LES PARAPLUIES de BEECHWOOD

LYMM  29   VALE OF LUNE  7
NORTH TWO WEST

This was to be the day when the romantics would have their wish list fulfilled in the rolling Cheshire countryside, far from the maddening crowd, but near enough to the M6 and Manchester International Airport to remind everyone that behind the walled garden and a sturdy clubhouse with its creaking wooden staircase, an unforgiving world lurked on a wild, dark November afternoon.

Make no mistake it is harsh out there! Already the men, and some women, with twirling moustaches, slicked down hair with partings down the middle, ruddy complexions caused by fondness for the port, have the Vale of Lune tied to the silver rails. Oh! Sir Jasper do not touch me! Silken cords are binding their dainty wrists and well rounded ankles, and in the distance a heaving, snorting locomotive is getting steamed up.

But will there be a fairy tale ending? Will a knight in shining armour appear? Is there some light from the Southern Hemisphere? The wriggling has started to free the bonds in earnest, but the cherry tree has shed its blossom and leaves and is standing bare, not quite alone but vulnerable to the chain saw.

The Panto season is just around the corner, before the final curtain falls a happy ending has usually been contrived. Baron Hardup, Cinders, the Ugly Sisters, Aladdin, Widow Twanky, Buttons are slapping on the make up, ready to tread the boards and lead the audience through a fantasy world where everything turns out right in the end; but enough of the Alies.

For the trip to Lymm the players were bright eyed and bushy tailed, the vibes felt right, anticipation was in the air. Unusually the Alies arrived in dribs and drabs. One was struggling with an evening of whisky tasting, another had problems with his neck and appeared to be rehearsing for the part of Quasimodo, and then there were a couple of late arrivals. The Major swept through the gates like a galleon in full sail, shirt open at the neck, arms waving. Cumpst asked for an extension of the leaving time because he had been putting out the flags and post protectors and thought that 11.15 on the team shett really meant 11.30; didn't he Sutty!

'Mr Ready Cut 1962' all rippling muscles and his own latch hook, made up for holding everyone up by producing an in flight meal of the highest quality as we approached The Tickled Trout. A bottle of cheeky red wine was allowed to breathe before being transferred to a collectors item of Millennium cardboard cups. Next followed a selection of sandwiches, cheese and onion, egg and cress, but the Diggles meat pie perfectly complimented the wine.

Light traffic on the M6 ensured an early arrival, not always a good idea for those who have enjoyed Lymm hospitality. However, Gerald had sorted out a kitty and ordered the first round before the usual suspects arrived, Tommy, Jim, Keith, Peter and John. Everything picked up a gear, although the Press Secretary was taken aback when he returned after delivering the match card to the referee to find Gilly astride Peter M. Something to do with eye drops was the muffled reply, ah well!!

Confusion reigned as regards the kick off time, 2.30 or 2.15, the alert President had noted some movement below stairs so it became a case of downing the pints and out into the inclement weather.

Overall it was a pleasing half for the Vale, their only real blemish being when Lymm were gifted a converted try after a failure to deal with a speculative kick down field. Lymm were first to hit the straps at the start of the second half rattling in two tries in the opening four minutes. Looking quite shell shocked the Vale conceded another unconverted try in the fifty fifth minute.
Such a bombardment hinted at another repeat of the Stockport game, but to their credit the Vale regrouped and took the game to Lymm, no easy matter going up the slope. Andy Sutcliffe scored a splendid try after a quickly taken tap penalty had Lymm on the retreat. Andy Garnett converted but the gap was too large to bridge and a well organised Lymm side added a late converted try to their total.

In the meantime the Major had further problems with his clothing muttering something about 'the cords bulging a bit' as he staggered off in search of the urinals.
Back in the clubhouse, once the Press Secretary had confirmed the final score, some doubts had arisen, it was time to settle back, relax and let the hospitality of Lymm wash over everyone. Jim Knowles, Lymm's Chairman of Ground, sent the Vale on their way with a brainteaser. 'How can you mark out a pitch starting and ending at the same point, without repeating yourself, and with an empty line marker?

Pondering on this conundrum the Alies tackled one of President Phil's trivia tests which tested most of the group, although Gilly, who had proclaimed that his general knowledge outweighed the rest of the Alies put together. Unfortunately some of the questions were outside his knowledge range!
At Galgate, Cumpst stomped off into the night in a huff, and Gilly lost his umbrella; a sad day all round, not least because it could be the last visit to Lymm for a while, pass me the lamp Aladdin!

VALE OF LUNE:  J.Bryan, A.Macluskie, A.Garnett, I.Bird (Capt), A.Richards, O.Hughes, J.Hodder, P.Jackson (Rep D.Halliwell 60), G.Barton, A.Sutcliffe, L.Acton, L.Farnworth, J.Clarkson, D.Lin, M.Fowler (Rep M.Mudd 57, rep S.Warrington 75)