I donât. Itâs fucking shit. I was in the pub today with my back to it. Scutter.
Nothing makes me lose faith more in humanity than people who try and kid themselves and others that this is a spectacle worth watching for any sort of reason. Fair enough tuning in for the last 5 mins after hearing the West Brits are on the verge of an embarrassing collapse or tuning in when you hear theyâre getting fucking steamrolled - but for any other reason than that? No, I canât abide that.
Whatâs your problem?
Iâm dismayed by my fellow human beings.
I also have that problem. Rugby really has nothing to do with it though.
[QUOTE=âmickee321, post: 1100412, member: 367â]What is the consensus of the forum for how to approach this tomorrow?
I think ill just go along with my assertions that church is on steroids and that bang to the head probably wont do the thick fucker any harm[/QUOTE]
Iâll try and find out who won the Capital One Cup at some stage this evening and just go with that.
[QUOTE=âmickee321, post: 1100412, member: 367â]What is the consensus of the forum for how to approach this tomorrow?
I think ill just go along with my assertions that church is on steroids and that bang to the head probably wont do the thick fucker any harm[/QUOTE]
Did you see the match today, Mickie?
Itâs like this.
Back when most people on this forum were growing up, rugby was there, but it was a fringe pursuit and mainly laughed at.
The game had a certain charm. You could admire the exciting running of Trevor Ringland, Hugo MacNeill and Simon Geoghegan, you could warm to the maverick, devil may care attitude of Willie Duggan, Neil Francis and even, for a time, Mick Galwey as they gallantly mullocked forward in those ridiculous boots that covered half their shins. You could laugh at the hilariously shit passing of Michael Bradley. You could listen to the dulcet tones of Fred Cogley. You could appreciate that Lansdowne Road was quite an atmospheric place, as Molly Malone echoed around before the inevitable French fightback to win comfortably.
Some of us may have watched Five Nations matches, may have mildly enjoyed them, and some of us may have even briefly played the game. It wasnât offensive. But we quickly forgot about it because there were other and better things to do or be interested in.
Now the game consists of Carr Communications-trained corporate robots who are thrust in our face 24/7, who say nothing of interest and create even less of interest on the pitch in a game which has become a bish, bash, bosh, fall over in a heap, kick aimlessly, repeat x 1000 dirge, played by steroid-ridden, muscle bound freaks who bench press 60kg with their jaw, played in front of brainwashed corporate tossers whose favourite band is Coldplay, in silent, soulless caverns where the only atmosphere is the one created by machines which throw flames high into the air, and where the mindless mediocrities who follow the game and whose only other interests are walking aimlessly around Ikea and watching X-Factor canât and wonât stop talking rubbish in normal peopleâs faces at the water cooler or in the lift about a game theyâve never played and know nothing about because itâs the cool but yet completely bland, neutral and inoffensive thing to talk about. Well itâs not fucking cool and it never will be.
#6nationsselfie on Twitter opens and shuts the case
[QUOTE=âSidney, post: 1100479, member: 183â]Itâs like this.
Back when most people on this forum were growing up, rugby was there, but it was a fringe pursuit and mainly laughed at.
The game had a certain charm. You could admire the exciting running of Trevor Ringland, Hugo MacNeill and Simon Geoghegan, you could warm to the maverick, devil may care attitude of Willie Duggan, Neil Francis and even, for a time, Mick Galwey as they gallantly mullocked forward in those ridiculous boots that covered half their shins. You could laugh at the hilariously shit passing of Michael Bradley. You could listen to the dulcet tones of Fred Cogley. You could appreciate that Lansdowne Road was quite an atmospheric place, as Molly Malone echoed around before the inevitable French fightback to win comfortably.
Some of us may have watched Five Nations matches, may have mildly enjoyed them, and some of us may have even briefly played the game. It wasnât offensive. But we quickly forgot about it because there were other and better things to do or be interested in.
Now the game consists of Carr Communications-trained corporate robots who are thrust in our face 24/7, who say nothing of interest and create even less of interest on the pitch in a game which has become a bish, bash, bosh, fall over in a heap, kick aimlessly, repeat x 1000 dirge, played by steroid-ridden, muscle bound freaks who bench press 60kg with their jaw, played in front of brainwashed corporate tossers whose favourite band is Coldplay, in silent, soulless caverns where the only atmosphere is the one created by machines which throw flames high into the air, and where the mindless mediocrities who follow the game and whose only other interests are walking aimlessly around Ikea and watching X-Factor canât and wonât stop talking rubbish in normal peopleâs faces at the water cooler or in the lift about a game theyâve never played and know nothing about because itâs the cool but yet completely bland, neutral and inoffensive thing to talk about. Well itâs not fucking cool and it never will be.[/QUOTE]
What a post.
