Just like way back in the days of old

Hoarseness attends me after I vibrantly encouraged my favoured team known cheerfully as ‘Gloucester’ to a 33-36 victory yesterday. Reaching for a throat lozenge has ne'er proved more pleasurable, I'll tell thee. We have been treated, in recent weeks, to some truly exciting matches at Kingsholm but none as thrilling as this win over Bath in a game that, simply, had everything. Events ebbed and flowed with a rare effervescence and, more than once, I feared that our rivals would emerge victorious only for bayonets to be sharpened and reaffixed in order for the heroes in cherry to attack purposefully once again. History will judge that a five minute period, in which three noble tries were secured, proved pivotal. Yes, ‘twas a fabulous salver of touchin’ down the egg merriment but there was more to proceedings than merely scampering o’er the line. The tries were splendid though. The young prince, Simpson-Daniel, bagged a bewitching brace, first chasing a chip from the chipper Spencer and later galloping home from halfway having intercepted gleefully. A third five-pointer from the sharp and keen and speedy Sharples sent the popular side into scenes of hysterical mayhem. But I would suggest that another gritty performance from a mighty Gloucester forward pack saw the city club home. The warrior they call Delve stole the man of the match plaudits for the third, possibly fourth, match in a row and I warmly salute another performance of raw substance and gainline-breaking magnificence from the engaging Welshman. The livewire Hazell is in the form of his life and snaffled the loose ball and won, not only the 50-50 eggs, but the 40-60 and 30-70 ones also. I must mention the splendid contribution made by Kiwi prop Somerville who, wi’ abrasive cohorts Azam and Wood, contested and dominated the tight exchanges fiercely and made too many hard yards to count, carrying the ball uncompromisingly into, and often, through contact. It was a great occasion yesterday. The lads were marvellous.