By Chief Chopper
November 15 2011
Chief Chopper travels with the players to Perpignan and back.
Travels with The Chiefs
by Chief Chopper
In the Chiefs first season of continental rugby Bourgoin was on offer, followed by Montpellier; having experienced the latter, and having had an amazing time we realised that early booking was the cheapest way to go and as soon as the fixtures were announced, the bookings were made.
After an easy trip to Bristol airport, not the Rolls Royce executive travel option for “our boys” but squashed in easy jet cattle class budget option with the rest of us, and whilst being friendly and approachable, they had a professional steely eyed focus on the game ahead.
Going our separate ways at the airport, we made our way to Perpignan to meet up with fellow travelling friends met on the last trip and like last season, despite searching hard to find the legendary surly, uncommunicative English hating locals, we failed miserably. The welcome and generosity from restaurants and the Perpignan Supporters Club was unbelievable and left all of us thinking how would it be possible to reciprocate their gifts of t-shirts, flags, neckerchiefs, scarves, food and wine?
Gathering in their club (lock up garage) house we all walked to the ground together, this is not football.
The match is a hard fought affair and after the first quarter the Chiefs are looking good and the vociferous home team support has been dampened but by 40mins Perpignan are closer and within a few minutes of the 2nd half they have moved ahead. The travelling Tribe self-corralled in their corner do their best to raise our team but despite a huge effort on the field we fall short.
With sorrows dampened we head back to the “club house” to complete the drowning, despite sopping with BBQ courtesy of the opposition, we achieve the desired effect.
With the autopsy complete we head for bed, then back to Barcelona airport the following day.
Once again we travel with the team who show great disappointment at a missed opportunity, and quietly showing the deserved effects of anaesthetic after the bruising encounter.
I’ve now been to 2 big away French trips and we have lost them both, just don’t tell anyone my name; I want to go to Prato.