[QUOTE=âSidney, post: 1100479, member: 183â]Itâs like this.
Back when most people on this forum were growing up, rugby was there, but it was a fringe pursuit and mainly laughed at.
The game had a certain charm. You could admire the exciting running of Trevor Ringland, Hugo MacNeill and Simon Geoghegan, you could warm to the maverick, devil may care attitude of Willie Duggan, Neil Francis and even, for a time, Mick Galwey as they gallantly mullocked forward in those ridiculous boots that covered half their shins. You could laugh at the hilariously shit passing of Michael Bradley. You could listen to the dulcet tones of Fred Cogley. You could appreciate that Lansdowne Road was quite an atmospheric place, as Molly Malone echoed around before the inevitable French fightback to win comfortably.
Some of us may have watched Five Nations matches, may have mildly enjoyed them, and some of us may have even briefly played the game. It wasnât offensive. But we quickly forgot about it because there were other and better things to do or be interested in.
Now the game consists of Carr Communications-trained corporate robots who are thrust in our face 24/7, who say nothing of interest and create even less of interest on the pitch in a game which has become a bish, bash, bosh, fall over in a heap, kick aimlessly, repeat x 1000 dirge, played by steroid-ridden, muscle bound freaks who bench press 60kg with their jaw, played in front of brainwashed corporate tossers whose favourite band is Coldplay, in silent, soulless caverns where the only atmosphere is the one created by machines which throw flames high into the air, and where the mindless mediocrities who follow the game and whose only other interests are walking aimlessly around Ikea and watching X-Factor canât and wonât stop talking rubbish in normal peopleâs faces at the water cooler or in the lift about a game theyâve never played and know nothing about because itâs the cool but yet completely bland, neutral and inoffensive thing to talk about. Well itâs not fucking cool and it never will be.[/QUOTE]
Phew. Thanks sid, that warmed me up on a cold night
[QUOTE=âSidney, post: 1100479, member: 183â]Itâs like this.
Back when most people on this forum were growing up, rugby was there, but it was a fringe pursuit and mainly laughed at.
The game had a certain charm. You could admire the exciting running of Trevor Ringland, Hugo MacNeill and Simon Geoghegan, you could warm to the maverick, devil may care attitude of Willie Duggan, Neil Francis and even, for a time, Mick Galwey as they gallantly mullocked forward in those ridiculous boots that covered half their shins. You could laugh at the hilariously shit passing of Michael Bradley. You could listen to the dulcet tones of Fred Cogley. You could appreciate that Lansdowne Road was quite an atmospheric place, as Molly Malone echoed around before the inevitable French fightback to win comfortably.
Some of us may have watched Five Nations matches, may have mildly enjoyed them, and some of us may have even briefly played the game. It wasnât offensive. But we quickly forgot about it because there were other and better things to do or be interested in.
Now the game consists of Carr Communications-trained corporate robots who are thrust in our face 24/7, who say nothing of interest and create even less of interest on the pitch in a game which has become a bish, bash, bosh, fall over in a heap, kick aimlessly, repeat x 1000 dirge, played by steroid-ridden, muscle bound freaks who bench press 60kg with their jaw, played in front of brainwashed corporate tossers whose favourite band is Coldplay, in silent, soulless caverns where the only atmosphere is the one created by machines which throw flames high into the air, and where the mindless mediocrities who follow the game and whose only other interests are walking aimlessly around Ikea and watching X-Factor canât and wonât stop talking rubbish in normal peopleâs faces at the water cooler or in the lift about a game theyâve never played and know nothing about because itâs the cool but yet completely bland, neutral and inoffensive thing to talk about. Well itâs not fucking cool and it never will be.[/QUOTE]
Then why are you so utterly obsessed with it?
[QUOTE=âSidney, post: 1100479, member: 183â]Itâs like this.
Back when most people on this forum were growing up, rugby was there, but it was a fringe pursuit and mainly laughed at.
