Ulternative Alster Fan Club

Cracklin’ Rosie

Cracklin' Rosie, get on board
We're gonna ride till there ain't no more togo
Taking it slow Lord, don't you know
Have me a time with a poor man's lady

Our song keeps runnin' on
Play it now
Play it now
Play it now, my baby

Cracklin' Rosie, make me a smile
God if it lasts for an hour, that's all right
We got all night
To set the world right
Find us a dream that don't asks no questions, yeah
Oh, I love my Rosie child

….and a brief word about Anne, Anne Perry that is, who appears to have taken up Ulster Rugby’s PR baton. A colleague in work asked me which establishments in Belfast might be showing the match. UR and the ubiquitous Anne had obligingly listed a number of establishments in Belfast, Larne and London showing the game and I copied him the list perhaps unwittingly converting another non rugby fan to the delights of title chasing rugby. The Rosetta or the Rosie as it has delightfully come to be known was showing the match and that was where the straw poll conducted on the UAFC site indicated the bulk of posters where headed.

So it was, on a warm spring night I found myself staring at the Rosie’s rather run down frontage and wondering which room in the establishment I should head for. Bar or Lounge? Lounge or bar? Having been in the right hand side room last week and found a conducive and somewhat intoxicating atmosphere I made my choice and found despite it being 30 minutes or more to kick off, a salubrious crowd of supporters gathered and already halfway through their first pints and Ballygowan water. The ancient Mariner could be seen securely roped to his seat replete with pint whilst the redoubtable chairman Kimble could be seen with his ever present secretary. After exchanging warm greetings with chairman K and engaging the bar staff for a pint the chairman and myself decided to visit the next door. Rumour had it the elusive Browner had been ensconced there last Friday though our objective was not to locate him but to scout and size up the best location for the match.

The bar was already beginning to fill and a big screen of considerable clarity proved to be a clincher for watching the Ulster game. Alongside it a smaller TV screen as it happens, was going to broadcast silently, progress in the Leinster match live from Embra. There would be no escaping reality as it went down to the wire 80 minutes later. It rapidly became clear Ulster would have to win but….

The bar was by now almost full with Ulster shirt bedecked aficos and instantly recognizable if only because he was once again strapped to the bar, the cap’n could be seen in the company of CT as the pair of them rapidly demolished an unnerving garlic/gravy, potato/chicken combination. Match time and the bar had by now swelled in capacity to what might be hailed as a full house. A few disgruntled regulars looked on and one Rangers fan eventually could take no more and departed the scene presumably for quieter climes. With Powermor, Freddie Benson, Kimble, CT and the cap’n we settled down, standing up, to watch the game. There was a tremor of excitement when Embra forged ahead with a penalty but that was really about the last real shot the Gunners fired as Leinster re-enacted their usual clinical demolition and ability to take chances by securing the bonus point sometime in the second half..

Ulster’s game mean time ebbed and flowed with the O’s drawing first blood with a well taken try before Ulster and Matt McCullough completed a score of their own with an American Football type touchdown by Matt McCullough. Cue huge celebrations tinged with nervousness as it was clear that Ulster’s lineout was malfunctioning and Humphreys was jittery. Thankfully others where less affected by the enormity of the match with Ferris, Trimble and Wilson all playing huge games. Chancing went begging before halftime when Ulster could have been leading by two clear tries. The second half started and Ulster where dominating but Humph was not putting away those penalties. The atmosphere in the Rosie rapidly became electric as it was clear this would not be a simple title to win. It also ran out of Guinness not that it was Freddie Benson’s fault, he gingerly sipped his way through a few pints of the black stuff perhaps wanting to fully enjoy the craic.

Amidst the wild cheering, tenseness and wildly fluctuating emotions as the game swung towards the O’s with a late try, one man stood alone at the bar with his pint and thoughts. W.R. Duncan, one time Ulster legend and wing forward for his Province watched the game with little sign of emotion on his face. A member of the famous and outstanding Ulster Provincial side in the 90’s to which Jimmy Davidson spoke so warmly about earlier in the evening in his Telegraph article. Duncan played in the amateur era when there was little sign of a cohesive strategy for improving the game in Ireland and he must have wondered how much the Provincial rugby scene has matured with the Rosie packed to the rafters as Ulster vied for a mini 3 nations title. A far cry from those days in the nineties when the fans let alone the media barely covered the provincial game here.

