Hammers get the W in an absolute thriller!
Hammersmith & Fulham, the Hammers, the men-in-red, the boys from SW6, travelled away out of the environs of London further to the south west, to face Bracknell, a road trip that was undertaken while the winds and the rains of storm Darragh ravaged much of the British mainland.
Undeterred, the men in red set out upon their voyage to claim a victory against an opponent sitting just above them in the league table. Buoyed from a resounding victory against a tough Tunbridge Wells side, the Hammers travelled to Bracknell looking to make it back to back wins for the first time this season, to lay down a marker that the domination displayed against Tunbridge was no mere flash-in-the pan, but a true marker of this team’s capabilities.
There was some slight changes to the line-up, with Harry Scarr unavailable due to exertions the previous week against Tunbridge, but Eoin Baker was a welcome return to the side after missing the victory against Tunbridge due to work commitments.
The savage storm Darragh meant a foreboding setting, with wailing winds, sideways rain and biting cold setting the tone for the encounter. 
Not to be perturbed, the men in red, led by grizzled captain Tom Proctor, were eagerly awaiting a physical contest. With the howling wind having subsided somewhat, the mercurial Sam Seymour got the game underway, duly kicking straight to Bracknell’s behemoth no.8, who was duly met by the Hammers own man mountain Thomas ‘Strong Jawline’ Proctor. That first carry set the tone for much of the first half, with the Bracknell pitch, as any quantity surveyor worth their salt would testify, being on a slope, with the boys from SW6 electing to play uphill in the first half with the wind at their backs, thanks to the tactical nous of Captain Tom (Potential chess grandmaster).
The Hammers lineout was under siege in the initial phases of the first half, with potentially sabotaging actions being alleged against the Bracknell ball boys, using very lax towel drying methods when it was Hammers ball, yet vigorously drying Bracknell ball each time. Unfortunately it is very difficult to prosecute minors for accessory liability, so the Hammers legal department let them off with a stern written warning. The very tall and effective Bracknell lineout jumpers and the baying mob of Bracknellians all contributed to putting the Hammers lineout under serious pressure.
Perhaps thinking that as Hammers were only a stone’s throw away from Parsons Green, (think white horse et al), the men in red would prove to be a soft touch, the first phases of the game consisted of very much direct running from robust Bracknell forwards, following turnover ball. Perhaps caught a little cold, the Hammers defence initially struggled against an onslaught of waves of green, powerful blocky forwards making considerable yards despite the manful attempts of the Hammers defence, Bracknell manged to power through towards the twenty two. After several phases the Brack managed to chip in behind, but Marshall Macleod A.K.A Robert the Bruce, denied his English foe any chance at scoring and said ‘come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough’ as he was forced to kick the ball dead to avoid a certain Bracknell try.
Bracknell did come, and indeed did prove hard, and off the back of the resulting five metre scrum, after several thudding carries yielding nothing against a solid red wall, decided they could not take any more collisions against the Hammers men up front, so in a backhanded and uncouth manner, played it out the back while the Hammers were relishing the physical battle, with their short rotund fullback slipping over for the opening try (4). The conversion unsuccessful, it was 5-0 Bracknell early on.
Stung into action, South West London’s finest began to play but errors crept in and Bracknell’s locomotive like forwards kept coming. However, chop tackling abounded in the Hammersmith and Fulham defence, the forward pack hunting down and smashing each Bracknell carrier with venom, as the youths say ‘they got that dawg in em’. Despite some excellent defence, with the backs now doing their duty for the fatherland, the hammers lineout was under attack, as the aforementioned unholy trinity of dubious Bracknell ball boy drying techniques, questionable lineout jumping by large trolls and the baying mob all served to make it exceedingly difficult for the Hurlingham heroes to secure their own ball.
Eventually, after the referee spotted some more Bracknell underhanded methods, the Fulham massif were awarded a penalty. Up stepped the arguable G.O.A.T., soon-to-be married Joe Carolan (read it and weep ladies). Unfortunately storm Darragh had other ideas Mr. Top try scorer’s attempt sailed narrowly wide. The resulting phases of play were dominated by set piece, but each time a Bracknell forward carried, a Fulham man was there to meet with some ferocious tackling from Northern Ireland’s finest Marcus McNeill, who seemed to be effervescent in his appetite to smash big units into the ground. Not to be left behind was minor royalties’ second best rugby player, (after Mike Tindall), Seb Rivett, who was closely competing with Marcus for how many chop tackles one man could make.
Bracknell did manage to make a searing break, and their diminutive but rapid winger approaching the Hammers line some of their players were already celebrating, but across came Sam Seymour doing his best Gandalf impression and screaming ‘you shall not pass’ as he tackled the bright yellow boot wearing winger in an incredible cover tackle. The Brack were in behind, but like waves crashing against igneous rock, the Hammers defence would not buckle and forced the Brack back and into a turnover, before clearing away possession.
Despite repeated attempts to breach the Hammers defensive line, the brute force of the Bracknell pack could not get past the iron will of Hammersmith & Fulham. This forced another chip in behind the iron curtain, however, Marshall Macleod once again snuffed out the danger, ensuring that to breach the South West London wall, will require much more than simple little poots over the top. However, the lineout was Bracknell ball, just inside the Hammers twenty two. Repeated battering rams were thrown against the Hammers line, with the tackling incessant, with every man putting his body on the line. The hammering of the Hammers (if you’ll pardon the pun) line, continued, yet each time Bracknell were repelled.
