St Bernard loses the scent!

St Bernard loses the scent!

Northampton V Worcester Warriors

            The day started auspiciously when Martyn announced that he had found his hat. It had been mislaid since the end of last season, but he was wearing it now.  Perhaps our luck would change.  Certainly, we were all looking forward to going to Franklin’s Gardens: a famous club, an excellent ground, friendly supporters who post welcoming messages on our website, a chance to watch England v South Africa later in the day.  Never mind that everyone, from The Rugby Times to the deadly duo of Barnes and Morris, was predicting a Worcester defeat.

            The journey to Northampton was pleasantly trouble-free and Kevin, our driver, found the stadium without difficulty.  Our initial reception from rather officious stewards who seemed unprepared for supporters’ coaches took us by surprise, but this was soon forgotten once we were inside the ground and entered the world of the Northampton fans.  Thank you Saints supporters.  We thought you ranked at the top, alongside London Irish in terms of your welcome.

            Franklin’s Gardens did not disappoint.  It must be the most impressive club-owned rugby ground in England. There are large bars, plenty of toilets and “The Village” consisting of a range of food outlets, a shop and a tented bar. (No Prisoners here I’m glad to say!)  Towering over the ground, and visible for miles around, is a grey, pencil-thin, concrete tube: the tallest listed building in England, built to test the efficiency and safety of lifts.

            Inside the stadium, we admired the lawn-like quality of the playing surface. The Warriors were warming-up.  Our shout to André Van Niekerk brought a wave and a punch in the air – he was certainly fired-up.  We were surprised to see our boys sporting pale blue socks and shorts (very short in Tim Collier’s case) which matched the light blue shirts that they wore for the game. It gave them a very well-scrubbed appearance, quite unlike the scarlet away strip. Would the new look, we wondered, bring them better luck?

            Leaving pitch-side, we made our way to the well-stocked shop to buy a pin badge. As I contemplated the range of furry Saint (Bernard) mascots, it occurred to me that we have missed a marketing opportunity. I can’t imagine buying a stuffed Maximus for Father Christmas to bring to a “minimus” Worcester supporter. The young man serving behind the counter wished us luck: “Hope you win; we might get a new coach then”.  We were taken aback, but it was a sentiment that was to be repeated to us on several occasions during the day.

            As we wandered around the ground admiring the facilities, friendly Saints supporters were happy to chat.  They were generous in their encouragement, showing a surprising knowledge of our achievements both this season and in previous years.  Northampton’s links with Bedford mean that they keep in touch with National One, while it is obvious that our more recent performances, against Bath and Gloucester in particular, have not gone unnoticed.  Even last week’s débâcle against Leicester was felt by these fans to be unsurprising given the quality and experience of our opposition.

            Their views on their own predicament were far less positive.  “Too many South Africans looking to increase their pensions…Good players last season are suddenly poor players now…Corne Krige drove away Matt Dawson…The only thing that has changed since last year is the coach…I won’t buy a season ticket again unless things change.”  These weren’t fair weather supporters, but real enthusiasts who cared about their club and were feeling bewildered by the unaccustomed defeats.

            We were struck, yet again, by the strong division which seems to exist in the ZP between the “city slicker” image of Bath, Harlequins, Wasps and, perhaps, Rob Andrew, and the “grass roots” attitude of the rest of the clubs.  At every ground we have visited so far, we have been greeted as a welcome addition to the Premiership because of our tenacity, quality of play, geographical location and level of travelling support.  It seems that we have many supporters around the country who would like to see us stay up as an answer to the minority of clubs who want to preserve their own position and financial advantages at all costs.

            Taking our seats in the corner of the Church’s (Quality English Shoes) Stand, we looked around at the massed ranks of green, gold and black: well over 11,000 in the crowd, matching the numbers present at contests here with London Irish, Llanelli and Sale.  No dancing girls, but impressive electronic scoreboards and a cheeky “Bernie, the St Bernard” mascot who worked the crowd.  Saints fans are partisan and enthusiastic, giving voice to rousing bursts of “When the Saints go Marching In”, but maintaining absolute silence for kicks. The Saints on the terraces, however, found that the Worcester fans in the crowd showed as much spirit as the Warriors did on the pitch.  With the Blues and Golds massed in two large blocks at one end of the ground, we were able to set up stereophonic chants of “War-ri-ors” which seemed to silence the saintly singing.  As the balance of the game shifted in our favour, so did the intensity of the vocal support. At last we had something to shout about!

            About 10 minutes before the end of the game, the trickle of Saints’ supporters leaving early turned into a minor flood.  “When the Saints go Marching Home…” sang the gleeful Worcester crowd and, “I’d rather be a Warrior than a Saint...”  It was said with joy rather than malice and many of the departing fans waved good-bye and shouted “Good luck” as they left, but they raised their eyes to heaven when the PA announcer reminded them of their forthcoming Heineken fixture against Toulouse.  “Well done, you deserve the win,” said one fan to us. “You wanted it more than us and you played well.  Sanderson is your greatest asset, he really leads by example.”

            As the match ended, there was joy unbounded on the field and in the stands.  The players’ faces showed delight, relief and exhaustion.  The sight of John Brain bear-hugging Tim Collier said it all, as he and Andy Keast showed their pride in their players.  At last, our team felt able to receive the plaudits of their supporters and we, in turn, gave them a standing ovation.  We could have hugged them all.  The ghosts of the last three games have been well and truly laid to rest and the Warriors are on the march.

Watch out Wasps!

RT