McGILL CROWNED EASTERN CHAMPS IN 19-17 VICTORY
McGill Takes First Eastern Canadian Crown in Nail-Biting Victory; Club Side loses in Close Match
As the day wound down, hours upon hours rolled into one as our vessel of transport smoothly traversed the rugged countryside of Eastern Quebec and the majestic province of New / Nouveau Brunswick.
It was a true test of mettle for those brave enough to arise at the early dawn, fight off the demons of the night before and make it to the bus. The prospect of a thirteen hour drive never looked so good. Especially for Mike Maloon, who really was at the bus stop, but came thirteen hours early in anticipation and subsequently was asleep in a nearby bush...
The Club side was thrown into Battle first, a reconnaissance of sorts, to see what kind of stratagem the Black Shirted Dalhousie team would utilize. We found out early that it was not only the funny-accented that one had to worry about, it was also the stiff Maritime Wind and the fish-scaled Nova Scotia turf that one had to look out for.
The game started with the Club side coming out with the fervor and gall of a blood-thirsty hyena. But this attack washollow. Unfortunately McGill was unable to scavenge any points, only amassing two blood subs. Dalhousie then drew more blood with converted two penalty kicks by McGill Alumni Frank Hewitt's alter ego. Perhaps driven by their anger over the collapsed fishing industries, this sea faring side was able to pull ahead 16-0 at half.
Much to the chagrin of a spirited McGill side, the yellow-trimmed Tigers had the lead. Fortunately, with some wily position switches, Colin Gallacher / Hasan Akbar and Spencer Longley / Trevor Clarke, and the trade winds blowing in their favour, the tides of this bloody slough were about to change.
The heavy artillery that was the McGill forwards battered away at the Dal. defense. Julian “All Game Long” Galiano Celestino fared better than he had all season. Nitai “this ain’t no Mossad” Ben-Shach juked and pushed the salient across the opposing trenches with the help of veritable Canadian royalty, Max Meighen and Aleks “Milosevic 2.0” Vujicic.
As if his political rants and rugby style had somehow merged, francophone Jean-Marc Lacourcière began to run on ravaging tangents, scoring two tries with the help “Fire Flash” Devon Howard’s unfathomable line breaks, the red-shirted pulled within two points in a 23-21 heartbreaker.
In the end, despite Admiral Akbar’s sublime interception, it was a trap from the beginning. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dddAi8FF3F4
The Redmen fell 23-21 after one of their finest performances of the season.
VARSITY GAME
The untested varsity Redmen squad was eager to face their opponents, facing them at centre they were derelict, comparable to the sight of a regiment of conscripted soldiers. But it is fair to say that the Dalhousie A’s fared the same in their conference as McGill had in the QSSF, so, it was to be a battle of the East-of-Ontario titans.
Whether it be the salted, piercing breeze or the call of the rare Eastern Canadian Timberbears summoning Dave Tontini to gather food for hibernation, the stage was set and the game about to start. The mood was tense as the unambiguous, sniper-like foot of Alastair Crow looked to pick apart the Tigers in a most biblical way. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ab7XIb4Uj7Q, McGill’s veritable berserkers of Maxwell Gregory and Cayse Ruiter prepared their Wolfsbane, the one-man wolf pack that is Kyle Buckley coiffed his hair to perfection juxtaposing Bryce “Old-Man” Thomassin adjusting his new hip.
But it was the Tigers of the East, coming out with a bang comparable to Halifax’ claim-to-fame explosion of 90 years past. Unconverted, the try was all a part of McGill’s “false retreat” plan. Kyle Buckley smelled the sweet ichor in the hearts of all the native supporters. The Try was his.
7-5 McGill
The fight was back and forth, the ebb and flow finally fell in favour of the locals. Anton Nestle possibly could have had his allegiances confused for a second, and the some of the Redmen might have followed suit. The fall tide rose and Dal snuck in a try right before the half whistle blew, 12-7 Dalhousie at the mid-way mark.
A new dawn, a new day. The Red of McGill’s jersey flounced as bright as the passion burning in the eyes of the varsity squad, even the seemingly docile and abstract Al Crow got into a brief scuffle, for which he profusely apologized.
This new presence lead to deep-sea like pressure from the Redmen. As the McGill subterfuge of submarine like stealth progressed steadfast, it was undermined only by the seeming guessing game of the depth charges thrown by the Dalhousie team.
Colorful Argots rang out from the stands like the church-bells of old... ah Halifax, we hardly knew ye.
A break! Crazing the line for hard-fought yards, McGill’s resident Judoka, Keelan Chapman, who is most natural in awkward male-on-male positions, was in the perfect place for a puncturing score in the corner the corner. 12’s apiece
McGill’s coaching staff was also stirred. Getting into a spat with Andy Dick....er, I mean their blond fro'd Hooker. Regardless, he could not compare to the surgically precise rhetoric or the Cicero-like oration from the McGill sideline supporters.
Erroneous luck seemed to be the only thing keeping Dal in the game. In every situation that a toss-up occurred, it always seemed to fall into the hands or in favour of the opposition. It lead to the unimaginable, the incomprehensible. With the ever-so-rare knock-on forward pass combination. Dal. scored. 17. 12. Damn.
Unfazed, the Redmen responded within a matter of SECONDS. The retributional play of Anton Nestle and Roderick MacKenzie combined with a final push from Al Crow finished with a try. In strong winds, a deified side-line kick from Gideon Balloch held true and gave McGill the lead.
It truly was turning into one of the most entertaining games of the season. Devastating runs, Bastille-isitic raids of rucks and scrums, dangerous plays seemingly only punishable by the Hauge. It was a crapshoot of hackneyed rugby plays, errors and successes alike. Dalhousie’s legginged winger turned, bent and drove Dalhousie into a seductively threatening position, only to be dammed by the great Red Wall that is the moral justice of the McGill backs.
The highlight of the game probably Drew Jarisz’ kick and chase. More like a toe-punt and frolic, Drew was probably so giddy at the idea that he did not hear the whistle blow till much after he ran past half. From the sidelines it seemed like an over-hyped cinematic Comedy, we all had such high, potential hopes, yet it just didn't work out, sorry Drew, maybe next time.
With the ominous score of 19-17 for McGill lingering in the air, the ball was kicked out of bounds. The final whistle blown.
McGill was victorious
One, single tear fell from the eye of James Stellick, but no more.
Of course, this lead to a night of celebration. Such a broad spectrum of events painted the town of Halifax into a fine Renoir classic. Michele getting i.d.'d (take it as a compliment, girlfriend), the solicited sale of alcohol to minors, and, not surprisingly, more than one Redmen tasted that sweet, sidewalk cement.
Someone really shouldn’t have switched a certain individual’s 4% coolers with the 6.5%. We’re sorry Atlantica Hotel, we thought people could hold their liquor.
Unfortunately, this young scribe could not partake in any of these late night festivities, for he had been branded on his hands with the 'X's of a '91 birth. So close, yet so far...
But I can tell you the order to which my roommates got home...Clement Bisserbe didn't make it out (blame it on the floories), Mike Bordeau, Dan Levin (broken finger and all), Devon Howard, 5:45, the bus is leaving at 7. Way to go boys.
It was a great season, congrats and good luck to all the graduating players. As for the rest of you, i’ll be seeing you around for a few years to come.
write up by Trevor Clarke.
