BENIDORM SEVENS EASTER 2002
When first asked to write a piece for the program about tour, the alarm bells rang extremely loud in our ears, along with the phrase “What goes on tour, stays on tour” However, upon the insistence of Paul ‘Little Hitler’ Elliott it had to be done. So using the strict guidelines of
1) The names have been changed to protect the innocent,
2) Never let the truth get in the way of a good story,
3) A travelling wig, is a happy wig
Here goes.
After the 6am meet, everybody’s bleary eyes and early morning grumpiness, were soon dispelled by the happy cheery face of Mr Tony Woolley there, as always, to greet us with a smile at the club.
As people were dragging themselves through the doors, and the initial laughter of the tour hair cuts and colours had died down, especially the clown who had dyed his hair from ginger to a lighter shade of ginger, then the tour goody bags were distributed over a pint or two.
Everybody had arrived, all the cheap tour rugby shirts had been donned, so it was onto the bus, vaccinator and all, to get this odd shaped crew to East Midlands Airport for the trip to Benidorm.
The bags are checked in, the first of the 3500 tour stickers were strategically position by Martin ‘kid with a new toy’ Davies, and pints 4,5&6 were soon ticked off, on the Luke Stringfellow 24 in 24, 24th birthday challenge.
Within 16½ mins after take off, the plane was dry, first the beer, then the fashion accessory alcopops, then the wine……….Capt get this plane to Alicante, pronto, I want a wet. The need for a beer was more so when we landed, as not only did the 45 degree temperature rise form an early Mansfield morning to a blazing Alicante lunch time do wonders for everyone’s thirst, to everyone’s surprise, Ralph had turned up……. enough to turn anyone and everyone to drink.
The bus driver insisted on taking us straight to the tournament (what bloody tournament), but after a few quite words (and plenty of loud ones), It was clear that the ‘Dean Marrow School of Persuasion’ was still as effective as its always been, and the driver soon saw the error of his ways…………. direct to the hotel it was then, and a few more sociable beers sat in the sun, by the hotel pool.
Friday night arrived, with everyone ready to go out, and start the drinking. 30 Santa’s (with wigs) including a very thin Ralph (with wig), a gay looking Mr Claus (Adey with a wig) and a 7ft town crier in full regalia, went to the “Welcome Cocktail Party”. We soon got fed up with that, even though it had a very small free bar, so Ralph decided to liven things up by getting on the decks, and showed the DJ how it was done, move over Pete Tong.
We all soon got fed up of Ralph (as usual) so decided to hit the delights of Benidorm sampling a pot or two along the way. One or two tourists had an early night, (4am), as there were playing rugby the following morning. However those who had the early night were from other teams, as all those from Mansfield were not going back to the hotel until the sun came up. Sod the tournament (what bloody tournament)
Arabian Gear (wigs included) was the order of the day for Saturday, so why oh why, did Adey turn up as a gay Yasser Arafat, who knows.
The Irish bar, (whatever it was called), the scene of much frivolity the previous night, was the venue to watch not only Leicester stuff Munster in the Heineken cup final (this must be the tournament that everybody is on about this weekend) but also Mr Smith to talk us through some of his life’s most invaluable experiences…………….priceless.
For some reason, this is where Manor Close Nibson comes to the fore and stamps his own inimitable wit upon proceedings.
How DID you now it was Jack Daniels????
It is here we unearth the formation of a small but highly organised splinter group, they’ve gone off to some sort of rugby tournament somewhere. (What bloody tournament?) Harsh, harsh punishments will have to be administered to those few dissenters.
Saturday night, the big night out, and a chance for Adey to look gay again, and he didn’t disappoint, there’s not many clubs that can drop on well over 60ft of blue afro wig for a 70’s night, and working under the philosophy of “Look after your wig, and you wig will look after you” a good nights drinking was has by all.
Numbers in taxi’s were somewhat limited, because you could only fit two in the back instead of the usual three, because there was simply not enough room for the mother of all afro’s. It did exactly what it said on the tin !!!!!!!!!!!!
Sunday, day time was a time to keep our heads low from the local police, a few of the very same members of the splinter group, Terry, Jimmy Limo’s, Cowlishaw etc must have robbed a jewellers, how else would we explain us having a large trophy in our possession. It was given to us at the tournament quote, unquote…………….. “yeah right, what bloody tournament ?”
Sunday night, the last night on tour, a night of the stars, (and Adey looking gay…..again). All the big names from the rock & pop world were there, Britney, Ginger Spice, Freddy Mercury, The Coors, Ali G, Bob the Builder, Beach Boys, Eminem complete with chainsaw all came out drinking with M.R.U.F.C. Low and behold what did Adey turn up as……….that’s right the gay builder from Y.M.C.A. After one particular stirring performance in a what looked to be a transvestite bar, our illustrious Mr Smith was offered a lucrative stint for the rest of the summer season, did he come back with us, or is he still there…….Who knows? more to the point, Who cares?
It was decided that the town needed a little re-decoration, and coupled with the need for advertising our good natured visit, what was left (and there were bloody loads) of the MRUFC stickers were deposited far and wide (and high thanks to Stobba). No window, TV, taxi, bar, bar owner, club, pedestrian, lamp post, Hell’s Angel or even the lad that came second in a discussion with Maz, was safe – And his point was?
The gospel according to MRUFC has reached far and wide.
Monday morning was a time to collect our wigs, pay for the damage, a last beer for the brave, or in some cases clear up the fire extinguisher that was let off a couple of days earlier in Chris and Jim’s room. Fingers for this dastardly deed were pointed directly at Mr Limo’s after he had scaled the OUTSIDE of the hotel 12 floors up, with as much subtlety as the SAS assault on the Iranian Embassy in the early 80’s. However his weapon of choice was NOT exactly what he intended. Instead of a good soaking, the room resembled something similar to an Avalanche in the Alps, the idiot had set off a powder extinguisher not a water one as he first thought.
A few (hundred) stickers were deposited around Alicante airport and the plane home was a bit quieter than the journey out, apart from Rushby. I think most folk were to busy concentrating on the ‘Changing Rooms’ job we were doing on the plane with a few hundred more stickers.
Eventually it was back to the club to round of a successful tour with a few beers, and then start the drinking again (like it ever stopped) to celebrate collecting the County Cup for the 4th consecutive year, which was given back to the club during a presentation evening held thankfully, at Mansfield.
Ever your humble servants,
The three wise monkeys.
