By simonh
September 5 2005

You are a competent cat-burglar. You’ve carried out a handful of jobs recently with good success and netted some impressive bags of swag. You’ve planned your next caper meticulously – a smart house in the suburbs.

The big night. You’re feeling good as you quietly jemmy open the window and lower yourself into the living room.

But then it all starts to go wrong. Your hands are like hams; you drop the torch and crash into furniture.

A light goes on. The owner is standing there with a baseball bat and starts to lay into you (you’re allowed to do that now, you know). You’re getting clubbed to submission, but somehow you break free, rush for the open window and dive out, grabbing a valuable-looking vase on the way. You later flog it to your fence for a fiver.

 

A result? Of sorts. You didn’t get caught, you turned a small profit. But you left behind your dignity and you realise you have some way to go before you can count yourself in the big league.

 

There you have it then. Tykes went to Worcester with high hopes on the back of a string of good wins. It was never going to be easy, but on the night the home side were lying in wait. They wanted it more, and roared on by a packed Sixways they saw off a lacklustre, hamfisted and amateurish challenge from the Yorkshire team.

 

If Worcester had a more clinical edge to their finishing they would have ended the game 20 points clear. That Tykes managed to steal a bonus point out of this was down to a large slice of good fortune, poor attacking options by the hosts and characteristically dogged defence.

 

The Warriors signalled their intent for the kick-off. Winning a penalty immediately after the start just behind their own 10 metre line. Their fly-half James Brown attempted the goal, but it dropped tantalisingly short. But the home side turned the screw and within four minutes had another penalty. They kicked for the corner and powered over with a textbook catch-and-drive from the lineout. Brown converted.

 

Four minutes gone: Warriors 7, Tykes 0.

 

Tykes soaked up further pressure, but a rare foray into Warrior’s territory on 9 minutes brought a penalty for the visitors which Stimpson converted, taking the score to 7-3.

 

From that point it was all Worcester. Their lineout was sound as a pound, ours was all over the place. We got no advantage in the set scrum, they pushed us in the mauls. Almost all the subsequent play took place within the Leeds’ 22. It was painful to watch. The Warriors slipped into a nice groove early on; Tykes had no ball and could stamp no pattern or rhythm on the game. As the only other Tykes fan I saw (he assured me ‘there are eight of us’) said, “It’s going to be a long night.”

 

Even when Tykes did win ball, they kindly handed it straight back again via penalties, knock-ons or aimless kicks down the field.

 

Relentless pressure from the home team gave Brown a drop goal on 24 minutes, increasing the Warrior’s lead to 10-3.

 

At the restart Tykes made their only meaningful attack of the half, sending the ball wide a couple of times close to the home side’s 22, and were eventually given a penalty. Stimpson pulled it across the posts.

 

Further miskicks kept the Warriors agonisingly close to the Tykes line, and on 34 minutes Brown coolly slotted his second drop goal to the delight of the 8413 home fans (remember, eight of us were Leeds supporters, bringing the total to gate to an impressive 8421).

 

Warriors 13, Tykes 3.

 

A minute later Tykes were given a penalty following a ruck close to the half way line. At last, we thought, we can get a bit of relief. But then we saw a scuffle on the ground, and would you believe it Richard Parks was shown the yellow card. The boy needs anger management lessons. He is becoming a liability.

 

Anyhow, Warriors gleefully accepted their one-man advantage to pummel Tykes again at the lineout. The reward was a penalty on 39 minutes which Brown converted to make the half-time score 16-3.

 

What we need, I says to the missus during the break, is a quick score after the break or we is doomed.

 

What happened next was this. We kicked off the second half with a deep, high drop into their 22. Dickens chased like a terrier when the Wuss defence dithered. Our no. 9 hurled himself at their kicker, the ball ballooned up off him (Dicko) who kept his head, watched it come down, caught it, ran for the line and fed Snyman who was supporting intelligently. The big Bok dabbed it down in the corner. Stimpson missed the conversion, but it was the score we needed to keep us in the game.

 

Forty-one minutes: Worcester 16, Tykes 8.

 

On 47 minutes Shelley limped off to be replaced by Fullman. Warriors soon got back into the groove and continued to punish Tykes in the lineout and maul. On 54 minutes Tykes were twice pulled up for collapsing mauls and were warned by the ref. On four occasions Worcester kicked for the corner, but somehow we kept them at bay. Our defence remained solid and the home side’s lack of a sharp cutting edge kept them spinning the ball across the pitch one way then the other without breaching the line.

 

Hooper came on for Murphy and Rees for Bell on 59 minutes. Tyke’s desperate defending eventually won them a penalty in their 22. Stimpson applied his howitzer boot to the ball. It sailed high into the Midland’s night, but infuriatingly failed to find touch. Instead it landed deep in the Warriors’ 22. The defence was sluggish, dithered a bit before going for the clearance. Stimpson, however, had set off like a greyhound to retrieve his wayward kick. He charged the ball down and it bobbled to within a foot of the Worcester line. Stimpson chased it, slid up to it, fumbled, knocking the ball on over the line before putting his hands on it.

 

So near yet so far! Oh dear Lord can’t we have just one break? Hang on, what’s this? Mr Pearson came puffing up, looked over to his linesman then raised his arm. Try.

 

Now that is what you call a stroke of good fortune. Stimpson converted and suddenly the score was an outrageous 16-15.

 

But that was as far as it went for Tykes. Back to defending, or else knocking on every time we got some kind of momentum going. On 72 minutes Uys came on for Rigney. We found ourselves pegged back between half way and the ten metre line; given that in the first half all the action had taken place in our 22, I suppose that was progress of some sort.

 

Anyway, Worcester kept their heads and penalties from Brown on 75 minutes and again four minutes into injury time kept their noses in front. Regan got binned just before the whistle.

 

So, final score Wuss 22, Tykes 15.

 

The fact that we came out of this mess with a bonus point is nothing short of a small miracle. This was never going to be an easy game – Worcester are no mugs.

 

But all the good work of the past few weeks seems to have gone, like our bumbling cat burglar, out of the window and into the night.

 

 

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