25 October

Once upon a time...

Mr and Mrs Darling tucked the kids into bed and retired to the parlour for cocoa and hot buttered toast. It was another quiet evening in Onslow Parade and the stars twinkled brightly in a clear sky.

“I think it should be a good day tomorrow”, said Mrs Darling.

“Mmmmmm”, said Mr Darling, gazing up at the stars in the night sky…. one in particular seemed to glimmer more brightly than the rest.

Nana the dog lay asleep on the hearth rug, by the embers of the fire, dreaming of those days long ago when she used to run free on the terraces at the rugby ground around the corner. It was almost midnight and the window was slightly ajar…

The sun shone brightly and the grass at Raving Hill shone emerald green. It was a big, big day in Never Never Land. Toulouse were coming to town and the last time that happened there had Never, Never been a day like it before. And this time they were up against a real fairy story.

Ulster had assembled a star studded cast.

In the thick of the action there were the back row hoodlums, three guys with more snap than a Crocodile, led by “Jolly Roger” Wilson.

And down in the engine room lurked “Capt Hook” Harrison. Hook by name and a right hook by nature, it is said he never hit a man who didn’t deserve it. There was no way this man was going to walk the Plank. As always by his side, and more than a match for those Indians, was Matt, “I’ve only been scalped once” McCullough.

On the quarter deck there was Boss “Smee”, smarter than a barrel of monkeys and quicker than a jack rabbit, while on the half deck, the ever young “Peter Pan” Humphreys was master of all he surveyed. Then of course up there in the top rigging were the five “Lost Boys”, and they really, really, really could fly.

Soon the old stadium was full of flags, and the crowd, rowdy and excited, waited for curtain up. The stage was set…

The fan fare sounded, the choir was in full voice, when, Justin time, a real Pirate strode onto the pitch leading, leading…..no it couldn’t be….leading little Tinker Bell by the hand!!!

Could Ulster sink the Toulouse Galleon and sail on victorious into the setting sun?

The whistle blew, the crowd roared, the ball flew high in the air, the team charged, the flags waved, the earth shook and a new page in the Ulster Story Book was opened….....

Nana stretched and let out a low growl. Perhaps she would go to Raving Hill tomorrow after all.

This production is brought to you by “Three Men and Nana The Dog”, a wholly owned subsidiary of Kimble World

23 October

Fans Eat Toast as Ulster Coast Past French Ghosts.

Sunday. Ten pm came………and went. Sky’s European Round Up failed to appear as predicted. (Not the only folk who apparently failed to appear as predicted this weekend!) A quick glance at the Menu revealed it was postponed until midnight. Until then it was some fat men playing skittles. Back to the kitchen for some more toasted fadge and a cup of char.

The witching hour drew nigh! Surely now I would get a chance to view the highlights of my beloved Ulster……but no….er…..it was a Skittles Baker Frame. (Ghosts aren’t the only things that go bump in the night, apparently.)

Then at last – 1am and the Sky Pundits of the Heineken Cup finally graced our screens. Before long we were treated to the David, Andrew and Isaac show. Then it was time for the in depth analysis of the greatest demolition of the French since, well, since the Huns took in a prolonged sight seeing tour of Paris in 1940. Well, Roger Corrigan set the tone - “I expected Ulster to win, but not by this margin. I mean, Toulouse just did not turn up.” Everyone else agreed. “I mean – this rugby thing is a doddle when its 15 men against the ref, two linesmen, Sparky, a pigeon and a couple of enthusiastic ball boys!”

Said McCall afterwards, “The boys are very frustrated. They came here pumped up to play rugby against the best team in Europe but Toulouse just failed to turn up. This is getting beyond a joke. Last week Cardiff failed to turn up and two weeks before that the Ospreys failed to turn up.”

“It is strange…in the past we used to play some great rugby at Raving Hill and the crowd failed to turn up – now we have record beating attendances and the opposition fail to show.”

