By Mark H
June 15 2003

A decision made in early August 2002 saw me saying to myself that this was the season that I would attempt to get to every Saints game in the normal season (and before anyone quibbles, I found out about the two pre-season games in France too late to book holiday off. Every young man has a rite of passage. For some, it’s their first pint of beer at the age of 11; for others, their first girlfriend (one day my princess will come - ok, she probably won’t, but I can hope). A decision made in early August 2002 saw me saying to myself that this was the season that I would attempt to get to every Saints game in the normal season (and before anyone quibbles, I found out about the two pre-season games in France too late to book holiday off. The following ten months would see me watching Saints on 18 different grounds across Europe, having a great deal of fun, drinking some very…interesting…beers, and watching some rugby along the way.

It all started at Bedford on Friday 9th August, and a match split into four twenty minute quarters. The first sight of Oriol Ripol in a Saints shirt was seeing him flattened at pace by a prop and a lock, but bouncing up and continuing his run. At that point, we thought that we may have someone a bit special here. Next day, a hellish trip to Henley for their sevens tournament, and an academy team lasted precisely fourteen minutes in the main competition, and another fourteen minutes in the Plate.

One week on and the first trip to Twickenham of the season for the Middlesex Sevens, deservedly won by Bradford Bulls, but featuring Saints going out to Irish in the quarter finals. There was also the chance to say a proper farewell to Joe Shaw, who had just joined Newcastle, and continuing a trend started in the league game at Bristol the previous May. As a result, screams of “Come on Joe” every time he got the ball went from just two of us screaming in in their first round defeat, to virtually the whole corner of the East Stand (including some confused Sarries who were asking which one Joe was) screaming it by the time they won the Plate. When he went over in our corner to score a try in that final, it just got louder, and the fact that he then came over to applaud us all first at the end of the game just made it a little bit more special.

I also ended up sitting in front of someone who told me that she was the physio at Lutterworth Rugby Club (I have a friend whose husband plays for them), and we ended up talking through a lot of what was a baking hot afternoon. But more of her later…

On Saturday 24th August, we got our first view of the new Franklin’s Gardens, in the final pre-season game against Stade Francais. Even though the new Church’s Stand wasn’t yet open to the public, you could see that Uncle Keith’s vision was complete. How sweet it was then for the new ground to have a cracker of a game to start off with, a 33 all draw against the team who as I write this are the favourites for the French championship. It boded well for the new season…

We probably could have done without a Friday night start at Sale, the team who had come third in 2001-02, and who possessed the most exciting back division in the English game. Little did we know at that point either that it would be our last visit to Heywood Road with the newly renamed Sharks upping sticks and moving to Stockport by the end of the season. However, when Ben went over for an early try we thought that all our birthdays had come at once, and with Jason Robinson being made to look ineffective, it was a promising start. Sharks (sorry, no, can’t say that, it is, it was, and always will be Sale) are definitely not a one man team though, and late into injury time Saints trailed 21-16 before the man who quickly became known, much to his chagrin, as Raspberry, went over in the corner. As the referee appeared to signal that time was up, Grays, making his 200th appearance for the club, just failed with the conversion. The next ninety seconds seemed to sum up a lot of the annoying things about Saints for the whole season. For a start, we didn’t get the final whistle. Then the ball wasn’t secured at the kick off. Then, and almost inevitably, Charlie Hodgson slotted over a quite brilliant drop goal from 40 metres with the last kick to win the game 24-21. Absolutely gutting, but it wouldn’t be the last time Saints were to lose to the last kick of a game.

And finally on Sale, a few words about their floodlights. 40 watt light bulbs should just about sum them up.

September brought the Sky cameras, Lardy, the Florist et al to the fully open FG to see Saints take on Newcastle. A comfortable 31-13 victory followed, but the response on the site was one of disappointment as the Geordies were really there to be put away. The game did bring a comeback try for Sleights though, and the aforementioned Joe Shaw being left clutching air by Wally and most memorably Oriol, who ran round six covering Falcons before just failing to finish off what would have been the most memorable try seen at the Gardens for a long time.

The following Sunday, and one of my favourite trips, down to Bristol. Saints kept up Bristol’s shocking average of conceding 36 points per game in the 36-28 win, but it has to be said that but for a shocking decision by referee Ashley Rowden, when he disallowed a Bristol try as being held up when it had clearly been grounded, kind of made up for that ninety seconds at Sale. Indeed, when we asked him about it after the game, he just said “remember that next time I come to Northampton”. Unfortunately, he was to have his revenge a fortnight later.

