5 Talking Points From Saints 25 Hull FC 22

Hull’s Discipline Beats Them

You need 13 men for a rugby league team. Occasionally, you can win with less. In my mind’s eye I can immediately recall one such glorious occasion in 1997 when a Bobbie Goulding-less Saints clubbed Wigan in a Challenge Cup fourth round tie at Knowsley Road on the way to a second consecutive Wembley triumph. Goulding had been swiftly removed from the action for a spectacular assault on the head of Neil Cowie. Had the Facebook groups been around then they would probably have declared it a penalty and nothing more because the game is going soft and there’s no spectacle if we can’t kill each other and why do we have a referee anyway? But in reality Goulding’s leap and swinging arm was reckless and violent, which is probably exactly why it appealed to my 21-year-old self. He had to go.

And so too did the three Hull FC players who departed this one, albeit temporarily, at various stages. At one point FC tried to better their own Gold Standard of indiscipline, their nine-man exploits at Featherstone Rovers in the last round. Yet the black and whites never quite managed to go down to fewer than 11. While both Danny Houghton and Danny Washbrook were off the field Saints scored two tries, which maths geniuses everywhere will need no help in concluding might well have been the difference in this narrow victory for Justin Holbrook’s side.

Decisions Were Right, But Do The Punishments Fit?

All of the decisions from referee Ben Thaler were correct. How Houghton has escaped further punishment from the disciplinary panel for his headlock/crusher combo on Danny Richardson defies belief. Houghton was like that annoying friend you had at school who thought it was ‘affectionate’ to greet you with an exuberant grapple around your neck. You'd smile and play along while secretly wishing there could be no consequences for removing his eyeballs with your compass. For an encore, Houghton swung Richardson around by the head. The Hull man's weight and that of one or two of his team-mates who had come to assist in the tackle fell down on top of the Saints halfback’s shoulders and neck as he went to ground. A sin-binning was deemed sufficient. In the context of the one-match ban handed out to Kyle Amor for dangerous contact on Oliver Holmes at Castleford things seem a little fuzzy on what does and does not constitute dangerous contact. This is what the match review panel had to say about Houghton’s tackle;

“As opponent goes to ground player maintains grip around neck/head area. Other defenders then join the tackle and apply weight to the tackle.”

So we are clear then. It is ok to grip around the neck or head area. Well not ok. You might get sin-binned but you won’t be facing a ban. This lot don’t take any shit, do they?
Moments later Washbrook decided to engage in what is known colloquially (on these pages at least) as shithousing. Louie McCarthy-Scarsbrook was attempting to get up and play the ball when Washbrook needlessly stuck his knee into the head of the former London Bronco. The MRP’s verdict was that it was a ‘petulant act with low level of force’ which is true, but again the message is clearly that it’s something that our game is prepared to tolerate.

Later Masi Matongo charged into the back of Jonny Lomax several days after the Saints stand-off had passed the ball but again sin-binning sufficient according to the MRP. Their commitment to protecting the players knows no bounds as they cave to the demands of those who want to ‘Bring Back The Biff’.

Well this Biff ain’t having it.

Catalans Is The Best Draw, But Not A Gimme

The cheer from the fans still inside the ground could be heard from the cereal aisle at Tesco when Saints were paired with Catalans Dragons in the semi-final draw. The last four ties will be held at Bolton Wanderers Macron Stadium after the RFL decided that the newly-built Rectum Of Wigan was too big a venue for your average semi-final crowd. With Warrington and Leeds the other remaining sides heading to Bolton for the final four double-header on August 5 the French side are, despite a recent revival, looking like the weakest team left in the competition. Leeds are pushing them hard for that honour right now, and in fact Steve McNamara's side defeated that of his old Bradford team-mate Brian McDermott with some ease when the team's met in the league in Perpignan last week. Yet the semi-final date is almost nine weeks away. By then injuries should have healed and we will be coming to the time of year when someone taps the Leeds players on the shoulder and reminds them that the playoffs will be starting soon.

