URSC BBQ at the Civil Service RFC Pavillion
Anybody who went along expecting last yea’rs fayre needn't have bothered. The steaks where missing, as where the chefs, big Bob and CT. Last year BP ate the last peppered steak to save Matt McCullough's fitness before he toured Japan. This year there was no need for any of these heroics; it was typical BBQ fayre of hot dogs for the pups and burgers for big boys.
On arrival at Stormont on a dull Saturday afternoon the crack of leather 'pon willow could he heard resonating around the famous old estate as a Civil Service 2nd XV impersonated a cricket match.
The BBQ upstairs in the Pavillion was already underway when in walked Roderick Usher, aka Beechey Park, in a multi flame coloured shirt, that looked like it was straight off the set of the Rockford Files. Beechey reckoned he was garnering admiring glances from the assembled throng though some of the remarks where confusing him. CT reckoned he needed sunglasses within a foot of the attire whilst nearby photographers dispensed with their flash guns in the shirt’s presence.
Looking round there where probably 100 plus souls of all ages gathered there. Hugging the rail alongside the bar stood cap'n Grumpy in the company of MUM who sported a rugby shirt with so much sponsorship on it, he was in danger of being mugged. The cap'n was behaving rather like a fisheries protection vessel and would, throughout the afternoon be seen, hove to, in various locations. I later came across him on the balcony overlooking the paint drying game on the lawns below in the company of MUM. It's times like these you learn little things like MUM, (Mid Ulster Maestro), revealed he had never driven an Austin Maestro (when asked) and therefore I assume his ‘name’ must have derived from his sporting prowess as a second row. He eventually admitted under extreme duress he'd played senior league rugby in a distant era.
Ulster's female version of the Goodies, formerly the North West branch of the Ulster Ladettes where in attendance. Goody, Crafty and mini Craft where located at a table within touching distance of the bar. This was to make it easy for Goody to get to the bar with her pranged leg and buy her round without the Goodies having to wait an absolute age between drinks. Mini craft (the shy one of the trio), would later win a prize at the halftime raffle. An Andrew Maxwell autographed photo, which I don’t think from a distance actually looked like Maxy though the signature did.
The prize was part of the draw of the ballot tickets which took place at halftime in the Heiny final and featured various pieces of regalia as prizes, such as baseball caps, which the chicken farmer won at least two at the last count. Beechey junior grew crosser by the moment as the numbers drawn stayed ominously around the 300’s, with junior having tickets between 30 and 40. Beechey put this case of bad temperament down to the youngster’s competitiveness and thinks it will stand him in good stead on the rugger pitch when he gets older!! “Every team has one!”, he confessed.
As the cap'n hove here and there so to did the ancient Mariner replete with the modern day equivalent of a sou wester. A Guinness hat with Guinness bottles dangling, okker style from the brim. A more commercial model than the one modelled by Ulster’s rangy Aussie in photos to be seen lying around the pavilion. The Mariner was in talkative mood and exchanged homilies with all who came within earshot.
Beechey Park was in confiding mood and told me Beechey junior, whom he had dragged along under the promise of a bouncy castle was now calling him a liar and an irrevocable family split was looming over the said inflatable's absence. Beechey promised junior an enquiry through SCOOP in order to pacify the lad. There was the face painting, but Beechey junior was inconsolable, “I’ll watch the match,” he groaned.
Chairman Kimble was circulating the tables in the company of his secretary. No self respecting chairman should be seen without a blonde at his right shoulder. From the way he was talking conspiratorially I think he was indulging in a little bit of horse trading, I couldn’t get close enough to find out, if he was trading in dead horses.
The build up to the Cardiff Heiny cup final involving the men from Limerick against some French aristocrats was taking place via a big screen in the corner of the pavilion. Owing to the open door to the balcony, for access to the burgers, some strong white daylight caused Declan Kidney's face to loom on screen as a kind of whiter shade of pale and barely visible. Thankfully this technical hitch was sorted as the doors to the balcony where shut, the curtains pulled just before the match began.
Cardiff's Millenium Stadium immediately hove into glorious technicolour, or mainly monochrome red given the preponderance of Munster's in the ground. It was clear as the game progressed that there where not a few Biarritz supporters in the URSC's audience and indeed it was possible to detect those with no loyalties at all who appeared to be cheering for both teams. A certain chicken farmer though, was unashamedly cheering for B.O. who proceeded to lose!!
Let's hope he has better luck cheering Ulster next Friday. The lads had arrived almost straight off the plane from Birmingham, at least the news was that Simon Best was in the bar next door, legless, though this proved to be something of a misnomer. Earlier in the afternoon Adam Larkin had appeared with a minder who looked like Richard Mulligan, the News Letter hack, replete in a Dungannon RFC shirt which had about a tenth of the sponsorship MUM's shirt had. Adam was long gone by the time Justin Harrison and Simon Best stepped into the Pavillion, from the next door bar, one presumed.
Almost immediately the assembled throng burst into “Stand up for the Ulstermen”. Simon laughed heartily all the way through. Perhaps the sight of the mainly middle aged, Broadway type chorus line singing and clapping ‘Stand up’ really was a bit of a joke. Anyway it's the thought that counts. Justin was called to the front by the URSC chairman, Mr. Kimble and duly presented with the URSC player of the year award and the sponsored prize to much well deserved applause. Justin then made a brief speech which this writer unfortunately didn't catch and more applause rang out and possibly another rendition of “Stand up”. Justin posed for numerous photos including one terrific one with the kids that where present. He also patiently signed any number of autographs, chatted away to anyone that accosted him and even posed for a photo with Beechey Park by now minus the wheels of fire shirt. (He had offered to lend the shirt to Crafty but inexplicably she refused the offer so it disappeared into a large bag until next years Barbie)
Simon Best chatted away cheerfully despite his injury and with some difficulty, balanced on one good leg, signing autographs. He and Goody exchanged cast notes and maybe even autographs for the cast, (I think!) Finally it was time for the Ulstermen to go home and they duly bid their farewell to the enthusiastic band of Ulster supporters who had, I think, left them in no doubt as to what has to be done next Friday night.
The sun was by now beginning to drop over Black Mountain and cast long shadows over the cricketers. Attention focussed from the balcony, by some concerned mothers, on a youthful cricketer who had been sent out to bat and looked not a year over twelve. They needn’t have bothered of course. The lad was adept with his trusty bat and was well into his innings when the hardier members, remnants of the URSC barbie departed the balcony for the warmth of the bar.
As the sun finally dipped below the mountain, Crafty and mini craft where still sailing along at full steam. It was time for this writer to bid adieu, which he did with heavy legs and eyelids, leaving two of the goodies and an admirer to while away the evening and possibly reflect on this year’s URSC Barbie.
* The UAFC are not responsible for the witterings of any supporters in the production of this piece, and the views expressed are the views of the eidjit doing the writing.
