Maidstone Vets 20 Moles 5

On a glorious day for rugby the Gravesend Moles gathered under a leaden sky at Maidstone to do battle with the old enemy. For the second year the Moles were invited down to play in a Vets Memorial game, which has been held every Christmas for 30 plus years, to remember those Stones club men who are no longer with us.

The Moleys greeted each other warmly with the usual hugging, kissing and bum squeezing. In the changing rooms the Moleys gathering into sub groups to change, not delineated as one might have thought by position or age or profession or sexual proclivity, but curiously by degrees of bushiness. A few Moleys looked, from the waist down, like 70s porn stars as they sported what can only be described as ‘afro style’ bushes. Most Moleys were neatly trimmed ‘down below’, but only one Moley was as 'clean as a whistle'. This takes effort as it has to be done daily and a wrinkled old sack is trickier to groom than a smooth cheek. This can only happen with the involvement of a Molette. Respect to her! The sack owner, who will remain anonymous to keep the fans guessing, is adamant that this is nothing to do with personal vanity or increasing his sexual magnetism. It is solely to do with commitment to the team as he jumps in the line out and the front lifter has to curl their fingers under his shorts and undershorts and rather than encountering a pubic tangle and bringing tears to his eyes as he is lifted, the lifter’s fingers now encounter groinal smoothness. Serious commitment to the position, no?

Velcro squealed in an excited and high-pitched way when he found in an old vallies bag his wedding ring he had lost many seasons ago on an away game to Southwark. The whole team stayed for an hour after the loss was discovered, searching the changing rooms, every kit bag, the
shower drains etc...to no avail...yet here it was....in the vallies bag that was used for the Southwark match. ” Woo hoo!..." he bellowed...” My wife might let me in the bedroom again now I have found the lost wedding ring!”. It was touching to see the tears of relief running down his cheeks and to see the glimmer of anticipation starting to flicker in his eyes. This did explain that his moments of red mist on the field over the last few years had been down to sexual frustration and not anger management issues. Sorry mate, we did not understand.

Now in terms of the game, vets teams manifest on a spectrum...at one end they are a social team of 35 to 50 plus, who never played at a high standard, who don’t get to train together and who just love the game and the banter...at the other end of the spectrum is the league vets team made up of first team/ex first team players who are 35 plus and still play at a high standard. The Stones team we played last season was the former...the team we played yesterday was very much the latter.

Stones were organised, well drilled and d determined. Their set pieces were very good - tight scrums and smooth lineouts. Their tackling was fierce. On more than one occasion the Moleys were pressing the Stones line and in most previous Moley games the relentless pick and go would have broken through, but not today against this Stones team.

The Moles also had to deal with something we rarely see at our level, suspiciously accurate and canny tactical kicking from their number 10, with the kick chase getting Stones out of trouble every time the Moles got in their 22. Rumour has it there were more than a handful of first team/ex first team players in the Stones team and their no 10 was surely one of these.

It really was a game of two halves. Stones scored 3 tries in the first half and had heads dropped it could have been a very long day at the office. But Miami’s calm and measured half time words stiffened our sinews and there was a greater level of aggression in the second half. Gary scored an excellent try. Final score 4 tries to 1.

After the whistle went and the Moleys trudged through the mud to gather in their post-match huddle, looking around at those who had given their all for their club, what onlookers must have thought as the Moleys gathered with their heads held high, was how they so epitomised the words in William Henley’s inspirational poem, Invictus...”My head is bloodied but unbowed.”

As Miami pulled the Moleys into a circle it was difficult to tell who was who given everyone was covered in black mud from head to toe. All we could see was Miami’s white teeth flashing as he spoke of how proud he was that we had gone toe to toe with a very good team and not let our heads drop.

As we walked back to the clubhouse in the gathering gloom the words that sprung to mind were those of a controversial president, Nixon... “Defeat doesn't finish a man, quitting does. A man is not finished when he's defeated. He's finished when he quits.”

How very right he was. The Moleys lost the match but from 1 to 18 the fight did not stop, no one quit until the final whistle blew. Where does one start with a game like that, to single out those to mention, because despite the loss what cannot be doubted was the Moley team spirit and commitment to the black shirt and all it represents.

Miami led from the front, not only putting his body on the line for his team and club against a big/strong/skilful oppo but having enough energy to also be exhorting the troops on.

Sellsy, the George Clooney of GRFC, showed his tremendous versatility by playing scrum half and playing surprisingly well.

Gary Gray...my oh my oh my...what a great game he had - great awareness of space, soft hands, quick feet and a nonstop flood of positive comments and team support throughout the game.

The two foreign Moley centres, Paddy and Marco, punched hard up the middle all game and against a usual Swans/Moles level oppo they would have broken through and scored. But this was a very strong and well organised Stones side and their tackling was quality.