The game had a certain charm. You could admire the exciting running of Trevor Ringland, Hugo MacNeill and Simon Geoghegan, you could warm to the maverick, devil may care attitude of Willie Duggan, Neil Francis and even, for a time, Mick Galwey as they gallantly mullocked forward in those ridiculous boots that covered half their shins. You could laugh at the hilariously shit passing of Michael Bradley. You could listen to the dulcet tones of Fred Cogley. You could appreciate that Lansdowne Road was quite an atmospheric place, as Molly Malone echoed around before the inevitable French fightback to win comfortably.
Some of us may have watched Five Nations matches, may have mildly enjoyed them, and some of us may have even briefly played the game. It wasnât offensive. But we quickly forgot about it because there were other and better things to do or be interested in.
Now the game consists of Carr Communications-trained corporate robots who are thrust in our face 24/7, who say nothing of interest and create even less of interest on the pitch in a game which has become a bish, bash, bosh, fall over in a heap, kick aimlessly, repeat x 1000 dirge, played by steroid-ridden, muscle bound freaks who bench press 60kg with their jaw, played in front of brainwashed corporate tossers whose favourite band is Coldplay, in silent, soulless caverns where the only atmosphere is the one created by machines which throw flames high into the air, and where the mindless mediocrities who follow the game and whose only other interests are walking aimlessly around Ikea and watching X-Factor canât and wonât stop talking rubbish in normal peopleâs faces at the water cooler or in the lift about a game theyâve never played and know nothing about because itâs the cool but yet completely bland, neutral and inoffensive thing to talk about. Well itâs not fucking cool and it never will be.[/QUOTE]
Sidney 
The emperor inât wearing a fucking stitch.
The GAA Championships are still some months off.
Thats a belter of a post from @Sidney. Iâll represent the forum in Cardiff to round off Cheltenham week. #epic
[I]People may tire of it but Henshaw himself credited the score to the high fielding learned on the GAA pitch.
Asked by the BBC about the try, the Irish centre answered:
I thought I had a good chance to just use my Gaelic football skills in the air and claim the ball and just got it down in the end.[/I]
Yep, 9 championships in 120 odd attempts would bear that out alright
[QUOTE=âmickee321, post: 1100412, member: 367â]What is the consensus of the forum for how to approach this tomorrow?
I think ill just go along with my assertions that church is on steroids and that bang to the head probably wont do the thick fucker any harm[/QUOTE]
how about didnt the west brits cunts observe GSTQ beautifully, couldve been in twickers
[QUOTE=âSidney, post: 1100479, member: 183â]Itâs like this.
Back when most people on this forum were growing up, rugby was there, but it was a fringe pursuit and mainly laughed at.
The game had a certain charm. You could admire the exciting running of Trevor Ringland, Hugo MacNeill and Simon Geoghegan, you could warm to the maverick, devil may care attitude of Willie Duggan, Neil Francis and even, for a time, Mick Galwey as they gallantly mullocked forward in those ridiculous boots that covered half their shins. You could laugh at the hilariously shit passing of Michael Bradley. You could listen to the dulcet tones of Fred Cogley. You could appreciate that Lansdowne Road was quite an atmospheric place, as Molly Malone echoed around before the inevitable French fightback to win comfortably.
Some of us may have watched Five Nations matches, may have mildly enjoyed them, and some of us may have even briefly played the game. It wasnât offensive. But we quickly forgot about it because there were other and better things to do or be interested in.
Now the game consists of Carr Communications-trained corporate robots who are thrust in our face 24/7, who say nothing of interest and create even less of interest on the pitch in a game which has become a bish, bash, bosh, fall over in a heap, kick aimlessly, repeat x 1000 dirge, played by steroid-ridden, muscle bound freaks who bench press 60kg with their jaw, played in front of brainwashed corporate tossers whose favourite band is Coldplay, in silent, soulless caverns where the only atmosphere is the one created by machines which throw flames high into the air, and where the mindless mediocrities who follow the game and whose only other interests are walking aimlessly around Ikea and watching X-Factor canât and wonât stop talking rubbish in normal peopleâs faces at the water cooler or in the lift about a game theyâve never played and know nothing about because itâs the cool but yet completely bland, neutral and inoffensive thing to talk about. Well itâs not fucking cool and it never will be.[/QUOTE]
Unreal. Top, top post.
In fairness, before the 80s most of the lads who played rugby would never have played GAA. GAA wouldnât have been posh enough for them.