It was a crazy game yesterday.
Salford should have been out of sight at half time with a 30 point lead. They were not dominant in the forwards at any point in the game but their great centres and wingers absolutely tore us to shreds whenever they got the ball and scored off pretty much every attack. Only poor kicking kept the margin down.
In the second half the Salford forwards seemed very tired early in the second half and simply played 'one up' Rugby with almost no circulation of the ball. That didn't work.
I think their supporters who wanted to break through on the half way line got closer to our try line than their team did in the second forty.
It seemed that their supporters wanted to be deliberately belligerent by invading the home end when they would have had their run of the almost empty stand opposite.
They seemed to start off by arguing amongst themselves, then the home fans, then with their coaching staff and finally with their own players. This provocative behaviour extended to the corporate sections as well as at the front of the stands with some very rotund ladies being particularly aggressive.
They certainly caught an ear full back from the home supporters and I think it created a cracking atmosphere with no real harm done though I dare say the library/theatre brigade might not have enjoyed the company of these partizan supporters.
I thought the second half reminded me of Any Given Sunday.
We fought like lions for the ball and I was very proud.
Cheers
Rammo
PS Here is the section I'm referring too
[i
I don't know what to say, really. Three minutes to the biggest battle of our professional lives. All comes down to today, and either, we heal as a team, or we're gonna crumble. Inch by inch, play by play. Until we're finished. We're in hell right now, gentlemen. Believe me. And, we can stay here, get the kicked out of us, or we can fight our way back into the light. We can climb outta hell... one inch at a time. Now I can't do it for ya, I'm too old. I look around, I see these young faces and I think, I mean, I've made every wrong choice a middle-aged man can make. I, uh, I've ed away all my money, believe it or not. I chased off anyone who's ever loved me. And lately, I can't even stand the face I see in the mirror. You know, when you get old, in life, things get taken from you. I mean, that's... that's... that's a part of life. But, you only learn that when you start losin' stuff. You find out life's this game of inches, so is football. Because in either game - life or football - the margin for error is so small. I mean, one half a step too late or too early and you don't quite make it. One half second too slow, too fast and you don't quite catch it. The inches we need are everywhere around us. They're in every break of the game, every minute, every second. On this team we fight for that inch. On this team we tear ourselves and everyone else around us to pieces for that inch. We claw with our fingernails for that inch. Because we know when add up all those inches, that's gonna make the ing difference between winning and losing! Between living and dying! I'll tell you this, in any fight it's the guy whose willing to die whose gonna win that inch. And I know, if I'm gonna have any life anymore it's because I'm still willing to fight and die for that inch, because that's what living is, the six inches in front of your face. Now I can't make you do it. You've got to look at the guy next to you, look into his eyes. Now I think ya going to see a guy who will go that inch with you. Your gonna see a guy who will sacrifice himself for this team, because he knows when it comes down to it your gonna do the same for him. That's a team, gentlemen, and either, we heal, now, as a team, or we will die as individuals. That's football guys, that's all it is. Now, what are you gonna do? [/i
