It started off so well: they said we made a perfect blog meet location. Historic Heidelberg, an Irish pub, Super Saturday. Three nations with a chance of vying for the title. Then the nasty wee bugger cancelled some matches, participants dropped off like superannuated flies, and – with 24 hours to go – the one remaining scheduled match was nixed.
Some of us, made of stronger stuff, were undaunted by the prospect of a pandemic along the lines of Stephen King’s The Stand. We, the strong, the proud, the possibly foolish: Boanova, DropTheClaw, Meades, Xan, the mister and me, and of course our noble, gracious and hard-working hosts, Mister and Missus Iks.
We’d all arrived by Friday evening, so got down to business immediately at Vetter’s. Boa and Xan had arrived a couple of days before, and had some important information to impart.
Boa and Xan’s Top Tourist Tip for Heidelberg: What Not to Visit
As every fule kno, Gurgle is your go-to site for local attractions. Imagine our heroes’ excitement when they found something called the Königstuhl. The King’s Stool! It must be an ancient throne (or something): off we go!
The way was long and weary, 13 km straight up a mountain, but our intrepid adventurers persevered, battling off trolls, Nazgûl, plagues of locusts and football fans. At last, weary and wiping the sweat from their brows, they reached the summit, and found … a construction site.
And a bus stop.
The Plans
Given that there was no rugby on the morrow, a discussion ensued on what to do. The decision was taken to meet at the Irish pub as planned, so the poor buggers had some business, footfall in pubs and restaurants being noticeably down.
MissusIks also promised to find a rugby ball. Our bits perked up.
The Big Day
We all congregated at The Dubliner, only two hours late, and obviously much hilarity ensued. Which shall mostly be hush-hush. But I have previously reported that some of the lads disappeared down an alley-way with the rugby ball, which subsequently suffered the sad fate pictured above. But it remained unpunctured, as you will see.
The next port of call was the Bar Centrale, which was sadly neglected by other customers, but which did serve the greatest G&T ever experienced, and also had a square opposite that was perfect for ball-wanging. It was an unfortunate pass that hit me in the face, bloodied my nose, and sent my glasses clattering to the floor. Fortunately the glasses were uninjured except for the imprint of the ball’s pattern on the lens, discovered in the morning.
Such is the stuff from where dreams are woven.
Then off to dinner, with an enormous bottle of wine courtesy of MissusIks.
Vowing to the rugby gods to return in happier – or at least, less contagious – times, we said our goodbyes.
Ovally Balls 
Trisk, He played most of his early tests at outside half but I think part of the problem was Ireland had better 10s than 12s – McGann, then Camppbell and Ward towards the end of Gibson’s career. With the Lions he had Watkins in 1966, John in 1968 (though Gibson played 10 in 3 1/2 of the Tests as John was crocked after half an hour of Test 1) and 1971, Bennett in 1974 and 1977 (though he was only a replacement flown out for the former and suffered a lot of injuries in the latter). Those 3 were all top players and they still fitted Gibson in at 12.
I’ve got a book about the 1968 Lions tour of SA here, will type up the profile of him from there later.
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Space news.
NASA’s InSight lander, which is currently on the surface of Mars, has faced some unexpected problems during its mission to explore and study the planet.
Namely, a digging probe that was built to burrow beneath the surface like a jackhammer got stuck because Mars’ soil is clumpier than scientists expected, Popular Science reports.
After a few failed attempts to get it out, NASA had to get a bit creative. Ultimately, it freed the probe up by giving it a solid thwack with InSight’s shovel.
Next they’ll be telling it to dig it’s own grave.
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Shut up Craig’s, you’re so fucking boring.
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Was trying to find a Gibson try that sticks in my memory, where he stops dead, throws an outrageous dummy, and strolls to the line thru a crowd of bemused defenders.
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He sets up this for Fergus Slattery and JPR with a peach:
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Two tries v England in 1974 here:
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Didn’t someone on AoD have Mike Gibson as their avatar? Was it Tcod?
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1972 Sco/Ire v Eng/Wal action:
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I told this story on the old site but here we go. A guy I know is the son of a lawyer from Northern Ireland. They lived in Holywood on the North Down coast and his dad used to do a lot of work with Mike Gibson. When my mate was a kid, he used to call the great man “Uncle Michael”. Anyway, he gets a bit older and someone explains to him exactly who his Uncle Mike Gibson is. The next time my boy meets him he calls him “Mr Gibson”.
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Don’t think it was that Baabaas one Tomp, but exactly that dummy. Recall it being a sort of trademark.
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Glad everyone rallied round you there Craigs!
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There’s a Graham Mourie dummy I tried to copy in a game after I saw it on a VHS we had. I got clobbered.
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Deebs – blog solidarity and all that.
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Great article on the Graun about Welsh rugby and how religion impacted clubs 100 years ago. Never knew that. Don’t go BTL.
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Fuck off Craigs.
