WORTHING 2009

Fifth Tour for Ewes & Rams

Last year’s Ewes & Rams were shepherded together once again for the May Bank Holiday Worthing Mixed Hockey tournament, all that is bar (or baa?) James Spurdle, ironically on lambing duties. Travelling from furthest afield was Clare Huntley, driving from near Barnsley down the M1 and half way round the M25. A challenging journey at the best of times, Clare drove into the teeth of London’s mass migration on a Friday afternoon/evening at the start of a Bank Holiday weekend via the country’s largest carpark (M25). Chaos and delay caused by the inevitable road accident being par for the course, we were lucky to see her before Sunday.

Varying arrival times of squad members at the Manor Guesthouse caused a fragmented start to the familiar Friday night formula of beer and biriyani. Thirst drove Alan Cheffey, Dave Lury, Steve Mahoney and tour novice Matt Sheehan to break first for The Cricketers while the girls fussed and fretted over hair and make-up. The pub was running a guest ale festival-hooray! Cheffers and Lury launched themselves into a pint called something like Old Todger. Two mouthfuls were sufficient for them to conclude all was not as it should be. The landlord sampled it as well before hanging a towel over the pump and announcing it was the second of the real ales to have gone off that evening. A couple of rounds of a more familiar brew later, a mobile phone call informed us that the Ewes were ready to meet up at the Indian restaurant. Four Rams rushed across not to keep the girls waiting and then waited (and waited) to be joined by the intrepid Clare, Ros Clemmans, Claire Baker-Hoare, Sophie Kelly and Jenny Forsyth plus two more newcomers, Natalie House and Phil Wainwright.

While we crunched our way through the papadums, the Ewes were held spellbound by the silver tongued Cheffers’ fascination with fingers, pronouncing Jenny’s “stumpy” and Clare’s “fat.” No wonder wife Jane (finger shape unknown) was unable to resist his charms!

Then Clare, who had only been in Yorkshire for a month, revealed her fascination for whippets, ferrets and pigeon racing suggesting she has already gone native.

Supper was drawing to a close before our twelfth man arrived-Gary Wheaton, his departure delayed by a mishap to one of his sons who needed hospital treatment, (thank you Mrs W for allowing him to come!)

On any other weekend, after a few drinks and a curry, with the clock nudging towards midnight, the tourists (or most of them) would have been thinking of turning in BUT for just once in a year good sense and a good night’s sleep  goes out the window. There was Matt Sheehan’s cider lake to dive into along with a variety of other alcoholic beverages to be sampled back at the guesthouse and few of us drifted off to bed before 2am. Never mind! We knew our first match wasn’t until 10.30. We were tour veterans, we’d done this before. A hearty English breakfast at 8.30 would set us up for the day. We’d be OK!

Saturday, 8.30 ish-Oh God! Fuzzy heads, parched throats, sore eyes, suppressed appetites and monosyllabic breakfast “banter.” It’s only 12 months since we did this.

How can it feel so much harder? Worst casualty? Surprisingly Matt Sheehan who had shown so much promise in trials on Saturday nights being put through his paces by Vince Sharp. Clearly Worthing sorts out the Rams from the lambs. Last to the table and eating very little, Matt wore a ghostly palour for much of the day as he struggled to come to terms with the rigours of the tour regime.

First match against White Lions of Horsham with Gary donning the pads and playing brilliantly. It developed into a rearguard action, defence and keeper withstanding a penalty corner count of ten to none in favour of the opposition and the team coming away with a 1-1 draw courtesy of Matt suppressing his ailments long enough to grab the equaliser.

Finishing by 11.30 we then had a long wait for the second game, till 3.30 to be precise. Our opposition were New Age Drinking Society who, unfortunately had spent the intervening hours living up to their name. Despite flashes of undoubted skill, they were too much in the grip of the (alcoholic) spirit for it to be a memorable match. Our standard of play suffered accordingly, and we scraped home with a 4-3 win with 2 further goals from the recovering Matt and one each from Ros and Clare.

