5 more great Heinken Cup moments

Ellis the teen tearaway

28^th April 2002

Tigers were rocking, Llanelli were 9-3 up and just before half time had missed a simple chance to go more than a score ahead.  We’d played them twice already and not breached their line in either game; with the weather turning for the worse a 6 point lead was massive.  A scrum penalty to Tigers moved play to a lineout on halfway; the maul was scrappy but off the side burst Graham Rowntree.  His thrust took us to the 22 where Freddie Tuilagi bumped off Stephen Jones and drew in both Llanelli centres as well as half the pack.  Referee Mark McHugh signalled advantage, the chance to close the gap to 9-6, as their 12 got up he gave the ref a plaintiff look but by then it had happened.   Ellis had spotted the gap, when 12 turned his back he struck and burst through the hole, hurdling the pile of bodies.  The full back had him covered, it was close but he would haul him down before he got to the line, great attacking position to roll the forwards over we thought.  But no, Ellis went low and skidded across the turf made greasy with rain, if anything the full back’s attentions gave him the momentum to cross the line.  Back in the game. 

Tuilagi triumphs in Treviso.

9^th October 2010.

Maybe not the best one for confidence ahead of our trip to Treviso but this was a classic example of Tigers mental fortitude.  It was the 77^th minute and we were staring down the barrel of losing away in Italy.  I was sitting at home on the sofa watching with my mates as we hadn’t bothered to go, too focused on organising our trip to Perpignan and complacent having “done” Treviso the season before.  It was not a happy camp.  The air was blue with swear words that would even make Cockerill blush.  But we had forgotten that Alex Tuilagi was not a man who took defeat lying down.  He was not a man accustomed to losing face and didn’t much fancy starting here.  We were deep in our own half, with not much time left but at least had the ball.  Twelvetrees gets it from a ruck and flings it wide to Tom Croft standing on the 22.  He shimmies forward beating a man before passing to Hipkiss, a simple straightening of the line fixes his man and he gets the ball to Tuilagi.  With the snarl turned up to 11 Tuilagi’s got the whole game in his hands on the half way line.  In my lounge we’re on our feet, going mental.  His man is in front of him and the full back is covering in behind.  He shapes to go left on the outside then powers off to his right towards the posts.  The defence evaporates and he’s charging through for the winning try.  Untouched.   Unmolested.  From their own 22 Tigers have stolen it at the death.  Back in Leicester it’s more relief than joy.  We certainly won’t be complacent this year.

What happened next Dawson?
5th December 2004

Wasps were attacking our end.  We’d been up 22-6, they’d got back to 25 all, we’d been up 31-25, they’d got it back to 31 all and finally we were past 80 minutes and were up 37-31 thanks to an Andy Goode drop goal.  The first 20 minutes had been immense we’d scored three tries and blown them out of the water but they’d clawed it back; Dallaglio was like the Terminator just when you thought you’d finally finished him off he’d come back for more and they were back within sniffing difference of the win.  The ruck was on our left wing about 5 meters out.  It was slow ball but not painfully so.  The crowd behind the posts was baying for Tiger blood, the knot of Tigers fans trying to be the 16^th man in the defence.  Dawson was at the base organising his troops for a final push, pointing here pointing there, shouting a lot.   Demanding a penalty from the referee.  Finally he went in for the ball, through the forest of legs in the ruck.  We’re behind the posts and can hardly see a thing, just his head bobbing above the ruck.  Then the whistle blows, he’s knocked it on!  In the forest of legs he’s got caught on a branch.  The Wasps fans are distraught, us Tigers are in Raptures; not only have we won but it’s that pillock Dawson who’s lost it for them!  Happy days in deed.

Even better, on TV the reverse angle showed something rather different; it was Louis Deacon’s hand reaching through that knocked the ball out of Dawson’s grasp and the ref missed it.

Powell’s red card in Cardiff

29^th October 2006

Another classic Cardiff moment.  We were sitting in the front row right in front of this one.  The scrum packed down and White powered through their whole scrum to win the penalty.  Tighthead Gary Powell was not a happy bunny.  Out of the blue his head just jerked forward, planting a Glasgow Kiss right on George Chuter’s chin.  I don’t know what he expected to happen next.  Though it’s fair to say it probably wasn’t Julian White laughing in his face.  It was a good belly laugh too, not a wry chuckle, a wolf laugh.  This game ended with Louis Deacon knocking the ball out of the scrum halfs hands and getting away with it too.  You’d almost think it’s a tactic!