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You too Deebs.
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Mike Gibson was throwing dummies for the Lionz too, as I recall.
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Right,
One night at training under floodlights I threw a pass, a huge big, ball in both hands pass off to my left and over the top of the head of the player coming in to tackle me. He looked up in to the night sky, blinded by the floodlights, looking for the ball.
It was a dummy of course and as he turned away from me, eyes to the sky, I strolled in to score.
I dummied David Sole.
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Here’s the extract from that book I mentioned earlier (Lion Tamers by AC Parker)
“CMH Gibson (fly half) 25, 5 ft. 10 1/2 in., 168 lb., 22 Ireland caps, Apprentice solicitor. Few inside backs have come to South Africa with a bigger reputation than Mike Gibson, and this was a contributory factor to his not proving the match-winner many in the Lions camp expected. He was a “marked man” from the start, and opposing loose forwards were inevitably instructed to “mark Gibson”. He had to endure a number of tackles in the late or on the fringe of late category, and though (as he himself said) there was nothing wrong with the tackle which caused him to suffer damage to the ligaments of his right ankle in the opening match it took him some time to regain confidence after missing four games. A groin injury and bout of pneumonia had kept him inactive for a major part of the last British season.
“Gibson, like Hinshelwood, plays in contact lenses and David Frost* raised the interesting point that these might not have been a help in the bright South African sunlight. He had some trouble with them in the Windhoek game.
“It was in an attacking role that Gibson disappointed, for he tackled, covered and tidied up wonderfully well on defence. He lacked the incisiveness and footwork of Barry John in making a break and tended to run across the field. He seemed, too, to fall into a kicking groove and was not sufficiently positive. What a Cliff Morgan would have done with some of the possession he enjoyed … Yet he was considered by Dr Craven to be a fine player unjustly criticised in the Newlands test and in his best tour display – against Northern Transvaal – showed real class. His kicking, both to touch and tactically, was most efficient. It would have been interesting to see him at inside centre, where he greatly impressed New Zealanders.
“As a personality Mike was sensitive, modest, and highly intelligent. I enjoyed many an interesting talk with him. A keen and competent golfer, this being his main summer sporting interest.”
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Every single house that I could see from where I was standing was out applauding our health service workers just now.
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A couple of things – it was an 18-match tour and John got injured during the first test, in which Gibson replaced him. Gibson then played the next 7 matches, Saturday and mid-week, in a row and 11 of the last 13 matches of the tour.
There were 16 backs on the tour in total – 2 replacements – and Gibson at 25 was the 5th oldest, a couple of months older than Bob Hiller .
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The David Frost mentioned above was The Guardian’s rugby correspondent.
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Mike Gibson try v Scotland in 1969. A half-dummy, a duck and a sidestep. Great finish.
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Mike Gibson v Wales in 1973. A dummy, a step and some great strength.
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Run out of luck with more Gibson tries.
Did turn this gem up from the RTE archives. Father Ted meets ticht:
https://www.rte.ie/archives/2017/0314/859634-rugby-how-to-train-a-prop-forward/
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“Great article on the Graun about Welsh rugby and how religion impacted clubs 100 years ago. Never knew that. Don’t go BTL.”
It’s not a great article, it’s just an article about an interesting subject. Feels like there are big chunks of it missing as it flails around aimlessly.
As far as I could see the BTL is fine apart from one idiot and some pointless responses.
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I’m feeling disagreeable, but there’s nothing to disagree with about the constant stream of Mike Gibson tries.
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“Shut up Craig’s, you’re so fucking boring.”
Not going to fall into the trap of disagreeing with this though.
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Lion, Witch and Wardrobe all done and dusted. Middle One noticed Aslan’s similarity to Jesus. Still favoured the Witch though right to the end. And she’s the one who claims to believe in God. Thinks Narnia might be real. Thought the Professor was a woman and is disappointed that he’s not.
Could make anything of all that.
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Might dust a real wardrobe tomorrow.
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Eldest likes the way time in Narnia doesn’t equate to time in ‘Our World’. Was intrigued by the sacrifice thing. Didn’t ever go over to the witch’s side. Supports Wales.
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Blimey, presumably that’s a take on Bill McLaren’s accent?
It’s not bad on the cadence to be fair, but the accent is, well, not so accurate.
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Well that’s torn it, the week’s supply of beer that I got earlier todays suddenly isn’t.
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The voice of Bill McLaren just seemed right for the Narnia commentaries. I’ve got loads of animals to use, mythical or otherwise so I’ll keep trying. Sorry I can’t get the accent right though.
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We’ll read the one with all the Mike Gibson tries in it next.
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“When my mate was a kid, he used to call the great man “Uncle Michael”.”
The Magician’s Nephew it is then. Shame, I was going to go for Prince Caspian.
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Nah, ignore Magician’s Nephew and go straight to Prince Caspian.
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New post up shortly….
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