British Buddies

Friday night was a perfect night to go out to the pubs. It was also a perfect night to go for a long walk around the city. We did both

We enjoyed our walk which included stops along the River Corrib at the Spanish Arch, and Claddagh area. We weren’t alone either as people seem to come out of the woodwork and hang out by the river on days like this one. It stays light until 9:30!!

After our walk and time outside we settled in to Taaffe’s Pub on Shop Street. Its one of our favorites as it offers trad sessions every night at 9 30. We hadn’t heard good music for a while so needless to say we were in the mood. The band didn’t disappoint, playing old favorites like Whiskey in the Jar and Fields of Athenry.

Towards the end of the night we started talking to the group of men next to us. They were nice fellows who felt bad for slowly by slowly boxing us in to a small corner. We didn’t mind because we had a drink in our hand and clean line of site to the band but they insisted on buying us a drink, and who were we to refuse. An hour later we had met a handful of their crew, all characters to boot. They were on Rugby tour and had a match scheduled for Saturday at 3. The team was intriguing to us as they consisted of youngins in their late teens to veterans in their 60’s. They were here from the Isle of Wight, a small island in south central England. It’s mentioned in the Beatles song “When I’m 64” in case you were wondering where you might have heard of it before. We were invited to their game and we pass this up as this would be our first chance to see a live rugby game.

Saturday was beautiful. We rode into town and the Saturday market was well under way. We sauntered around the city stopping off at our favorite bakery called the Oven Door, which by the way, I’m sure is what heaven smells like.

A little while after arriving at the pitch, the team arrived in full Blues Brother attire: The suits, the shades, the attitude. They were lacking 3 players however. Somehow in a group of 35 guys they couldn’t get 15 players together to make a full side. Perhaps after 40 years of rugby one’s body revolts even against the word “rugby”. So with a bunch of beer-bellied, arthritic bodies out the field, we witnessed our first live match. It was back and forth but managed to stay low scoring. We happened to sit next to the coach so he gave us a more thorough lesson on the intricacies of rugby (i.e., when is a “line out” yours, when it’s good to kick the ball, and why does it look the guys in the scrum are holding on to each others crotches, you know, that kind of stuff…). After their not-too-disappointing loss we stayed for a pint with the team and chatted it up until saying our goodbyes.

We finally have a really live rugby match under our new Irish belts, Hurling and Gaelic football will have to be next.

So, that’s the story of how we met the Rugby club from the Isle of Wight. Not bad right.
`Till next time, alright?