And the pasties at Bris are still supreme…

Saturday 21st September. My favourite day of the season, bar none - the day of the first COYSDC get together in Heroes, superbly organised by Saintsby, and it was funny as we all seemed to go through the door not knowing what and who we were going to find. I think the friendships and acquaintances we made that day have brought us all together as a web community, and although it may appear cliquey, it’s not intentional - no-one’s excluded, everyone can join in, and I know that on a personal level I met people that day who will remain friends until I’m not on this planet any more.

And that doesn’t mean a trip to Planet Lom…

The visitors on that scorching hot day were Bath, and a supreme first half performance led to Saints going in 19-0 up at half time with three tries already on the board. It was also the first game back for David McHugh after his tussle with an overweight South African fan in their match against the All Blacks, and he certainly seemed to be feeling his way back into top class rugby again, as Saints were continually penalised in the second half. Combine this with an improved Bath defence, and it took until the 79th minute for Ben to go over in the corner and secure the first try bonus point of the season, and confirm a 24-3 victory. In fairness Bath were poor, but after scoring three tries two weeks running, I think we as supporters would have started questioning the clinical nature of the team had they missed out again.

Sky cameras again, but this time at Vicarage Road for the trip to Sarries. It was to prove a bad day, with Saints going behind to a second minute try, and despite drawing level at 16 all early in the second half from a superb Bealer try, the consistent boot of Andy Goode - both from penalties and drop goals - and a disallowed Tom Smith try for the ball being held up when it certainly appeared to have been grounded (disallowed, incidentally, by the touch judge - one Ashley Rowden), meant that it wasn’t going to be our day, going down 31-19 and giving Lardy Barnes more opportunity to slag Saints off. The one high spot of the day was getting back on the coach with my mate Gary, who was absolutely berated and blamed for the defeat by a couple of angry female fans. His crime? Wearing the purple shirt from the cup final…

October always looked when the fixture list was announced to be the hardest month of the pre-Christmas period. Trips to London Irish and Biarritz were to be preceded by the visit of Ulster, and on the 5th, Wasps. Little were we to know that the Wasps game, whilst bringing another three try performance, would also provide possible the most intense league performance of the season. Daws set the tone by giving Dillydallyo a gentle slap early on, and the rest of the team responded by giving the Wycombe Wasps a hefty thump. The final score of 34-20 did not reflect fully the performance given - FG was jumping that afternoon and didn’t we let the team know it! Tries from Sleights (in the second minutes, Deso and Big Swill, with Larry adding the rest put a marker down for the rest of the season. Granted, Wasps lost Howley, Shaw and Dowd in the first fifteen minutes, but nothing should detract from a splendid team effort which set up the first foray into Europe nicely.

Just for a change (not), TV had its way with the kick off time for the Ulster match, the first of the pool matches for Saints in what had been kindly described as the group of death, and altered it to 4.30p.m. on a Sunday afternoon. In what could only be described as atrocious conditions (I can’t remember it stopping raining from the moment I left to go over to my mum’s for lunch), the game very quickly turned into a kicking duel between Larry and David Humphreys. Quite what the watching audience on Eurosport thought of it I don’t know, but once Humphreys went off there was only going to be one winner, and late tries from a Dawson snipe and a John Leslie charge down (still not totally convinced that he was in control of the ball when he grounded it though) gave Saints a vital win. Little did we know at the time how crucial those tries were to prove come January and the final group outcome.

And then to the trip that most of us had been looking forward to since the draw was made in June. Away to Biarritz, and a travelling army of 600 or so (minus Howlin, who apparently wasn’t there, although we had to keep asking each other all weekend just to make sure) made its way down to south west France. Most of the group appeared to be in Pascal Ondart’s bar each night, and I have it on good faith that the Eki wasn’t a bad pint, so although WMS is excused his feeling poorly on the Saturday morning, there is absolutely no excuse for the Binary one’s bad head! Old friendships were restored, new friends were made, and everyone had a good time. As for the match, Tom Smith started on the bench after missing a team meeting, but the Saintly contingent still outsung and out shouted the locals, and the block of gold, black and green must have been a great boost for the players as they fell behind early, but went in at half time level at 10-all thanks to a Bealer try (superbly set up by Ripol and Dawson) and two Grayson kicks.