Twelvetrees dream debut, Staunton Saves the day

11^th October 2009

This match really was remarkable.  Billy Twelvetrees was called into the starting line up just 10 minutes before kickoff to make his debut.  Due to the injuries we were suffering we named 7 forwards and Ben Youngs as the lone back on the bench, Anthony Allen was another thrust in at the last moment to replace Aaron Mauger and when he had to withdraw injured at half time we played the second half with Craig Newby in the centres.  After at one stage being 18 points down Tigers had fought back to be only 7 in arrears as the clock counted down.  Twelvetrees had the ball on the blindside about 25 meters out, he swept past Paul James and inside James Hook, holding off Marty Holah and Shane Williams to set up the ruck 5 meters out.  Youngs’s liberal use of the boot eventually freed the ball and Ayerza carried under the shadow of the posts.  This time quick ball and Youngs found Staunton, brought down by Andrew Bishop’s tackle but not held he sprang to his feet and brushed off the challenge of Mike Phillips to ground the ball.  Draw secured, try bonus point secured.

Read the first Ten here.

10 Great Heineken Cup Moments

Ollie Smith gasses O’Driscoll

2^nd April 2005

This is the moment.  We know we can do it.  We can beat these.  It’s a Leinster throw in after a booming clearance by Andy Goode.  Louis Deacon rises above the Irish international pair of Mal O’Kelly and Leo Cullen to steal the ball.  It goes through the hands to Ollie Smith.  He’s up against the Blackrock bullet.  The best centre in the world, the best player in the world.  He’s about to be confirmed as Lions captain.  He’s Brian O’Driscoll, talisman of the Leinster challenge.  He doesn’t stand a chance.  He thinks he can cover the inside runner, leave a gap to his winger.  He’s Brian O’Driscoll.  Walloper of Wallabies, frier of Frenchies.  He can give this Young Turk from Hinckley the outside no problem.  I’m standing on the terrace behind the action at this end, where the old gouge in the terrace was, I can see the gap “GO! GO! GO!”  Ollie is miles ahead of me.  He’s gone, gone, gone.  O’Driscoll is left grasping at air.  The knot of Tigers on the terrace goes wild.  Believing is half the battle.  Half the battle has been won.

The Hand of Back

25^th May 2002

Neil Back was a bastard.  A tough bastard.  A great bastard.  But a bastard none the less.  This was the triumph of his bastardness.  It’s the 79^th minute, though in real time it is more like 90, and the score stands 15-9 to Leicester.  Munster are lucky to be this close.  Johnson’s already had a try ruled out as has Freddie Tuilagi.  Munster’s wing O’Neil came close, only a super human tackle by Austin Healey kept him out.  John Hayes and Graham Rowntree’s scrum tussle has got the referee Joel Jutge’s attention.  He’s on that side as the scrum goes down.  It all happens in a blur.  Peter Stringer is flapping his arms about, Corry has the ball at his feet and Healey fires the ball towards the touchline.  Has Dorian West just won it against the head?  No.  Neil Back, that magnificent bastard, has instead.  Replays show that Lewis Moody tried on the previous scrum what Back achieved to so much derision at this one.  He won the ball.  He “cheated”.  But then, so what?  He wasn’t the only the player to risk a penalty for a turnover that day.  The Corinthian ideal of fair play was old hat when Tom Crumbie was knee high to grass hopper.  You do what you can to win, and if you win then you’ve made the right calls.  Neil Back was a bastard alright.  But he’s my bastard.

Healey rolls over O’Gara

25^th May 2002

 This try epitomised everything that was great about Healey.  He’d been in iffy form in the run up to the final, it wasn’t certain he’d start at all let alone at 10.  But Deano was no mug.  He knew a big game player when he saw one.  And Healey knew a weak tackler when he saw one.  He had Ronan O’Gara in his sights.  A dummy to Rod Kafer was all it needed, O’Gara was bent out of shape showing Healey a weak shoulder and an inside track.  It was a purposeful and powerful burst, the sort that got him 50 England caps on the wing, as he ghosted through O’Gara and his attempted tackle.  Under the posts and after grounding the ball he flicked the Munster fans behind the goal a cheeky V sign.  V for Victory perhaps?

