By Little Stinger
February 23 2004

If you recall, upon my return from Calvisano I was to be accompanied on the next two Heineken away weekends. Tiniest Stinger came with me to the Celtic Warriors game and now it was the turn of his elder brother, Tiny Stinger, to make the trek to Perpignan. When Barmy Kev states that he is looking forward to reading the tour report when we are in the check in queue for the OUTWARD flight you can see there was a lot of anticipation for this weekend.

In the same queue I had cause to remove an item from our main baggage whereupon the medicinal trunk packed by Mrs S to cover all known medical emergencies was displayed to all and sundry. Sleepy Pete pipes up “Where are the condoms?” - next thing we all hear is a small voice “Dad, what are C……’s?”. Tiny will have a growing up weekend.

The flight leaves on time and arrives early in Girona, so after a small delay waiting for the coach we embark and head for the border. Entrepreneur Gurney does some business on the mobile, selling DW hip flasks to those on the back of the same bus!!

Hotels are located and after a very efficient check in we dump off the bags and head to Chez Imbernon for a beer and watch the Leicester v Stade game. Warren, Shawn and several players were already sat down to watch possible quarterfinal opponents.

Post match we head across the river to an Italian restaurant for pizza and pasta. Whilst Tiny has his French vocabulary extended by PhiltheB, Kev and myself chat to a local resident who kindly offered to give us a guided tour of the countryside around Perpignan in his mini. This offer was however withdrawn when he was informed that there were fifty of us in our party.

At around 12.30 Tiny and myself head back to the Mondial to leave the DW’s to explore the bars around town.

Up bright and early for breakfast (children are a great hangover cure) and head into town for a wander on a chill January morning. It was apparent that Tiny had got on well with Phil the night before and we head back to the hotel to see if KevtheB and PhiltheB wanted some company.

The weather was already warming up, as were the locals who were out in force to demonstrate against a proposed power station. After visiting the USAP shop to purchase berets, mini rugby balls etc. we do the “culture”, comprising the cathedral and tour of the defensive wall that was still standing (Note for Warren Gatland; the cow bells are on the second floor, unfortunately we couldn’t get them out of the glass case).

Tiny tops up on burger and chips prior to a chocolate muffin walking through the narrow streets of the old town to the palace of the Majorcan Kings This walk would also appear to be a favourite with the local dog walkers hence the re-christening of the town as “Poopignan”.

Having walked through the winding passage which takes you up to the main part of the palace, and being chastised for not immediately purchasing our entrance tickets, we made our way to the top of the tower to enjoy some stupendous views of the Pyrenees.

Returning to Chez Imbernon to watch the Toulouse v Edinburgh match (to which a small party of DW’s had travelled three hours by train to watch ‘live’) on a now beautifully warm sunny afternoon (while it was raining in Toulouse) we spotted most of the Wasps squad wandering through the town. They were all more than happy to chat and sign autographs and I know of at least one Tiny that has a shirt (and a ball for Tiniest) with all of his heroes’ signatures. (Thank you guys, it made an already special weekend extra special for both of them).

We grabbed some seats in the backroom to be joined shortly afterwards by BigT, Rob Howley et al to watch as well. Tiny and Phil had coke, lemonade and ice creams whilst the rest of us made do with beer. The place was packed to the rafters and is the only bar I know of where the queue for the bar is shorter than that for the loo.

When the match finished the drinkers dispersed to prepare themselves for the evening ahead whilst we headed for an early dinner to ensure Tiny and Phil did not starve to death. Much pizza and pasta was consumed, together with a little red wine of course, prior to us returning to the café for some further liquid sustenance. However as Tiny was beginning to tire and it was already after midnight ;-) we retired to leave the rest to entertain the Sky rugby TV crew and to swap flags for beers with M. Imbernon himself (Skippy; don’t move into the second hand car market).

Breakfast two days in a row - this was a first for me on a DW tour.

As many were still in bed, Tiny and I walked to the railway station to admire the ceiling painted by a certain Salvado Dali. This made no impression on Tiny at all as he wanted to team up with Phil and get some serious Top Trump games going.

A walk through a very quiet Perpignan and back to the hotel for a noon pick up by the coach to take us straight to the ground. A few locals were there to greet us and they appeared to be a friendly bunch. The security around the ground was tight - no bottles of any description could be taken into the ground and even the stick for my flag was confiscated (though the locals managed to get theirs inside). Beer, sandwiches, and soft drinks purchased and our DW flag hung from the ceiling next to Daisy the cow to let the locals know exactly where we were.

Half an hour before kickoff we move to the stands to watch the boys go through their warm up routine and re hang the flags over the advertising hoardings, much to the annoyance of a particular USAP supporter (a 60 -70 year old granny also known as the Wicked Witch of the West, poisoner of Snow White etc) who did her best for the next hour to pull Waspie Vegas’ flag down. She only gave up after being berated by the locals.

It was shirt sleeve weather, however that was the only warmth in the welcome given in this part of France. These partisan, passionate supporters gave our guys the bird big time (makes the Celtic Warrior booing sound like quiet conversation over a cucumber sandwich) and their own players huge cheers. Sleepy Pete has now contacted the USAP flag making company and has placed an order for two new DW flags, each the size of the Vere Suite floor area, and we are contacting Homepride for the flour to throw into the air when the team take the pitch.

It was always going to be a hard match, but when Alex keeled over with that leg injury within the first two minutes it was not going to get any easier. No one was expecting pretty rugby but the sheer physicality of this confrontation was compulsive viewing. Needless to say there were several USAP players to stand in for Monsieur Porcu (who was still serving his ban for punching the Warriors players) prepared to mix it with the Wasps players. The first blood injury was to BigT, quickly followed by Joe having to leave the pitch for a cut head. It was surprising that only one player (the USAP fullback) was carried off on a stretcher.

In brief this was probably the most physical Wasps match I have seen. As demonstrated by five players subsequently cited for twelve ‘incidents’.

Some ten minutes before the end the security moved to the edge of the pitch to keep the fans back, despite the fact that they were already behind an eight foot security fence. Alan Lewis escaped quickly to don the disguise he arrived in to make a fast escape. If he had yellow (or even red carded) a USAP player I don’t think they would have let him out of the country, well not alive!

A fantastic win was roundly applauded by USAP and Wasp’s fans alike. Gizzy was the man of the match, despite the stadium announcer advising this honour belonged to BigT (well you could easily mix them up).

As we retire to the clubhouse under the main stand for a liquid top up many home supporters offered their hand and congratulated us on the win. These people LOVE their rugby and were genuine in their plaudits.

One of our female number then pedals the official USAP bike round the bars prior to us moving to the players exit to complete the set of autographs on Tiny’s shirt. Unwanted Heineken is then produced from the players’ dressing room to be shared amongst Wasps and USAP fans alike.

It was soon back on the coach to take us to Girona and the songs began to fill the air, from the back of the bus of course. It was a wonder that Tiny did not ask further questions at this stage, such as “I did not know Yogi had so many friends” or “You can buy all those items in one shop?”

We leave Girona on time and plant the under carriage into the Stansted tarmac two hours later. Thankfully the only thing that crashed on the drive home was Tiny falling asleep.

Bring on the shedheads.