Today was a rugby day. Just two weeks before the beginning of the 6N one must verify the facts as one sees them and proselyticizes. WOW! That cannot how the word is spelled, can it?
Now, remember that in the Heineken Cup, the three qualifying Irish sides are provinces, not clubs, in kind reflection of their opposition.
The Ulster/Clermont derby was mediocre at best.
My feeling the whole week has been Uklster and the red fists almost pulled it off in a rather dull affair. The view from my perch was nothing extraordinary.
Can the South African Anglos via Pretoria. If it was heard once it was heard ten times.
Vosloo from Clermont. To be fair, Terblanche, Muller, Pienaar are just as Afikaaner as Vosloo and , although the trio may have played their latest South African rugby in Durban, all three would be comfortable in Pretoria too.
If Ulster is to win the HC it will be as a result of Pienaar and Muller. Terblanche may be the weak link but it would be my viewpoint that Paddy Wallace and Ian Humphreys are not much better, if that.
For Clermont, particular attention was paid to the three men, perhaps five, who I know will start for France: Rougerie, Fafano, Parra, Pierre and Bonnaire. Rougerie will destroy France’s chance in the 6N.
Munster beatup Northampton and did so convincingly. It is not a Saint side that looked anywhere near what they should have. The result was closer than the score. England again proved that they are learning by not appointing Mallinder as caretaker coach.
The same can be said of Leinster’s victory over Montpelier.
Two ways to look at the Irish wins.
The first is smells good, tastes bad.
The second is looks goopd, tastes bad.
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Just at the right moment in the account three soused friends showed up to join the Klaus party.
One was French Tony. Another was Martinique Larry. The third was Alaska Lars.
Yes, there was some jolly dwarf tossing. It my first time.
The Claus retinue plyed us with more grog and beauteous naked nymphs with red bottoms and nipples that pointed toward heaven.
There was immense laughter. No holds barred. Intoxication without fear of reprisal. It was totally Viking. Just ask Lars who had two happy dwarfs on a shoulder and three pink bottomed lassies cuddled between his large hands.
At this time Frech Tony and Martinique Larry looked confused.
Unlike Lars, who didn’t care how he was transporeted to the party, the other two could not piece it all together.
Mrs. Claus informed me that explaining everthing would fall to me, but not to worry because , despite my own frumpled condition and, as the only really invited guest, my gift was just beginning.
WOW!! At over two hundred years old . Santa’s wife was looking very sensual.
Now this experience was unbelievabole and will be not so easy to impart. Mrs. Klaus bent down and gave me a passionate kiss and Lars laughed and Tony and Larry looked horrified.
I was loving it.
Lars passed the gold goblet of mead to our group. Larry and Tone began to giggle.