Stimpson hits the bar then post

April 28^th 2002

Llanelli.  In Nottingham.  It wasn’t going exactly to plan.  They’ve been all over us, though have never threatened the try line.  It doesn’t matter.  Llanelli 12 Leicester 10.  The final’s to be in Cardiff against Munster.  The clock is ticking down and Llanelli are safe in Tigers’ territory.  It’s a scrum just past the Tigers’ 10 meter line.  Darren Garforth gives one almighty shove.  Martyn Madden buckles under the pressure and referee David McHugh whistles for Garforth.  We know the script from here: kick for the 22, maul it forward, ruck it centrally and have Goodey, Geordie or Stimmo drop the goal.  West and Johnson are deciding where to chuck it in, when Stimpson has a different idea.  “I’ve got it” he says.  On the angle it is 60 meters easily, even on a short football pitch like this.  Behind the refs back he steals a metre.  Has he got the legs?  Only one way to find out.  It starts to drop, is it going to make it?  Short, oh my god its short!  BANG off the cross bar, its ballooning up.  The Leicester fans in the Trent End are blowing it over, the Llanelli fans behind the posts blowing it out.  BOFF off the post.  Splodge in the mud.  The crowd roar as the touch judges raise their flags.  We’re going to Cardiff.  Thank god for that metre.

Healey’s break, Lloyd’s finish

19^th May 2001

This was of course the greatest of them all.  20,000 fans travelled to the Parc Des Princes.  And we were losing.  Diego Dominguez had kicked 9 penalties and a drop goal to give Stade a 30-27 lead with only moments to go.  How long?  Nobody really knew.  This is France, there was no clock.  Obviously.  Why would we need a clock?  It’s only the European final!  It’s a lineout about the half way line, just inching into the Stade half.  Its slapped back on the Leicester side and Hamilton flings it towards Healey.  The Stade defence is rushing up.  But it isn’t in a line.  There are more dog legs than a Korean buffet.  Venditti is the unlucky one singled out.  Healey is through the gap with only Christophe Dominici between him and the line.  But he’s slowing, he’s cramping up.  Not now Austin any time but now!  Leon Lloyd is steaming in on his outside from his right wing position.  Healey spots him and times his pass to perfection.  Lloyd is now in foot race with Dominici to the corner flag.  To the victor the spoils.  To the victor a European title.  Nobody beats Lloyd to the corner.  Not today. 

Ospreys’ wings clipped

December 18^th 2005

This was an ugly game, Ian Evans has taken Ellis out with as vicious donkey kick after the whistle and Gavin Henson has kicked Moreno in the head after breaking his nose with an elbow.  Tigers are deep in their own 22 with the clock showing 80.  Down 15-10.  This is going to take some doing.  Ospreys have never lost a game at the “Liberty Stadium”.  We need some magic, some inspiration.  We need Andy Goode.  I remember the two keys moments of this move differently.  The first I remember the TV view, the second from my seat.  The first: It’s a ruck inside the Tigers 22, the defence of the Ospreys is narrow.  Tom Varndell is not in acres of space, he’s in hectares of space.  Goode finds him with the cross field kick and he is haring into the Ospreys half.  Stefan Terblanche is the last man back and makes his tackle.  If we’re not careful we’ll lose this.  Ollie Smith arrives in the nick of time.  His rucking is superb, he hefts Terblanche out the way but stops himself so he can bridge over the ball and keep it in the ruck.  We’re now back into my view, high up the stands on the 22 we’re attacking.  The ruck is on the other touchline.  Leon Lloyd is the senior back and takes charge; the ball comes out to him in the middle of the field.  He finds Dan Hipkiss on his outside.  Is this the moment?  No.  It’s another ruck.  Lloyd is still bossing the play and runs a switch to set up another ruck.  Hipkiss is back up and is on the blindside wing, near to us.  Lloyd is still playing fly half.  He goes to the line.  He attracts the defenders.  Hipkiss is arching his run in to support him through the contact.  But Wait!  No he isn’t, he’s got the pass.  He’s slipped through the net.  He’s round the posts and the Tigers faithful erupt.  That’s why Lloyd was playing fly half, he’s a bloody genius at it.  What bushel has he been hiding that under?  Goode converts and Tiger have a famous victory.

Dupuy’s dummy

11^th April 2009

This is Vesty’s moment.  This what he dreamed of watching Jez Harris growing up, this is what he dreamed of:  The drop goal hero against the most hated of foes.  Bath. Spit.  He remembers 1996 and 1994 and 1989.  Bastards.  This one’s for Dusty, for Dosser, for Deano.  Bath know it too.  The scion of the club.  4^th generation Tiger.  His name has always been destined to be written in the stars.  He lines up in front of the posts to drop for glory.  The ball is whipped back and the Bath defence is on him in a second.  He’s no time for the kick.  The Bath defenders look pleased.  Then the roar.  They turn to stone.  A funny sick coloured stone but stone none the less.  The Leicester team is streaming into the end zone.

