spot.
Sale once again took their eye of the ball after Hills was substituted with what looked like a nasty shoulder injury. A lack of communication meant the ball sat up nicely for Preo just inside the Sharks half. Preo took the ball and ran at Sale’s defence and cleverly chipped through and outpaced Thomas to ground the ball under the posts. He converted his own try and brought the score to 12 – 27. Sometimes when the pressure is on, Sale have a tendency to try and force matters. Occasionally this works, but quite often it works against them.
In an attempt to get Sale back on the front foot again, Laharrague threw an extraordinary missed pass to take out 2 Petrarca attackers, only to take out his own men and cede possession. It was the sort of schoolboy pass that often tends to be suicidal and against better opposition would probably have resulted in a try. Fortunately Martens was able to scramble possession back from the ruck and avert the danger. Harsh words were obviously exchanged again during the break in play as Christian Day replaced Schofield. Whatever was said worked as Sale started to crank up the pressure after that and made their obvious superiority count.
Ripol replaced Laharrague with Lamont moving to full back and the floodgates began to open. A dazzling 40 metre run by Lamont drew cheers from the crowd as he side- stepped 2 opponents and spun out of 3 tackles. He fed the ball to Ripol and was in the clear for the return pass only for Ripol to drop the ball and knock on. It didn’t matter, minutes later he tried exactly the same move and was far too slippery for Petrarca and planted the ball over the line to score his second try. Thomas converted.
Sale’s attacks started to come thick and fast and threats came from all areas of the park. A lovely signature break from Martens left the door open for Day to dab the ball under the posts. Another scintillating break from Lamont and cracking interpassing with Mayor and Ripol created space for David Tait to grab Sale’s seventh try. The final play of the match was almost a carbon-copy move, involving Lamont, Thomas and Ripol and resulted in Mark Cueto putting the icing on the cake by claiming his second try of the match. Thomas couldn’t convert from the acute angle, but it didn’t matter. The game ended with a 53 points to 14 away win for Sale Sharks and a try bonus point.
Perhaps it wasn’t as convincing a win as many would’ve liked. On another day we might have score 80 points plus. However, Petrarca were no push-overs: they’d given a good account of themselves in Bayonne previously and were a threat. The thing to remember is that Sale had made 11 changes to the team that beat Montpellier and still got the result wanted. What it does show is the strength in depth we now have available to us. One day, and I suspect that will be soon, some team is going to get a good tonking. I just hope it’s not the away leg in Bayonne. I’m afraid I can’t go to that one as the Bank Manager’s had words with me. ‘You ain’t got enough money son,’ he said, ‘so ergo – no go.’ I suppose he’s right technically though that doesn’t make it any easier. Maybe he just needs to loosen up a bit? Perhaps I should book him a taxi with Paulo?
Joe Williams
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