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Rugby World Cup 2019: Scotland must do-or-die against Samoa in Kobe

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Rugby World Cup 2019: Scotland must do-or-die against Samoa in Kobe

Finn Russell attempts an offload during Scotland’s 27-3 defeat to Ireland in Yokohama

Rugby World Cup 2019 Pool A: Scotland v Samoa Venue:Misaki Stadium, KobeDate:Monday, 30 SeptemberKick-off:11:15 BST Coverage:Full commentary on BBC Radio 5 live and Radio Scotland, plus text updates on the BBC Sport website and app

For the guts of a week, the Scotland players have tried to move on from the events of Yokohama against Ireland. Not an easy transition, that.

Every day has brought a new inquisition, new questions about their mentality and their ability. It’s been uncomfortable and occasionally brutal. In various reports they’ve been called spineless, clueless and pathetic. One headline ordered them to hang their heads in shame.

At times you felt some players wanted to jump across the table and throttle their interrogators at their hotel in Kobe, but a media conference is not the place for them to vent their fury. All of that should come out against Samoa under the closed roof at the Misaki Stadium on Monday.

After the week they’ve had then, a response is surely coming. Scotland need to start well at the Misaki, need to work harder, need to defend better. The list of things they must do – and didn’t do last time out – stretches the length of Sannomiya, the city’s main drag.

Bonus-point chasing is risky business – McInally

Scotland make five changes for must-win Samoa game

Shock Japan win will ‘ignite World Cup’

Samoa will see Scots as wounded animal – Lamont

The most recent meeting of these sides – a 44-38 Scotland win at Murrayfield in Gregor Townsend’s fourth game in charge – showed the extremes of this team, its excellence and its flakiness. Scotland played some class rugby to sail into a big lead in that game. They mauled Samoa off the park, scoring two tries off driven line-outs, both touched down by Stuart McInally.

Then, they fell asleep. Samoa piled through a dozing defence again and again. They scored five tries that day. Scotland scored six. Townsend doesn’t need such drama this time. He needs a professional and clinical performance free of mental frailties. Or else.

Blow torches, ripping it up & Bradbury’s moment

Townsend has taken a blow torch to the squad that failed so woefully in Yokohama. Some senior men have got it.

Being Scotland captain for two years offered no protection to John Barclay, who has been dumped from the match-day squad. Being captain in Scotland’s second last game was no help to Ryan Wilson, who’s been demoted to the bench. Being one of the country’s highest try-scorers was no use to Tommy Seymour who has also missed out on the 23.

In their place, mostly youth. Darcy Graham – a pocket battleship, a terrific finisher and a player on form – was unlucky not to start against Ireland, but that chance has now come. Graham sounded psyched for the battle when he spoke on Saturday, as did outside centre Chris Harris the day before. If Harris can back up his words with actions, then it won’t just be the Samoans who are hitting hard.

There was agony in losing Hamish Watson, but Townsend has ripped it all up in the back-row. Magnus Bradbury has gone from living a parallel universe in Japan – in the country but not in the squad, existing in the margins as injury cover – to being at the heart of the action.

One of the myriad problems against Ireland was the lack of ball-carrying grunt up front. Bradbury can do it – and he can do it well.

His tendency has been to do it in fits and starts in games. An angry Bradbury needs to turn up against Samoa because this kid can play and fight when the mood takes him. If he’s ever going to mark himself out as part of Scotland’s future then this is his time, this is the moment.

Magnus Bradbury comes into the back-row after Hamish Watson’s World Cup was ended by a knee injury

Scotland lacked energy and aggression and work-rate against Ireland. Ireland’s dog was a Rottweiler. Scotland’s dog was a poodle.

Jamie Ritchie’s elevation ups the growl factor. Good on the floor, good in the collisions, decent with ball in hand, Ritchie has the tough job of replacing the injured Watson. He’s no Watson in the specifics of ball-carrying and groundhog, but he’s got a similar edge as Watson. He’s got the same appetite for work, the same kind of hardness.

In between them, there’s the great unknown that is Blade Thomson. All that we hear is that Thomson is different to anything Scotland has in that position. He’s a ball-carrier with game intelligence and footwork, a clever thinker, a back-row forward with Scottish ancestry but very much of the New Zealand school.

Thomson needs to be as good as his team-mates say he is. The evidence so far is inconclusive. He hasn’t played enough Test rugby to settle the argument one way or another, but he deserves his chance.

