As human beings we all have special days to look forward to and to celebrate. To the young child it is the magic of Christmas day or a birthday. To awake to the excitement of presents at the foot of the bed is indeed a wonderful feeling to be anticipated long before the great day.

To others it might be the memory of that special day in one’s life that was so memorable or a day that perhaps changed his or her life.

To a member of the veterans of Amersham and Chiltern RFC (the Chiltern Hundreds) that special day is the annual contest of rugby proficiency conducted on the playing fields of Ash Grove. That anticipation is there for many months before and on the day, ‘he’ will spring from his bed, sniff the fresh autumn air… and then swiftly return to bed until his conscience persuades him to rise again to search for rugby boots, lying discarded in some obscure corner of his abode. When found he will, occasionally, attempt to scrape the congealed mud from the soles before packing them into his kit bag along with other essentials, including medications, to journey to the club, accompanied by memories of previous encounters and looking forward to the fray of another.

This year had a special connotation as it coincided with the Centenary of the club. Incidentally, contrary to appearances none of the match participants were founder members of Chiltern RFC.

The beauty of the match format is that none of players know whether they will be representing the blue or claret team until they arrive in the changing room. From time to time, there is some debate as to whether a certain colour suits a particular player but, thankfully, this year there were no prima donnas, at least, not in the changing room.

Before the match the traditional team photographs were taken. Unfortunately, owing to a mix up on time the official photographer was not present but a number of unofficial photographers stood in, including club stalwart, Mr. George Grammenos. (Photos are also taken post-match as an important aid in ensuring that there have been no serious casualties).

Sadly, this year the crowd was diminished compared to previous encounters, possibly owing to local flooding following the previous day’s deluge and the non-running of the local rail service but, nevertheless, there was no shortage of enthusiastic support from the spectators who had turned up to watch this extravaganza of walking rugby.

At least that is what it was billed as, but natural exuberance overcame some participants as they broke into a run, or at least a jog. This transgression was overlooked by the referee, Mr Owen Conway (South Bucks and Kalkan), ex level 5 (how the mighty hath fallen), who was just pleased that there was movement of whatever kind.

Inevitably, this suited a player like Duncan Bell, whose pace and swerve defeated many an opponent. However, there were also prominent performances from others such as Rupert Simmonds, whose encounters with Peter Williams were a highlight of this non-physical(?) spectacle; and Peter, himself who exercised a brilliant NFL type one handed torpedo pass later in the game.

It was good to see that Chris Smith had not lost his fiery competitiveness, undiminished, despite his time as an RFU Old Fart. Unfortunately, this did lead to a yellow card, following criticism of Mr. Owen Conway’s handling of the match. This was a second yellow as the President, Peter “Digger” Kenyon, had received one earlier; not a good example, Mr President.

Before the match, there had been concern that the pitch would be heavy. However, it played beautifully, taking the stud well. Unfortunately, many of the studs of past chairman Peter Kyte’s boots remained in the pitch, along with much of the soles. It was not a pretty site watching him try to play virtually barefooted.

Tony Hunter played his usual stalwart game both in defence and attack, whilst Jonathan Moughton, sporting brand new Chiltern socks (there’s optimism for you) was his elegant self, gliding through the game. It was also nice to see David Baker make his annual appearance sporting what can only be described as his Covid hairstyle. Someone really ought to let him know that lockdown is over, and he is allowed to visit the barbers.

Your correspondent was also pleased to make the acquaintance of Paul Badman, who seemed a good egg, both on and off the field. My only criticism would be of his ghastly, luminous socks, reminding me of the fashion for luminous socks of the 1950s and 1960s. Was he wearing them to blind opposition tacklers or for a bet?

Finally, I must mention Dave McKintosh (2), who’s tireless work was contributory to a win for his claret team, at least, that’s how he explained it to me.

Overall, the players observed the laws and spirit of rugby football, except when Digger attempted to enter a scrum whilst smoking a cigar, no doubt hoping to create a smoke screen to foil the opposition front row. Thankfully, our esteemed referee intervened.

The match completed, players and officials enjoyed the beer kindly provided by Richard Bobbett, Jon Royals and Spike Stevens. And thence to lunch where animated conversations concerning various ailments accompanied the food. What else is there to talk about these days?

Onwards and upwards and keep taking the tablets

Mike Neill
Team Manager