The reasons to avoid Warrington are obvious. Their 23-0 pasting of Wigan was a joy, provided to us almost from the moment when in the third minute referee Robert Hicks told pie skipper Sean O'Loughlin to cut out the nonsense. With no plan-B, poor old crisis club Wigan, in disarray as star players and coaches depart while others drag the club's name through the mud, had little answer to a highly efficient display from Steve Price's side. Even Tyrone Roberts wasn't terrible.

But having said all that the tie with the Dragons is not the gimme that those cheers from within the bowels of the stadium might indicate. The Dragons have rallied from their woeful start to the campaign and their victory over Huddersfield in the quarter-final was their fourth win in their last five in all competitions since being whacked 41-0 by Castleford in mid-April. This is a Saints team that can be unplayable on it's day but which has lost to Wakefield this season already as well as at home to that hitherto underwhelming Leeds Rhinos side. Don't book your Wembley tickets just yet.

Is Sunday A Better Day For Rugby?

I must confess I wasn't at the game on Sunday. Everything I've rattled on about so far has been gleaned from re-watching the game late on Sunday afternoon after I was suddenly laid low by stomach cramps and the kind of diarrhoea that it would take Shaun Wane a month to verbalise. I watched the game as live, without knowing the result and without even succumbing to the temptation to mute Jonathan Davies or fast-forward Robbie Hunter-Paul's on-field intrusions which are becoming ever more needless and cringe worthy. This once great star of our game now resembles an uninvited guest in it, like a stage-botherer at Eurovision.

I mention all of this because I was particularly looking forward to being at a Sunday game. A glorious, sunny day, time for a few beverages and some food while taking in the varied treats on offer at the Westfield Street 'Westfest' Music Festival. It all seemed ideal. Of course you won't get bands doing ropey covers of Stereophonics songs in Bar Java every week but isn't it worth experimenting with a few Sunday games in the summer months? There'll be no World Cup to go up against in 2019 so the desire to avoid clashing with football which appeared to drive the original switch to Friday nights won't apply.

I have got used to going on Friday nights and there will be those for whom Sundays now represent other things and won't welcome another change. But there's no denying that everything feels rushed on Fridays. You get home from work, throw your tea down quicker than Tony Clubb devouring his pie and pea-wet, and then it's almost time for kick-off. Kick-offs that get earlier and earlier as the game is extended by video replays and the new craze sweeping rugby league, simulation. If the game is going to be that slow let's just make a day of it.

Finishing With A Moan

This season has been a mostly positive one so far. We're top of the league and one game from Wembley. There have been no terrible tactics to analyse, not too many losses to lament, and hopes are still high on three fronts trophy-wise. Christ, even LMS has been playing like Shane Webcke. Yet today Saints announced their ticketing arrangements for that semi-final double header. Once again, in 2018, I am unable to purchase tickets from the club and have instead been directed to the RFL. This will likely mean that I will not be placed among the rest of the Saints support, as if my wheelchair makes me some kind of outsider, not really part of the travelling army. I'm Donnie in The Big Lebowski, there but really not there. Tolerated but not welcomed. Shut the fuck up, Donnie.

The communication from the club has got better. In 2015 I was unaware of this policy and was turned away from Langtree Park as I tried to buy tickets for our semi-final with Leeds at Warrington. But just because you tell someone they have a shit sandwich it does not improve the quality of the shit sandwich. I am plainly being denied one of the benefits of my season ticket, what the club likes to pretentiously refer to as my membership. I want to be in that number and I can't be, despite the fact that 20% of Saints average attendance read this whiney old column. Saints will perhaps with some justification point the finger at the RFL but Saints, along with all of the other clubs, appear to be doing the sum total of bugger all to challenge the rules around accessible seating at neutral grounds.

I tweeted about this earlier today and was royally ignored. Nobody wants to criticise the club and this paragraph would have been no doubt deemed unsuitable on certain other Saints-based sites I have written for. So forgive me for abusing the power given to me by my decision to write for myself. The fact is that this exclusivity is just not right and somebody has to be at least seen to be shouting about it.