Scotland’s back-row against Ireland had 146 caps. Their back-row against Samoa has 23. In his search for energy, Townsend has sacrificed experience. Not too many people will disagree with the calls he has made.

‘The biggest day of Townsend’s coaching life’

This is monumental stuff for Townsend. The biggest day of his coaching life and one of the biggest days of his rugby life. If it doesn’t go well, then Scotland are goosed and this World Cup will go down as the worst in their history.

The fallout would be scary. Townsend and his staff would be pilloried to the point of demands being made for their heads. The players would be subjected to the kind of slating that would make the reaction to Yokohama seem like a warm-up act. In defeat, Scotland would have nowhere to go bar a deep, dark place.

If they have anything about them, then there’s a big performance coming against Samoa, a nation all but abandoned by the powerhouses in world rugby. Samoa have little money and little opportunity to improve. You could write a book about their plight, but the bottom, and sadly unchanging, line is that the treatment of the Pacific Island countries is a scar on rugby.

Maybe that sense of isolation gives them an extra anger to feed off. They are still very much alive in this World Cup, having beaten Russia with a bonus point. Another win against Scotland and Pool A will have had a second seismic result following on from Japan’s unforgettable victory over Ireland on Saturday.

On Yokohama form, Scotland are vulnerable. What we know about Townsend’s team, however, is that they can bounce back quickly from disappointment. They need that resilience now more than ever.

After Wales hammered them in the opening game of the 2018 Six Nations, they then beat France and England in their next two games. When the USA upset them in Houston that summer, they followed up by destroying Argentina in Resistencia. When France took them apart in Nice last month, they found something in adversity and did them in the return game.

Gregor Townsend has gone for youth over experience in Scotland’s second Group A match

Clear signals and signals of intent

Japan’s win of the ages has crystallised Scotland’s challenge here. Mere victories are not sufficient any more. They need bonus points now, beginning with Samoa, a team that has in the recent past caused Scottish sides to break out in a rash. In the past five meetings, the Scots have won four of them but the points total across those games is 130-126 – in Samoa’s favour.

It’s true that this vintage doesn’t look as good as their recent predecessors, certainly not in the same class as the side that pushed Scotland to the wire in the World Cup four years ago. That was a terrifying afternoon in Newcastle. This version has a lot of the power and attrition of the sides that went before but not quite as much of the game-breaking brilliance.

They are also without some important men. Rey Lee-Lo, the centre, and Motu Matu’u, the hooker, are both banned after their reckless headshots against Russia. Their number eight, Afa Amosa, is out of the tournament with a knee injury. Scrum-half Dwayne Polataivao, scorer of two tries against Australia in a warm-up game in early September, hasn’t recovered from a concussion sustained against the Russians.

Depleted, they’ll still bring a rage to proceedings. As their coach, Steve Jackson, has put it: “We’re under no illusions about what Scotland are going to bring in that area [physicality] and they should be under no illusions about what we’re going to bring.”

Samoa are not happy with the Scots. In the wake of those Lee-Lo and Motu’u high tackles against Russia, Greig Laidlaw said they wanted referee Pascal Gauzere to keep an eye on the way Samoa go into contact on Monday. Not unreasonably, Laidlaw said that Lee-Lo and Motu’u should have received red cards on the night instead of yellow.

Jackson was unimpressed by Laidlaw’s intervention. “There’s obviously been a lot in the press with people making things a little worse than they already were,” he said. “Things put in the media by people in the Scottish squad, talking to the referee about our tackling and all that sort of stuff.”

There was always going to be a major edge to this game and the chat in the preamble has only added to it. As one Scottish player after another said last week, this is do-or-die now. They either front up or they start getting ready to go home.

#do-or-die #Samoa

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long-way-down-rp-archive · 8 years ago

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Des Doran

TRUE NAME: Eh? Probably not? FACECLAIM: Dominic Monaghan NICKNAMES AND ALIASES: Trumpet; Sticky Fingers; Dope DATE OF BIRTH: August 23, 1989 AGE: 27 GENDER: A boy, apparently. Too busy for that noise. KIND: Human CALLING: Practitioner - Oracle OCCUPATION: Busker/composer

DISTINGUISHING MARKS: Hands usually stained with ink. Tattoo of two adjacent spoons behind right ear. Usually in unkempt and scruffy clothes except on Sunday when he goes to various churches to listen to the service.