A spokesman for the ubiquitous Second Barrier Crew, (now relocated behind the fourth barrier near the half way line), was unable to comment, having shouted himself hoarse at nothing in particular, apparently.

This Scoop report has been bought to you by our Rugby Correspondent Larry N Jitice

23 October

The Hill was alive, with the sound of …

… the second barrier crew and nearly twelve thousand others! Yes folks, Scoop can confirm that the Second, Third and Fourth Barriers Up at the Halfway Line are the place to be when it comes to supporting Ulster. The cry went up……

Give us a “2” ……… 2
Give us a “B” ……… B
Give us a “U” ………U
What do you get? ……. The second barrier crewwwwwwww!!!!!!

And today, the message boards are alive with the sound of praise for this merry band of galoots, but as if that’s not enough, we at Scoop are delighted to bring you our “Scoop of the Season” so far.

It wasn’t an accident that the Good Dr Dave looked up to the terrace when deciding whether to take the points or go to the corner.

It wasn’t an accident that Stephen Ferris looked in the same direction when he was receiving treatment after his injury. If it hadn’t been for the crush his mother would have been out on the pitch with her Ulster Frying Pan to deal with a certain French man.

It wasn’t an accident that UR named their season tickets, “Platinum”, “Gold”, “Silver” and “Ferrous” (however, when the incorrect spelling was pointed out they apparently changed it to Terrace).

And it wasn’t an accident that following his substitution on Saturday afternoon, as the rugby gods and the sun shone down on Raving Hill, Stephen Ferris joined his mummy and the rest of his family on the terrace to sample the unique 2BU atmosphere. As ever, our photographer was there to capture the legendary moment.

20 October

“SLICK” INTERVIEWS REVEAL KIMBLE’S LICKSPITTLES
Filed for Scoop by our psychiatric health correspondent, Ed Case

After shock revelations that Ultimate Ulster Chick has been identified as a potential stalker, SCOOP can reveal that under EC Directive 17953/12a (the “Eye Candy, look but don’t touch” clause), Chairman Kimble has found it necessary to introduce a 2m exclusion zone around his fancyable (yeah, right!) person. To enforce this he has employed minders to prevent this loony … mad … deluded woman getting close to his Chairmanship.

Despite claims that kimble himself is the more deluded for believing this, URSC (Undesirable Ruffians Security Consultants) Head of Human Resources, Smini Smee, placed advertisements in well known journals, seeking suitably qualified persons to apply for the position of SLICK (Security Lackey In Charge of Kimble). They were The FRU Times (Frightening Rough Uns) and Scoop Weakly, (Scared Crapless Of Opposition Props).

Interviews have now taken place and Scoop can confirm that the successful applicants have decided to quit their present employer, the UAFC (Usser Arafat Fatwah Corporation), and join the KFC (Kimble for Chairman) organisation.

The successful candidates, Usser and Sadman, pictured with URSC Head of Human Resources, Smini Smee.

16 October

Sycophant in Pant Rant.
This Scoop review has been bought to you by our Arts critic, B Liszt.

First there was “Bridget Joness’ Diary”, then there was “Bridget Jones, The Edge of Reason”. Now, like so many before, we have “Bridget Jones, The Prequel”, or to give it its proper title “Bridget Jones, The Early Years”.

Hoping to cash in on the success of the first two, the director continues with the tried and tested formula of sauciness, big knickers, good guy/bad guy, big knickers, desperation, big knickers and romance; (did I mention big knickers?).

This low budget, cost cutting, cheapskate production, however, doesn’t pretend it needs the big stars anymore. The young Renée Zellweger role is played by a complete unknown, who is completely upstaged by the Colin Firth substitute, Roger Wilson who has a big part in the movie. As for the cad of Bridget’s earlier life, the ever present Freddie, the closest he gets to Bridget’s knickers is when he nicks them off her washing line and tries them for size.

Poor Freddie hasn’t a chance – he doesn’t have as big a part as Roger!

