Tries: Scott 2, Rathbone 2, Foster, Louveaux, Williams, Williets

Goals: Williets 3

The sky was blue, the sun was shining, the game of the week had come to Uni Parks. After some satisfying glute stretches and lots of shouting about switching on, the boys in dark blue kicked to Brookes to get the match started. Kamikaze Sellers immediately let our friends from up the hill know that they were not going to have a nice time, putting his head into all sorts of inadvisable positions in the process of whacking the bejesus out of their ballcarriers with the help of Will ‘hand-off’ Taverner. The early defensive pressure immediately paid dividends, as Brooks knocked it on on the fourth tackle of their first set – the Blues responded in style, fizzing the ball to the far wing in order to allow Sam Scott to do what he does best: crushing the hopes and dreams of the bloke trying to defend opposite him. 4-0. After both teams yelled ‘settle’ for a bit, each side began to hit their stride, with attacking sets being met with equally resolute defence from both sides for the next quarter of an hour. Collisions from Sven Pemberton, Richard Clever and Edward Alexandros Harris were picked up by local seismographs. Eventually, the pressure told again and, as the ball broke loose, Rathers, a man who is slipperier than a lubed-up escapologist, danced his way into the corner. 8-0. Lovely stuff. With our esteemed president Marcus Longwang back on the park after a lengthy injury layoff, the Blues were in full flow, hitting naughty lines and presenting a brick wall in D.

When Thom ‘boring nickname’ Foster got on the outside after another beautiful kick receipt by the outside backs, he was able to bamboozle the Brookes defence by running extremely slowly into the corner with several players hanging off him. He must have heard what tries get. 14-0 up and the Blues were purring, but a string of penalties conceded and a loss of concentration on our own line saw Brookes sneak over the whitewash to register their first points of the afternoon. 14-6. Sam Scott was obviously concerned that the winger opposite him might have been beginning to enjoy himself, so he moved quickly to stamp out any remaining will to go on by dotting down for the second time, maintaining his 1:1 catch to try ratio. The Blues went in to their half time oranges 18-6 up, with skipper Roper happily mumbling something about the game being ‘undred-mile-an-hour’ and something else about his jaw.

Unfazed by this bizarre display from their erstwhile leader, the Blues got back out for the second half and, after ringing some changes, the Blues got back on the scoresheet as replacement centre Harry Williams went over at the end of a short-side play so filthy one onlooker was said to have passed out. 22-6, and the Game of the Week was delivering an absolute corker. Brookes came back strong though, and in the face of an error-strewn Blues defence, were able to get over once again to bring the score to 22-12. Unfortunately for them, the Blues were able to get one straight back through Connor Willies, who went over after Brooks coughed the ball up. 26-12. Magic Peplopski and Will Thorpepark were making headway in the wide channels, and more stern defence led by the Nou Camp’s finest was standing the Blues in good stead. Clearly, some members of the Blues side decided that it was all going a bit too well, so Louis Clarkson proceeded to give himself a bit of a break in the bin after a tip-tackle. Sausage. Down to 12, the Blues couldn’t keep Brookes out, taking the score to 26-18. This worried Roper, who showed his concern by continuing to moan about his jaw. Luckily, just as the clock struck Quez, Tristan, half-man half-onion, ran a line so sharp spectators’ eyes bled, slicing untouched through the Brookes line and straight over the whitewash. With another successful conversion, the score was 32-18. With an emphatic final try from Felix ‘slippery bastard’ Rathbone, the Blues closed out the game 38-18 to the good, and already looking forward to an equally strong performance at Derby Day in two weeks