PERSONALITY: Jumpy, easily startled; Capacity for intense focus; Codependent, trusts easily; Self-deprecating; Easy laugher; Naive and optimistic; Inquisitive; Charming when he needs to be, especially to little old church ladies.

HISTORY:

Raised Catholic by a devout mother, and raised atheist by a quietly sensible father. Raised musician by everyone else. His grandmother Klara died when he was four, and he has very few but vivid memories of her at the kitchen table conducting the family band (papa and pépé) with a pair of spoons, tapping out the beat and singing full throatedly off key. When she passed away, pépé fell into a deep depression and left the house to live in a care home which, without regular access to a keyboard, only deepened his depression.

Des keenly felt the loss of his mémé, the colorful, songful woman who lit the room with sound and excitement. Losing his pépé from the house was nearly as difficult, and he started sneaking out of the house across town to visit him and pester a game of checkers from him. Once Des started bringing him to a nearby church (where Des had charmed himself into weekly access) to give piano recitals his spirits began to improve, and Roland started noticing how much like Klara Des was turning out to be… Playing back and forth for each other, Roland noticed Des would hum along to hymns he shouldn't have known. On a hunch he invented a melody on the spot, and confirming his suspicions, Des cried out, “I know this one! Isn’t it mémé’s?” Roland, never fully understanding his wife’s migraines or odd premonitions, couldn’t offer much insight to Des’ prescience, but at that point he started giving Des composition exercises to bring back to their recitals. As Roland’s depression lifted, he began to tell stories about Klara and the several occasions when she seemed to have a precognitive understanding of events unfolding.

Studying composition at university, Des was always too distracted to much impress his performance teachers, but practically seduced his composition mentor with his focus and determination. Des also managed to unnerve him on a few occasions, with his knack for showing him his own themes and developments before he’d written them down. Orchestration was particularly satisfying, finding colours and textures for the voices in his increasingly detailed visions.

Developing a firmer grasp of his visions, Des entered his master’s program with incredible drive. His performances including students, amateurs, and street performers were well received, and the consensus was that Des had a gift for finding exactly the right players for his works. Audiences were always struck by the powerful sense of unity his ensembles projected, despite their widely varied backgrounds. Des’ favourite recruit was Marius, a trumpet player famous on the streets and in the jazz clubs of Montreal. His sudden death by overdose was devastating for Des. Angry with himself for not averting Marius’ death, Des began ignoring his visions, and self medicating to deal with the increasing intensity of his migraines. He dropped out of school.

At the nadir of his self loathing and self destruction, Des landed in the hospital after taking his uncle’s painkillers. Waking up to silence worse than the cacophony which had been building for half a decade, he visited Roland, who told him the story of Klara’s immigration to Canada, and Des started to hear music again. A nearly overwhelming vision overtook him as he returned to Montreal, lasting nearly seven days, keeping Des scribbling later and later into the nights. He spent the next month and a half writing, reworking, teasing apart the themes and the structure. A giant symphonic work in three movements, the first woven with sounds of Klara, Roland, Marius, childhood and school, the second vast and meandering: cruise control, gasoline, campfire smoke. The third begins with electric guitar, honky-tonk, smoke and whisky calling, beckoning, compelling; then a curious half of a cadence, begging for resolution, release, relief. Buying an old Westfalia with Roland’s help, Des drives.

FAMILY:

Nancy Doran, mother. Municipal government employee, working with the mining union. Devoutly Catholic, instilled a sense of ritual and devotion in her son.

Darcy Doran, father. Retired miner, amateur violinist. A vocal atheist who taught his son to be skeptical but ethical.

Uncle Will - Nancy’s brother, kindly and practical like his sister. He’s a landlord in Montreal, and put Des up in his basement suite during school. Was amused when Des found a piano on the street and lugged it home. Was less amused when Des tried unsuccessfully to tune it but played at all hours anyway. Relegated Des’ “studio” to the basement.

Klara Doran, (née Orlov), paternal grandmother. Played spoons at the kitchen table, deceased. A closeted oracle and former wartime nurse, died before Des was born. Reputably a musicophile, especially Russian symphonies, and collected scores (unfortunately not musically talented herself, and despite her enthusiasm, a nearly tone deaf singer). Kept her divining gift secret from her husband, never fully understanding it herself (her family being estranged from her aunt in Russia, the previous oracle in the line). She would receive painful visions she tried to block out, resulting in crippling migraines and a lifetime struggling with depression. In her brighter moments she would sit by the piano and make Roland play for him for hours, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Roland Doran, paternal grandfather. Retired church organist, living in a seniors home in Sudbury. Chess player, but Des always made him play checkers. Taught Des to play piano.