Then, two minutes into the second half, dreamland. Mark Connors charged down a clearance from the full back, then outsprinted him to the line to give Saints the lead - right in front of the main block of Saints fans. The conversion, and a subsequent penalty put Saints ten in front and on course for a rare victory on French soil. Much as we willed it, it couldn’t last. Scrum half Yachvili kicked a penalty, and then with ten minutes to go, Thomas Lievremont, later to be one of three players cited, went over for a try, and with a successful conversion it was 20 all. Typically, Saints’ luck was to run out, when in the seventh minute of injury time, two penalties, the first getting Biarritz out of their own 22, and the second for a lineout being pulled down, gave Yachvili the chance to win the game. And he did just that. For the second time this season Saints had lost to the last kick of the game.

What I’ll remember most about Biarritz is not just how close a positive result was, nor what a fantastic weekend was had by all of the supporters. What I’ll remember most is chatting to Wayne Smith in Ondarts garden on the Saturday night. That twenty minutes fully illustrated to me just how much he loves the club and how desperate for success he is. We’ve got the right man in charge all right!

The following Sunday, and a very windy trip down to the Mad Jet to play Oirish. Note for anyone wanting to see a decent game of rugby next season - don’t go when I’m writing the match report! I did three games, away at Irish, Leeds and Newcastle, and I’m still waiting to right a really positive report! In the conditions it was always going to be a war of attrition, and I suppose the writing was on the wall after just eight seconds, when Saints were awarded their first penalty. The undoubted highlight was Ben’s try just before half time, flattening Sackey to collect a Grays crosskick, and the undoubted low point was the flattening of AB in the second half, this time (allegedly - I didn’t see it) by the straight arm of the good doctor. Still, 14-12, and a win’s a win, setting us up nicely for…

Castle Grim. Home of the league leaders, beaten only once to this point and that after playing with 14 men for almost the whole eighty minutes against the team who they were to play in the Championship final. It was a grim day too, wet and cold, but didn’t stop a full house and thanks to a late arrival at Heathrow for the referee Jonathan Kaplan, a delayed kick off as well. Until half time there were hopes of a win, leading 9-6, but with Grays being taken off and leading despite Glaws having much of the ball. In the second half though, the lack of an experienced kicking option at fly-half was to cost us dear, but the final result of 18-9, which included an outrageous drop goal from Andy Gomersall, gave hope, and a number of Glaws fans commented that we were the best team they had played all season.

Final note from Gloucester - the Shedhead fanzine had, on its cover, “Oi, Dawson, meet the England scrum-half - A Gomersall Esq”. On the Tuesday, Ben, Wally and a Mr Dawson were named in the England starting XV for the game against the All Blacks.

Saturday 9th November. England 31 New Zealand 28. Cracking Ben try, and an even better late try-saving tackle. That was the afternoon. At lunchtime, two under strength teams served up what could best be described as dross at FG. Unfortunately, the visitors were from Pooh Corner. The score 16-3. To them. Bruce Reihana came on for his debut. Mark Connors dislocated his shoulder. And I lost a bet. End of story.

So to the trip to the surprise team of the season, second placed Leeds. Unsurprisingly, given that it was pretty much the same team as the previous week, Saints trailed - badly - early on, but the second half brought a fight back, pulling the score back to 26-19 thanks to fine work from the pack pinning Leeds on their own line. There was a great photo in the Chron the following evening of Robbie Morris’ celebration of Rob Hunter’s late try, and indeed the score could have been even better, had referee Roy Maybank spotted a knock on from Dan Scarbrough on his own five metre line after a long, long Reihana clearance. Still, two games during the Autumn internationals, and two defeats (nice version of Bohemian Rhapsody on the SSC coach home though, and we had had a laugh at lunchtime with Mally‘s lot from the Tykes board trying to take Stuart Barnes‘ head off). Would the lunchtime home game against Quins be any better?

Well, yes it would actually. A lot better. Another soaking wet pitch, but this time with bright sunshine, saw the second five point win of the season, thanks to a storming performance from Brrrruuuuuuucccccceeeee, two tries from Bealer, and a first for Brett Sturgess. In fact, the only downer on the whole day was shouting at the big screen in the Rodber Suite for the last five minutes of the England game for Clive Woodward to get Robbie Morris on for his first cap. He didn’t get on, but it would come before the end of the season…

More to follow in Part Two