The two Woodbines had to deal with some big/strong/gnarly/capable props (one of whom apparently played at Saracens back in the day!) and stood their ground impressively. (Moment of the match was Woodbine jnr explaining to Woodbine snr how he should pivot and catch the quick ball to the front of the lineout. Should have seen has face...like he had sucked on a lemon...)

Given the mismatch there were injuries. Benny the Pimp, usually very resilient, had to go off with his arm in a sling. Mayhem’s hand is a lovely shade of purple and his hand is now as podgy as his sausage-sized fingers have always been. “My 'special' hand as well” he moaned!

Garrick is sporting a lovely shiner which will surely inflame his wife as she realises, yet again, that she married a scarred, testosterone-filled warrior rather than a football watching, pasty faced snowflake who believes in unisex underwear.

Someone who should have been injured given the amount and ferocity of contact he had was Paddy. Must be made of granite. He was very vocal and animated after the game albeit no one could understand what he was saying. Someone who had spent some time in Ireland did manage to roughly translate and apparently what Paddy was saying was he did not want to play in the backs again as he is not a fan of musical theatre. Fair enough but he had barn-storming, straight-running, 100% effort game in the backs nevertheless.

The two teams assembled in their muddy kits in the clubhouse afterwards for the presentation of the Memorial Cup. Miami responded with a gracious few words and given the day was all about remembering absent friends and team mates, he led us all in raising a glass to Mole #1, who kicked off the Moles concept 21 years ago.

This was a reminder to us that the Moles is much more than a rugby team:​

- It’s a fundraising fraternity doing all sorts of activities to raise money for The Royal British Legion and
more.
- It’s a business brotherhood with its latest venture being the successful micro pub,The Mole Hole
- It’s a pantomime posse performing sold out Christmas shows immensely enjoyed by young and
old. (well over £1500 raised for the Demelza Hospice for sick children this year)
- It’s a cycling crew venturing out at weekends and occasionally as far as Ypres and Paris; very commendable
given the girth of some Moleys.
- It’s a BBQ brotherhood exemplified by Squeaksy’s amazing ‘something for everyone’ BBQ last
Summer.
- It’s a touring troop with stories circling to this day of past trips to Cologne, Antwerp and Torquay.

After the game in the changing room a worrying number of vibrantly coloured, skin tight, Chippendale-style boxer shorts were in evidence but what caught everyone’s attention was Woodbine Snr’s extremely extravagant-looking boots, which can only described as tartan gangster spat boots,allegedly costing £180 but ...“ worth every penny because I will so pull in these ”...Well good luck with that !

As the port and hipflasks circulated, as yards and yards of tape was unwound , as painkillers were popped, as stout Moles got chums to help them pull off very snug tops, as arthritic Moles got chums to help them get their boots off, one could not help wonder why so many people like playingfor the Moles long after most rugby players have hung up their boots?

Well it may be that it’s because you don't stop playing rugby when you grow old, you grow old when you stop playing rugby? And you are a long time retired...

Stones is a long running and hard fought local derby but as the Moleys and Stones mingled at halftime for a shot of port , covered in mud, to toast absent friends and sat down for dinner together after the game, we were family. We were part of the rugby family. The family that is made up of men of all shapes and sizes and backgrounds, united by a shared love of the game and the values it represents: respect, sportsmanship, camaraderie, banter, drinking.

‘Rugby was the winner’ is the usual evasive shorthand to answer the question of what the score was when a team has lost.But on this day, after we played the old enemy, did our best for the black shirt, remembered absent friends and team mates that had gone to the great clubhouse in
the sky, rugby really was the winner.

As we drove home and the port, toffee vodka and post-match drinks was working wonders on soothing our bruised and broken bodies, the loss was already behind us and we were all looking forward to our next game.

On Sunday morning all the Moles woke up aching all over. Velcro, who was looking forward to a liein, had an early morning ambush from a delighted wife chuffed to bits that he had found his long-lost wedding ring and eager to ‘thank’ him. Velcro forgot he was well over 50 and had played in possibly the toughest game of the season the day before, and so he valiantly tried to respond.
Apparently, although he undoubtedly did his best (given Moleys have a reputation throughout Kent for being thorough and considerate lovers) he got cramp in his left hamstring and then in his right calf... which understandably didn't help....but he did apparently promise his wife that he...“ will do better when I have rested a bit longer”...Good luck mate, keep us posted!

Bring on the next game vs Steelers early in the new year, when this motley 'Band of Brothers' will assemble again and win, lose or draw it will be yet another glorious day for rugby!

And a merry Christmas to all you lovely Moleys, future Moleys, sons of Moleys, wives, girlfriends, partners and boyfriends of Moleys ...XXX​