And so whilst holidaying in Spain for two weeks before I sent our resident Bob Hoskins look alike, Golly, an email saying if I am allowed I would like to play.  After knee surgery, I prepared for my first rugby in just over a year and promptly lost 3kgs. I was getting quite excited and nothing could stop me playing – not even my brother being taken gravely ill and rushed to hospital. I opted to fly back as scheduled so I could play in the 7s.

I turned up on Saturday morning, having chosen to miss the Friday night lash. I knew James was an excitable man when it comes to rugby and so I was pleased to see the DW camp site sporting his huge erection – a gazebo, massive tent a family of 10 could stand up in, a BBQ, fridge and playing kit for us all. I sought out the No.8 shirt as homage to the great man and I am sure if he were playing he would seek out a no. 1 or no. 3 shirt to return the favour.

Half an hour before our first game, skipper James Gurney announced it was time to warm up. Stew the Kiwi smiled as he reached for his toilet roll and strode off towards the club house for his own pre-game ritual. Some light jogging the width of the pitch induced near myocardial infarction on many of us and so stretching was taken up instead. A starting 7 was selected based on who was stretching nearest James and out we strode for our first game against the Arabian Knights, comprised of Sarries supporters.

Skin tight kit, 10 sponsors (onlybetrugby.com being emblazoned across the midriff) and matching shorts were a worrying sign. We received kick off and any doubts we privately had about this side being any good were put to rest as Captain Wasp caught, jinked and ran in our first try. A solid team effort of clapping him in and shouting “dive” was much appreciated, I am sure. The Fez-Heads suddenly got serious. The first scrum I found my opponents head in my chest, his hand on my leg lifting me up. Very un-7s like and certainly un-Fat Blokes 7s like.  We promptly went on to lose 28-12, Captain getting our second try in the last play of the game.

Litres of water were our reward for that effort, as well as watching the Bristol Pasty Eaters. 7 blokes (they had 1 sub) in dungarees rolled out onto the pitch; their entourage sang a song whilst the opposition and referee necked a pint of their farmhouse cider, the whistle blows and its game on. Or is it? They lost every game bar one convincingly, their only draw coming when the whole crowd set up the classic 90-man rolling maul. Any try scorers were reprimanded and removed from the field of play by their manager and even with a step ladder they still didn’t win a line out all day.  At this point I tried to suggest we run through some set plays off of scrums, maybe do some lineout technique or select our team to play Irish’s Flatulent Fairies next.  If looks could kill…

I thought we could beat Irish. I made way for our no. 3 Keenan in the front row for this one and my winning ambitions were confirmed when he ran in a 20m effort to score under the posts. A break away from James followed and another individual effort from Captain Wasp gave us a 21-0 lead until Eek barrelled in a try “for banter”. In all fairness to Fairies we had been playing 6 v 7 as Eek takes to the field with a pint and a fag in hand. He would simply let the ball drop to the ground whenever it came near him. But, just as his cigarette was over, and before he could light a new one, Dom through an aberrant pass which Eek intercepted and rolled to the goal line.  21-7 at half time.

A new VII emerged in the second half. And they were good. One player was so serious he decided to throw punches at a member of the Squittus family (they look very alike!).  He rated himself for the crash ball 5m out, and we were all worried, but then he dropped it! A mental victory to the DWs there.  Anyway, in the end, we lost!

Leeds Lardies were not as you might expect. Prior to their “Ee bah gum” Haka, we had heard rumours that two of their players were about 18 and in the Leeds academy. One of them, a prop I think, stole my thunder as he ran in a hat trick and did silly flips and turns as he ran them in. Again, despite out best efforts and some thundering runs from our resident Kiwi, some clever kicking by Mel and some whingeing by an injured and sidelined Golly, we lost.

Our efforts weren’t helped by “Halil Kebab” showing up during our game and setting up their equipment during the game. And our “Cipriani”, as he was nicknamed, was injured. A sprained ankle keeping his efforts subdued somewhat.

Bristol presented us with a sure win, and a thoughtfully generous pre-match slug of zyder! After teams scored their fourth try against the Pasty Eaters any Flatulent Fairies who were bored would run on and assist Brizzle. So we knew we had to score a few tries early on and then try and keep that lead as we played against 30 men.

Tries from Mel, James and your correspondent gave the DWs such a lead. Against the Irish/Briz combo we maintained this lead and won. No thanks go to a DW dressed in Berkshire Society clothing, however, who disallowed Captain two further tries with the rationale “You're just being greedy. There are blokes on this pitch three times your weight, who'd love to score.”   Fair enough.

The shoes and boots came off; we found some chairs and sat about complaining about how much pain we were in until a more pressing matter came to our attention – where do we need to finish in the group not to go through to any knockout games!  We hatched a plan which had to be seen to be believed.  The Worcester game was a complete whitewash. All of our best players, which was just Captain Wasp, and the other 6 DWs secreted Wobblers shirts under their black & gold numbers. Two scores down, Stu gave a mighty report of "99!". Off came the black shirts and, colours swapped, the DWs played for them. The sight of 7 discarded jerseys strewn over one half of the pitch was surreal, as if the incumbants had spirited themselves off to the bar in the blink of an eye!

Needless to say, Captain Wasp, now in blue, caught the restart and scored under his own posts. A repeat performance led to Wobblers' 4th try, and Lardies repaired to the bar, safe in the knowledge that they would not be required in the semis. Local laws were amended and 2 eleven year olds [joined] the action, and both ran the old men ragged.  It was a fitting finale to a fine day.

We may have only won one game but to play care-free rugby, with a smile is something you cannot guarantee in a game of 15s.  The event was only just getting started as the evening rolled in.  But as people had to leave their homes to participate, and it was rugby related, it is a sort of tour. And what goes on tour…

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