What’s happened?  Dupuy has happened.  The Bath defence is so quick on to Vesty he never passes the ball, slipping through the fringe defence and grateful for Nick Abendonan’s turnstile defence he’s under the posts.  Sept points.  Always in the shadow in of others in France in Leicester he’s found the limelight.  He couldn’t look more French if he had a string of garlic cloves around his neck a Gauloises between his lips and a wife on one arm a mistress on the other.  He couldn’t be a bigger Leicester hero if he’d been berthed on the Crumbie.

JC kicks us to Edinburgh

3^rd May 2009

We’ve bottled it.  14 points up “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” ringing in the Welsh ears and we’ve blown it.  Jamie Roberts has destroyed us, he’s going on the Lions tour and you can see why.  We hang on into extra time, JC tries an outrageous cross field kick which Tom Croft takes to within an inch of the line.  Who does he think he think?  Forwards don’t kick we all know that. 

It comes down to penalty kicks, the first time since the 1981 French Championship, though no one remembers that at the time.  Cardiff get first shot.  To begin with it’s all going swimmingly, Vesty, Dupuy and Geordan Murphy have slotted kicks as have Blair, Robinson and Halfpenny.  Disaster.  Johne Murphy the Naas winger has hooked it left.  His John Lilley inspired technique has let him down.  Tom James the Cardiff winger has his kick for the first ever Welsh final.  I couldn’t even look.  People talk about heart in the mouth moments, but in reality it’s more like stomach hanging half way out your arse.  Relief.  He’s shanked it wide right and I haven’t shat myself either.  Scott Hamilton the unflappable Kiwi is not flapped as he buries his kick into Glanmor’s Gap.  Richie Rees squeaks his in the bottom right corner.  What’s happening now?  Tigers have sent flanker Craig Newby up.  Lions tourist Harry Ellis is available, surely as a back he’d be better?  It matters not, his slow and rhythmic style ticks another over.  It was probably the best kick so far.  Martyn Williams is up for the Blues.  Pontypridd’s finest is considered a footballing flanker, surely he’ll have no problem?  He looks nervous, shifty like a golfer with the yips.  He snatches at it.  It’s missed.  I’m going wild in the stands.  This is it boys!  Lion Harry Ellis will slot it and we’ll be heaving into Edinburgh before you know it.  Wait.  That’s not Harry Ellis, its Jordan Crane!  Blonde hair slicked back with sweat, the baby blue scrum hat left back on half way.  He lines it up.  The contrast with Williams couldn’t be more different.  This is a man who knows his place.  He trusts his skills.  Pandemonium in the Leicester end, across the aisle in the Cardiff block its rock bottom, dejection.  As he finishes his kicking stroke JC celebrates, is he yawning?  Is it some bizarre red Indian pow wow gesture?  He’s enveloped by Scott Hamilton.  We don’t care and drunk on victory (as well as the beer) we celebrate the night away in Cardiff.

Much later we find out JC kicked in his school team ahead of Shane Geraghty and Ryan Davies.  No wonder he was confident.

Varndell’s try sinks Stade

April 1^st 2007

I can still see this try in my mind’s eye.  Hipkiss, who never passes, has the ball going towards the Alliance & Leicester stand, he steps one man and is left with two defenders in front of him and Tom Varndell on his right hugging the Crumbie touchline.  Bergamasco straightens his shoulders for just a second.  BANG. The pass, and Varndell with it, is gone.  He’s destroyed him taking 10 meters before Bergamasco can blink or think.  Made him look an April Fool.  Under the posts, Goodey converts and Tigers have their 1 point lead they never lose.

Tiger’s pack, O’Connell’s folly

20^th January 2007

It’s 8-6 to Tigers.  60^th minute.  Tomas O’Leary’s kick through has got Munster a penalty 5 meters out.  Penalty for the lead or Try for the win?  Try to crush the soul and the spirit?  Try is what O’Connell wants.  Scrum down he tells Joel Jutge.  Scrums, Jutge, Munster and Leicester, what could go wrong?  Heave 1, and it’s down.  Heave 2, and it’s up.  Heave 3 and Julian White monsters Marcus Horan, splinters the Munster pack and the moment is lost.  Soul intact.  Spirit higher than ever.  7 minutes later Ollie Smith seals the win and Thomond is demolished both in fact and mythology.