What I would have given for his thoughts as Ulster having conceded the try lagged a point behind the O’s before Humph’s drop goal soared, wobbled, bobbled and finally staggered behind the posts with first Henson signaling the ball over the bar and David Changeleng of the SRU signaling the shot was good. The bar went mad, the ‘Stand up; song rang out and cap’n Grumpy dived to the floor, camera in hand to shoot the massive celebrations as Ulster appeared to have the title within touching distance. Grumps is nothing but a multi tasking individual and he managed to dutifully continue singing Stand up for the Ulstermen whilst lying on the ground and aiming his camera. A nervy 6 minutes followed Humphs dramatic drop goal before referee Changeleng blew for full time and sparked off massive celebrations amongst the Ulster traveling contingent in the Liberty Stadium. They danced, sang, shouted, waved their flags in a raucous, rampaging, roistering roaring on of the Ulstermen, their rapturous support reflected in the crowd in the Rosetta who reciprocated and cheered to the rafters as the team led by Justin Harrison had finally fulfilled our dream of a trophy after a seven year wait since we last lifted a cup.

Cracklin' Rosie, make me a smile
God if it lasts for an hour, that's all right
We got all night
To set the world right
Find us a dream that don't asks no questions, yeah
Oh, I love my Rosie child.

And so in the warm afterglow of winning the title we cheery supporters made our way into the lounge bar of the Rosie where at last we all got to shake hands and exchange thoughts with the elusive legendary Browner, the man with more links than Lance Armstrong’s bicycle chain. The cap’n offered me a lift home in his charabanc, my thanks to him as he had to endure a somewhat hoarse, mildly euphoric but also exhausted supporter on the journey back to the bunker. Mrs. Ballpark was also relieved as she hadn’t to endure a somewhat hoarse, mildly euphoric but also exhausted supporter on the journey back to the bunker.

Saturday dawned and Ulster supporters everywhere from Sydney to the Seine will have basked in a warm afterglow of victory achieved the hard way, whilst the Rosie regulars will slip back into a state of morphine like existence, the crackle gone and with it the Ulster supporters until next season. Let’s hope we can do it all again, but without the nerves. I’m sure humph will oblige by not making it so close next time round. At the continental market at the City Hall I was standing in my Ulster shirt, I think it was welded to my back after last night. A complete stranger came up and started to talk about the game, that is symptomatic of the sport and it’s supporters, I raise my glass to them one more time and especially those dogged and hardy souls who made it to Swansea to drink in the euphoria of winning and a well deserved title.

As I type two Ulster fans are on Radio Ulster explaining how they missed the match when their plane to Bristol was diverted to Bournemouth and despite their efforts they missed the match, having to listen to it on the radio on the way to Swansea. As the guy said when we got to Swansea our voices where still intact unlike many who’d been at the match. I and many others in Rosie know what he means.

Name			Your comments
	Brehon		May be it falls to rugby to rescue the pub culture also - nobody in their right mind goes to the pub just for a drink! Bp's fond account suggests the Rosie should displace Earls Court as the iconoic watering point for Aussies - but best to consult management before Lonely Planet. Well done all - roll on the friendlies and improved coverage for those of us hanging upside down.
	BR		"the team ... had finally fulfilled our dream of a trophy after a seven year wait since we last lifted a cup" Celtic Cup ???
	Cap'n G		"the cap’n could be seen in the company of CT as the pair of them rapidly demolished an unnerving garlic/gravy, potato/chicken combination." Steak and chips actually! CT's was "medium/well done", mine was "rare" (add your own jokes). I bit of raw blood trickling from the centre of it when cut into seemed appropriate fayre for pre-match. "one Rangers fan eventually could take no more and departed the scene" He came hoping to see someone else win Celtic's league, and when he realised it wasn't the SPL went away disappointed.
	ballpark		I'm indoubted to the cap'n for minuting the steak business and Brehon, Lonely Planet should be made aware of the Rosetta, not so mcuh an iconoic venue as archaic, (by word for character)!!.
	the original kimble		And I am delighted to be able to say, "I was there". No, not at the game, I was at the Rosie, watching the game. I say we make that place our home from home when we are not playing at home, for those who can't get away, from home that is! Unless you can't get a late pass in which you will really have to watch it at home.
	ballpark		Ah, you where there TOK, but.....did you meet the legendary Mr. Browner himself??? If you didn't you were only half there!!

 

* 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.