This film will be going on General release from URSC Productions soon.

Our verdict. Give it a miss!

14 October

“THE ‘A’ TEAM” plan comes together at Ravenhill
Filed for SCOOP by our new Oirish Rugby correspondent, Conn Foozed.

Having read some of the drivel written by way of match reports elsewhere, e.g. by Mollagain in the Snooze Letter, Pressbox in the Bele Tele and Colin Hey Boy in the UAFC, Scoop has decided to bring a bit of quality reporting to the field. Drawing on our experience of investigative journalism, sports politics and general support of all things to do with kimble … Ulster Rugby Supporters Club, on Friday night we sent our man to report on Ulster V Galway at the Sportsground just off the Ravenhill Road in Belfast.

It was alarming that the first noticeable thing at Ravenhill was that despite Ulster’s reputation as the best supported team in the cultic league, only a few hundred fans bothered to turn up for this clash with the country cousins. Our man mingled on the terrace with a small group of vosiferrous … vociverous … vasifer ... noisy fans a couple of barriers up, at the halfway line. To say it reminded him of the “three men and a dog” days of yesteryear, might have been a slight exaggeration, but that was certainly the talk among these galootish synchronized flag wavers.

Surprisingly, these old codgers didn’t seem to be fully concentrating on watching the rugby but during the first half were distracted listening to the sounds gushing from an old transistor one of them had brought with them. Because of the noise both from them and the radio, our man was unable to eavesdrop on what was being discussed, but after frequent repetition of one phrase (“The ‘A’ Team”), came to the inevitable conclusion that this self-styled, self appointed crew of know-alls were considering changing their name to this from something like the “to-be-you crew”. (Mention was made by the one known as kimble of having been wrongfully convicted for a crime they never committed and having escaped. It DOES have a sense of déja-vous about it – AGAIN!)

Whatever their standing on the terraces and in the opinion of the Ulster rugby fraternity, it was refreshing to see that the old standards and courtesies still survive in this professional era. At the final whistle, the crowd in the stand stood in appreciation as first Ulster clapped their visitors off the field, then the visitors in turn clapped off their hosts and finally finally the home team applauded off the merry band of terracites in appreciation of their support.

Strangely one tradition that has not survived is the green shirt of Galway Connacht. For whatever reason, they played in a change strip that looked more like the Cardiff Blues one.

Some things will never change though and it goes without saying that Ulster won.

Final Score
Ulster 13 : 7 Galway

M.o.M – Paul Marshall (who fully appreciated the support from the Terrace and the excellence of the refereeing)

13 October

Travel Broadens the Mind

Leinster, look out!

Scoop is delighted to announce that the “URSC on Tour”, (the travel company of choice for Ulster’s away support) has been awarded the accolade of Scoop’s People Mover of the Month! This entirely new award is sponsored by none other than Declan Kidney, he of Beer Token fame, without whom Ulster’s travelling support might have enjoyed the match at Musgrave Park and would certainly have better enjoyed the long journey home the morning after the night before!

In nominating this award the Chair of the URSC admitted, “Without the full support of our travel partners I would be one leg short of a one legged stool!” Clearly having participated fully in the Munster après ski it is reported that our esteemed leader did not have a leg to stand on!

Certainly the trip appears to have been a huge success, with a full bus load of fans travelling first to Musgrave Park via Newry, Dublin, Cork, the Victoria Hotel, and the Ring of Kerry, before returning via The Sports Gound, Galway, and then on to Connemara, the Cliffs of Mohr, Sligo, Enniskillen, Augher, Clougher and Fivemiletown. On completing his first Circle of Ireland Rally, Dergman was reported to have admitted that he was surprised at how big the island of Ireland actually was. “We travelled the length and breadth of the country and we must have visited every bog in between!” he boasted. “Mind you, none of them compare to those at Raving Hill.” Youngman was surprisingly unavailable for comment.