Alas, as even the magnificent walls of Constantinople were breached, the iron walls of Hurlingham also fell the barbarian hordes of Bracknell. After repeated heavy artillery-esque carries, the ball was swung back against the grain of play and the barbarians of Bracknell breached the sanctity of the Hammers line. The conversion successful, 12-0 Bracknell, (20). Off the restart, the Hammers managed to win a penalty, and after a kick to the corner and a successful lineout, a Douglas Haig-esque drive against a stubborn defensive line occurred with some powerful carries from the proudly Irish Eoin Baker (just look at the name spelling come on), and Turbo Tim Russell bringing the Hammers within reach of the Bracknell line. However due to an injury to a Bracknell forward, no doubt due to the intense collisions on a part of the men in red, the referee stopped the Hammers momentum, allowing a wilting defence some respite. Severa
l scrums later and with a refreshed Bracknell defence allowed some breathing space, despite the best efforts of the Hammers with some powerful Jacob Poulton carries, unfortunately the ball was knocked on, and the hammers push on Moscow came to nothing. This allowed the Bracknell attack to worm its way out from the Hammers grip and push the game back towards the half way line, with some direct running. However the tackling was ferocious, no man from Fulham even countenancing a backward step, with Scott van Berckel and Dan Hostetler putting in some car crash collisions.
With the conditions making the ball as slippery as a bar of soap scrums were aplenty. Just approaching half time, the Hammers backline turned itself into a David Blaine tribute act and produced some magic. Sam Seymour produced a delectable chip in behind which Tim Russell, the best thing to come out of Portsmouth since Charles Dickens, beat his man to before stepping and offloading to Marshall Macleod, who in turn passed back inside to Joe Carolan, who added another notch to the bedpost with another try! This sparked ecstatic celebrations from the Hammers travelling support, with Carolan converting his own try to begin the fightback. 12-7 (37). The Hammers ended the half with the wind in their tails yet still trailing.
The second half began with the Hammers playing down the hill, but into the wind. There was much of a back and forth momentum swing, but the half time team talk delivered by Alain Van West stilled Hammer hearts and stiffened the already near impregnable iron curtain of defence. If Shaun Edwards had been in attendance he would have shed a tear such was the commitment and ‘spirit of the blitz’ attitude of the Hammers defence every time the barbarian hordes of Bracknell approached the citadel that represented the Hammers try line.
Bracknell came out with vicious intent, pounding away at the Hammers line yet the ferocity of the Hammers overcame all. Eventually the pressure against the Hammers told, and the referee blew for a penalty ten metres out in front of the posts. This period of sustained pressure also led the referee to somewhat harshly yellow carding the freshly subbed on Max Dugdale. After having faced brutal collisions and unbowed will, which was leading to Bracknell taking more casualties than a Russian offensive, they opted to save their bodies and kicked for goal. 15-7 (44).
However back came the red wave, unrelenting. They surged forward after some excellent carries from the ever willing Seb Rivett, Thomas Proctor, and the veterans’ veteran (think 3 tours of ‘nam equivalent) Rogan. The Hammers were playing some excellent rugby and were approaching the Bracknell. However unfortunately after another knock on, (conditions) Bracknell managed to survive and put in to their own scrum close to their line. By this stage, Dan Hostetler had unfortunately gone off with injury, but it meant Zak Underwood A.K.A. bomb squad supremo had arrived, to combine with Rogan and Jacob Poulton to form a holy trio of destructive front row power. Against the head, they pulverised the Bracknell front row, leading to hammers ball, which was spun out to the backs with Marshall Macleod (How many mentions) crashing over in the corner. Joe Carolan nails the touchline conversion 15-14 (54).
Back came Bracknell, but they were given nothing. Time was slowly starting to ebb towards the 80th minute and the Hammers found themselves in their own half. However, after some arm wrestling between the two sides, the Hammers recovered a Bracknell kick in their own half and after several phases some more excellent carries from Jacob Poulton (who prepared for the game by watching Masterchef) and Eoin Baker, brought the Hammers up to Bracknell’s ten metre line. There they won a penalty and despite Rogan showing some French flair and attempting a quick tap penalty, the referee called the multitalented prop back to the mark and Hammers duly kicked for touch, with Bracknell receiving a yellow card. Unfortunately, we could not capitalise in the lineout and Bracknell survived, booting the ball into the waiting arms of Max Dugdale, easily distinguishable from Ben, due to him sporting a bright neon-green thermal. The Hammers tried manfully to edge closer towards Bracknell territory however another knock on meant a Bracknell scrum. The clock ticked, full time loomed large. 3 minutes to go.
But, the beast was yet to be unleashed. With the game on the line the Hammers scrum, led by the titans, Rogan, Zak and Mr. E.Y. Parthenon Poulton, dismantled the Bracknell scrum. The Bracknell crowd, sensing the impeding danger repeatedly bleated from the side-lines, with the odd bellowing local screaming ‘BRACKNELL’. Yet it was to no avail.
There was no mercy shown. From one scrum penalty to another, the titanic trio of the front row pushed Bracknell back and back to their own line. Penalty after penalty. The pleas from the crowd begging the all-conquering machine for relief, yet like Cesar crossing the Rubicon our boys sensed victory and pummelled the Bracknell scrum into oblivion.
The clock ticked red.
Another scrum penalty.
This time, the bedraggled Bracknell scrum managed to stay the red tide. Sam Seymour spun the ball to Max Dugdale, some excellent lines from the centres Eoin and Joe, and the ball was shifted to Marshall… Throats clenched, crowd watching on intensely…last play of the match…
Hard line by Marshall…
Cover defence scrambling…
Hammers hearts in mouths…Cue Tim Russell on wraparound….Excellent pass to weedy winger Miles O’Connor who simply touches down in corner (arguably in very effeminate matter) and Try. Cue ecstatic celebrations. Hammers win!
