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As we sized up our trip to Amsterdam, we began to question our decision to take the channel tunnel and drive across Europe to get to the Dam. Who needs air travel when you have Burwell’s mini? Mini by name, mini by nature – we squeezed in as much stash as we could and armed with a plethora of protein based foods, we set off to Folkestone get this show on the road.

Our initial advances across mainland Europe went without a hitch, we cruised through clear roads (70mph - tops) and crossed the border into Belgium. That’s France out of the way. Belgium, what can you offer us? Torrential rain, dubious music and savage levels of traffic at the Kennedy Tunnel in Antwerp!

‘Schehfflyltunnel’ read the road sign as we made our approach. I take it that means tunnel then. We’re still in Belgium but the road signs seem particularly Dutch. The Dutch language provides a constant source of amusement to me all weekend. By the looks of things, the process of translating an English word to Dutch involves adding a random selection of letters and jumbling them round a bit.

After the grittiest of traffic jams in Antwerp (the less said about this the better) we found some clear roads and despite the barrage of rain we picked up the speed and starting making some progress. We headed into Holland after stopping for some sausage (a little more protein) and the final part of our trip was done and dusted. We hit the hotel in Amsterdam had a couple cold Warsteiner beers, some chicken satay and hit the hay, the morning would bring an early start for the UR7s guys and gals and our first venture into promotions on the continent.

I woke up to find out that I had been drawn in to a team for the tournament, 6 weeks post knee operation with little more than a couple of track sessions under my belt. Cheers Burwell, thanks for consulting me first!

A Google Map was printed out to guide us to the ground; a leisurely 10 minute drive turned into a debacle, Burwell realising 30 minutes into the journey that the reason we were completely lost was because he was reading the map back to front. Which made his previous comment quite amusing: “It’s almost as if the map’s upside down”! Tom’s outburst can’t be reprinted here but it began with “Oh you are a... ” and rhymed with “Banker”.

We reached the ground, a pair of boots were sourced and one full set of stash later I found myself on the bench for the Plume of Feathers, the team named after the smallest pub in Wales, previous winners of the tournament back in 1989. Some rudimentary calculations were made, and it became apparent that they in fact had enough players and they didn’t need a 13th. So onto standby I went and back came the Saturday night razz onto the itinerary.

The UR7ettes went down a storm at the tournament, turning heads all day and on occasion causing passers by to chirp up with what I assumed to be the continental equivalent of ‘oi oi saveloy’.

The first day’s play featured the usual mismatches as the more competitive sides racked up as many points as possible to help their seeding for the second day. One of the clashes of the day was Samurai vs Leggie’s Legends, the team of front row forwards on tour for the stag do of Blackheath prop Simon Legg, who was my Club Captain at Exeter University. This is a man who loves nothing better than to scrummage, and has been known to purposely knock the ball on to have another crack at his opposite man.

Their tactics were simple. 1) Take a kick off that fails to go 10 metres, start a rolling maul from the impending scrum and score a try from it. 2) Repeat the routine for the rest of the game and hope for the best.

Samurai used all their experience when they opted for the free kick instead of the scrum, effectively scuppering their cunning plan! 77 unanswered points later and Samurai had a great start to a tournament they eventually won for the 5th year on the trot. Leggie was later seen in Susie’s Saloon dressed as the only gay in the village!

As the rugby came to an end on Day 1, the girls made their way back to the hotel and the boys got on the beers in preparation for the Guinness Premiership Final. The clubhouse was packed, so much so that Waisale Serevi had to make do with a seat on the floor! It was great to see the big man at the dam, always more than happy to have a chat and pose for a photo with people. A win for the tigers made Burwell happy; the sight of people straight arm bolting their pints outside in the rain did the same for me. Oh and it’s worth mentioning the canapés being handed out during the game truly were a lovely touch – not something that you get at every tournament.

A large one in Susie’s Saloon ensued, a potent mix of Snakebite & Blackcurrant and Jagerbombs in teacups did a number on us, so much so that I felt the need to lend a hand behind the bar at McDonalds. The queue was massive but for some reason they didn’t appreciate my help.

The rugby got more interesting on day 2 as the more competitive teams came up against sides of a similar standard. We caught the crowd favourites Kooga Wailers’ quarter-final vs Millfield Old Boys, which was well supported on the touchline. The Wailers drew big crowds for all their games; Dutchman Tim Visser’s involvement no doubt being a factor. Millfield were weakened by a few last minute dropouts prior to leaving the UK and were knocked out by the men from the north.

Next up was Stoned Pups in their fully pink stash, complete with tracksuit and under-armour, versus the International Marauders, who were one of two teams with Marauders in their name competing. The Pups edged this one with Ken Aseme having a good game after shrugging off his Susies Saloon induced hangover.

Unfortunately this was the last of the rugby we could squeeze in before we had to front up to the long drive home. A successful weekend ended with a gruelling but traffic free journey through Europe, including the Kennedy Tunnel in Antwerp much to our surprise. Amsterdam done, Twickenham here we come for the London Sevens!

Stewart Turton
for Everything 7s!

We're currently on our way back from the Crown Plaza hotel, out in the sticks near Heathrow, where the IRB Series teams are all arriving for their week in London ahead of this weekend's Twickenham leg.

Robin and I met for lunch with Paul Treu, the South African coach and runaway favourite to take home this season's Series Championship. He is what Will Greenwood would call a 'true student' of the game - one of a growing number of 7s coaching pioneers, continuously looking to advance the game on and off the pitch.

We shared all sorts of specific and more high level views on the game; for example, where it is headed and how to take it forward. It soon became clear that our thoughts are entirely aligned, so we discussed a few ideas for projects on which we can work together going forward.

In particular, he has some great ideas for sharing coaching tips with the wider 7s community and would like to see the 7s scene in South Africa develop. There are currently very few high quality tournaments and not much of an 'invitational' club circuit, as there is in Europe and the US.

In the near-term, he will be joining UR7s as a columnist, sharing his thoughts on a wide range of topics, from tips and philosophies on playing the game to life as an international coach and life on tour.

As we spoke, the Kiwi, Samoan and US teams arrived. The US team really did look fresh, as Robin had written about earlier in the day. Al Caravelli, the US coach, had already read the article and seems to be becoming one of UR7s.com's most avid supporters..! It was great to catch up with some of that crew and see them renew friendships that are built on sharing hotels and running rings around each other in 8 different countries every year.

Word has to go out to Kiwi captain DJ Forbes, however, whose beard vs bald battle is starting to get a little out of control.

TL
For everything 7s