"Our next trip is the Hogmanay Special”, enthused the legless chair. “We hope to run a fleet of buses to Landsdowne Road for the Leinster match, and remember, this is the last match before we dig the whole place up. This could be your chance to return home with a piece of the auld sod! So why not sign up now for the URSC Garden Party and watch you garden grow.”

Said Dergman, “I will be there for sure, Who knows where we might end up? You have to admit, those boys on the travel committee certainly know how to make a week of it. This could be the trip of a life time!”

If you or any of your friends are seized by a compulsive desire to visit the back of beyond, via Dublin 4, then visit the URSC web site, or speak to the man who hangs around the beer tent on a Friday night.

This Scoop exclusive has been brought to you courtesy of Lost Horizons. Don’t forget - travel broadens the mind! Join the URSC and visit places our drivers never knew existed.

 
Dergman and Grousbeaters prepare for the long journey home!

6 October

5 October

Voting For Christmas.
Filed for SCOOP by our secret corespondent Una D'cover.

Continuing with our policy of not getting caught in posses …… openness, honesty and integrity, and in view of recent events at Mensa Park (other Chubb Clubs are available), we have decided to publish the following document which has recently come into our possession.

Dated December 2005, this was found on a scrap of paper stuffed down the back seat of a No 32 bus.

A.D. Dec 05

I was locked in conversation late on Thursday evening last, in the Crown Bar, with Dr. Stanley Hennessey. The good doctor has a particular interest in sports medicine and all things pertaining to same. As he is apt and I his pupil, when the hour is late and he's had one over the limit or two, he was rattling on. Well my ears pricked up because the doctor claimed that the best sporting turkeys are the FRU. I said nothing as the doctor continued……

”The FRU”, said the doctor, "stuck their heads in the most unlikely and lowest of places, they occasionally got a stuffing and when they took one against the head they showed unusual signs of elation. Best of all and most conclusive evidence”, claimed the Doctor, “that they where best turkeys, was the FRU's posture. They looked like their chest had fallen into their stomachs and the surplus into their backsides. This produced a kind of awkward strutting walk synonymous with turkeys”. The doctor was triumphant.

"So you will present it at the next committee meeting then?" I prompted.

The doctor looked away, "my colleagues, they shun me," he mourned, "everywhere I go, they look away or point at me from a distance."

"Was it something you said on the radio?" I enquired.

The doctor looked suddenly angry.

"Tell you what,” I said, “publish it in SCOOP!"

"AHH SCOOP," said the Doctor brightening up, "they don't mince their words there, those 3 wise men," proclaimed the doctor going all seasonal with joy and full of tidings, not to mention himself.

”Why I'll publish and be dammed, that'll show those committee bods not to ignore me, yes **** 'em", cried the doctor now in full flight, "I will return, I will, I will!, oh yes I'll teach them, not to ignore me."

"The hour is late doctor and I must get your document to SCOOP," I said, "I'm afraid I'll have to put it through the FRU organ, to get it to the SCOOP organ, a complicated and surgical precision process, do you mind?"

At this the doctor looked doubtful. "Don't tell 'em I wrote it, sometimes turkey's turn nasty and to be honest, I would hate to be cold turkey myself."

" Well who'll I say wrote it then?"

"Oh, just say Ballpark or somebody like that, the FRU will understand." groaned the Doctor.

"Is your name really Hennessey?" I enquired.

"What made you think that," he responded, "the only Hennessey I know is this", he stammered, picking up a bottle from the table.
The bottle was half full or half empty depending on how you looked at it.

"Who are you then?” I enquired.

"Oh I'm Stanley," he stuttered.

"You know me don't you?" I asked suspiciously.

"Oh yes, I remember now," he bawled triumphantly, "you’re Livingstone!!"

At this the doctor's eyes closed and he nodded off to sleep, I left him where he lay, the drunken sod. I turned my collar to the cold and damp and hurried into the night. There was a story in there I was sure, but how to let it out?