Saturday night is fancy dress party night at the Assembly Rooms. Anyone passing La Luna restaurant in Worthing that evening would have been forgiven for thinking it was hosting a dinner for surgeons who had just finished a shift in theatre. It was instead Ewes & Rams in their scrubs, skull caps and face masks, fake stethoscopes ready to make an inaccurate assessment of health if called upon. Despite all being dressed the same, some had the look of hospital porters, others anaesthetists and the select few the deportment and clinical skills with cutlery as to be taken for brain surgeons. When we moved on to Wetherspoons for a quick drink on our way to the party, we were asked if we were from the local hospital-by a nurse from Chichester so we must have looked the genuine article!

We were running a bit late for everything and didn’t make our grand entrance at the Assembly Rooms till 11pm-only two hours drinking and bopping time till the DJ rounded off proceedings with Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York” as he had the previous year-in fact there was a genuine sense of déjà vu about the play list; we weren’t that partied out not to remember the similarities with what was played last year. Anyway, no time for a gentle limber up, it as straight into the foot stomping, swing your partner stuff with caps and masks swiftly discarded in the heat of the dancing.

As for Cinders at the Ball with her Prince Charming, tempus fugit that Saturday night for our partying crowd and when the clock struck 1 a.m. it was time to wend our way back to the guesthouse. If we remembered how we’d felt Saturday morning, no-one was saying as Matt’s cider made another appearance and even Sophie and Jenny made a token appearance at post party gathering despite having to leave for Somerset early Sunday morning.

After seeing the first three hours of the day in before most of the team called it a night, Sunday brought the luxury of later breakfast in the knowledge that we weren’t playing till 2.30 so there was time to stroll along the seafront and/or play crazy golf. The first match against Horsham Hurricanes included of a first half of “hockball”

(sounds better than “footkey”) ie hockey played with a football. Reverting to correct size ball after the interval, the match was noteable for “Huntley’s hat-trick of howlers” as Clare contrived to miss three clear scoring chances and then to have another well saved as we went down 2-3. But we’re not a team apportion blame!

Only two hours before the second game on Sunday but when we took the pitch Strollers Slapsticks were conspicuous by their absence. To their credit, organisers Penguins put together a team at short notice to give us a game memorable for two things. Firstly, Phil Wainwright who had never picked up a hockey stick before the tournament, scored his first goal to earn us a 1-1 draw. Secondly, for the first time ever in 24 years of playing for Chard, Steve Mahoney kitted up in goal where he was only marginally slower than he had been in open play.

Sunday night is traditionally tour (Chinese) takeaway night and we stuck with that tradition, before paying our second visit to The Cricketers and its ale festival. No one can deny the sheer reckless heroism of some of the squad for risking something so pale yellow as to be almost luminous called Spring Chicken but their failure to finish their pints confirmed it tasted as bad as it looked. You’re safer with a pint of London Pride. Back at base the cider lake was finally drained but so were the physical resources of many by another very late night/early morning before dropping into the arms of Morpheus.

Monday morning we said our goodbyes to our patient hostess Sandy, Ros having organised the thoughtful touch of a bouquet and Alan having finally got his sums right using various people’s fingers and toes, paid what was due.

We had two games lined up against WGC (What God Created) and Marauders. Both sides present-good start as Mondays can be a bit iffy. WGC were Bath University on their first visit to Worthing. Student sides aren’t what they used to be. Time was by the third day of a tournament, you could count on students to be zombie like through lack of sleep and too much of everything else, scarcely able to get a full side on the pitch no matter how many they had brought. Not any more! As we appraised them with our bloodshot eyes and weary bodies, their burgeoning squad positively skipped around in their warm up and we were filled with a sense of foreboding. As it turned out the match was, until the last few minutes, the best of the weekend. Although Steve, padded up again showed an uncanny knack of committing himself too early when diving at a forward’s feet and thus conceding three goals, each time Ewes & rams struck back to make it three all. Thrilling stuff.

A late attack by WGC saw Dave Lury gamely chasing back, not trusting his suspect keeper to deal with the threat. As the WGC player struck the ball, it freakishly flew up into Dave’s face. Glasses broken and head bleeding, Dave was in the arms and under the tender care of Claire Baker-Hoare before he knew what was happening. Then it was the turn of St John’s Ambulance and then a visit to A & E before he was driven home. Thanks to all involved in taking care of Dave but especially to Claire. All indications are he is making a good recovery after several visits to hospital for checks.

Needless to say, we didn’t play the final game against Marauders but there’s always next year and doubtless Dave will be there again.