London can be a cruel place. One minute you are top of the world, loving life in one of the world’s great cosmopolitan cities, and the next you are missing State of Origin because your boss wants you to pick up some decorations for the office’s Queen’s Diamond Jubilee party.
How important can a toilet seat cover embroidered with Prince Philip’s face be?
Finding myself in this position, it was obvious I needed to recapture some serious man-points. The type that only copious amounts of violence, drinking, and immature name-calling of officials can provide.
I needed rugby league.
Realising this, I booked my ticket to Manchester for Super League’s Magic Weekend, and settled in for three cracking rugby league derbies. Here are the results.
1) Wakefield Wildcats 32 Castleford Tigers 26
The first game at Manchester’s Etihad stadium featured the battle between Yorkshire’s two strugglers. Despite the team’s lowly positions, though, both sets of fans were in full voice, oblivious to the fact that they were all getting third-degree sunburn as they tried to see who could call the other group “benders” the most times.
By half-time Wakey were leading by 24-20, proving that while both teams may have been taking tips from the Stephen Kearney defence playbook, they at least made up for with some attacking flair.
For the next 40 mins the game ebbed and flowed before the Wildcats finally triumphed. On the upside for Castleford, though, their fans managed a win when it came to smutty chants and making fun of Keith Senior each time he walked past to the commentator’s box.
2) Warrington Wolves 68 Widnes Vikings 4
Have you ever skipped the start of the second film at a movie-marathon to play the Street Fighter machine, and try to chat-up the surly sixteen year-old girl at the popcorn stand?
Of course you have.
Putting my man-points to the side for a moment, I decided to nip out to the ASDA across the road for lunch (and to try and chat-up the surly 36-year old single mum behind the counter). By the time I had returned to my seat it was half-time and Warrington were up by 40 to 0.
The second half is a blurry memory of jokes about people from Widnes being “smelly gits with six fingers”, Warrington fans barking deliriously each time Joel Monaghan crossed for one of his five tries, and trying to find a place in the stadium with enough reception to send Sharon from ASDA a grubby text message.
Worked for Warney, didn’t it?
3) Hull Kingston Rovers 32 Hull FC 30
In the match of the day, the Airlie Birds and the Robins slugged it out to see who would earn the right to call themselves the pride of Hull (an honour normally reserved for girls who get through high school with less than three kids under their belt). What followed was a game of rugby league as full of excitement and drama as any seen this year.
And it didn’t even need Greg Inglis to knock a ball on.
After the lead had changed numerous times, Hull FC had finally managed to grab the ascendency in the last quarter of the game, stretching out to a 30-16 lead with only 14 minutes remaining.
Not willing to say bye-bye Birdie, however, the Robins managed a quick-fire try from a kick-off, and then another thanks to a pass that would have had Payton Manning lining up for an autograph. Game on!
With under two minutes to play, Hull KR were still down by two points with 90 metres to travel. Hearing my delirious calls of “wide to west!” from row 28, they decided to shift it out to winger David Hodgson, who stood up three defenders and set sail for the tryline. Despite the screams of the Hull FC fans around me he touched down in the corner, and the next thing I know I was in the middle of a shirtless male conga-line singing da-da-da-da-Rovers!
From the moment I arrived at my hotel to find fans from the differing Hull sides arguing over beers at 10 in the morning, until I was kindly asked by police to “put my shirt back on and get out of the bloody stadium” at 10 at night, Manchester Magic was a great weekend, fully worthy of any rugby league fan.
It may not have had Bird versus Scott, or Bill Harrigan giving rule interpretations that require an interplanetary time vortex and a signed copy of his autobiography to understand, but the Poms certainly know how to put on a show, and just as importantly; I had regained some quality man-points.
Now, where is that Prince Philip dunny when you need it.
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