SEXUALITY AND RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Pansexual, homoromantic, single

OTHER TIES:

Marius - Trumpet player in Montreal who was Des’ most reliable performer.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

Players for his fatalistic symphonies and pieces, i.e., Guardians who need a tip, etc.

An enchanter or some Practitioner who can help him with a little something to clarify and ease his visions.

PERIPHERALS:

The Muses - A cohort of spirits who send visions to Des. They live outside of time which makes relaying temporal messages tricky, so they tend to be jumbled up and difficult to understand. The Muses, representing main instrument families, can disagree or cooperate. They have personalities he might begin to recognize. People who know how can influence them and thus Des’ visions, to warn or lead or mislead. By name and aspect, the Muses are Fiati, the winds, Ottone, the brass, Archi, bowed strings, Klavishnyi, keys, Stimme, voice, Schlag, percussion, and Punteados: plucked strings.

LIKES: Rain, record stores, cabbage rolls, rabbits, wool, radio DISLIKES: Small enclosed spaces (excepting the van), dogs, coffee, cold drinks, elevator music HOBBIES: Checkers, crossword, antiquing, watching the weather channel and feeling superior SKILLS: Music, cooking cabbage on a camper stove. MEDICAL CONDITIONS: Tinnitus, migraines CURRENT FINANCIAL STATUS: $25.33 PLACES: Places with heavy foot traffic. Often along the routes of people in his visions, he’ll play exactly what you need to hear as you pass. PETS: A pet rock, Maggie

KNOWN MAGIC: Des is an Oracle, his gifts manifesting as a kind of clairaudience.

He receives visions as fragments of song and sound. Like hearing every note in a symphony all at once, chaotic, cacophonous, usually quite loud. Major visions can last up to a week, during which Des secludes himself with plenty of manuscript paper and ink. He can be exceptionally grumpy or elated during the process. Hearing melodies and phrases and cadences jumbled together, overlapping, broken or unfinished, Des tries to sort it out by writing it down as music, mainly unfinished sketches for movements and passages. He sketches a piece and fills in details, slowly and methodically over the next week or so, until he finishes it or not. Few completed works, but once they’re finished, they’re a very useful reference for mapping out events about to occur.

When the subject of a vision approaches in time, space, or attention, Des usually starts to hear snippets of the piece it corresponds to. It may vary or develop what he’s written (the flute solo line he wrote plays in his head as a bird flies overhead in a park; the rumble of traffic at this intersection reminds him of the second movement timpani/cello orchestration; the brass fanfare blares as the sun rises). As a foreseen event happens in real time, he has aural “deja vu” as all the puzzle pieces make sense in context. Not every piece is finished, and not every piece is “performed.” He can miss certain sounds or details if he’s sufficiently distracted.

Des tends to receive visions of people experiencing deep emotional movement; catharsis or upheaval, passion or apathy. Appropriately, his music tends to be nearly operatic, and mostly late romantic. Works tend to be indicative of the character of the object(s), though, and can be widely varied. His favourite music, however, is the serial chromaticism of Webern and Stravinsky. The tightly organized, often cyclical nature of this music is appealing to one who is so often wading through a quagmire of murky suggestion and temporal vagary.

On a few occasions, he’s been able to play his vision for the object as it happens, and there’s rarely a dry eye in the vicinity when that happens. Sometimes these people are connected to him in some way, but more often they are strangers, and he usually tries to make a quick exit afterwards.

MAGICAL ITEMS: None yet. COVEN: None.

RUMORS:

Some idiot was in the way of the emergency vehicles at that fire last week, scribbling in his notebook.

Have you seen that weirdo who plays piano out of the back of his van?

There’s been a post in the classifieds: Musician seeks kappelmeister position at Catholic parish (Orthodox and Anglican also acceptable).

WRITING SAMPLE:

Everything’s in position. Des had parked the van at the mouth of a little alleyway near his mark. After warming up with a few scales, a little Bach, he looked over the page of scribbled notes in front of him. It was rough, but he figured he could pretty much wing this one. Yesterday had been a pretty painless afternoon of composition, and he’d only yelled at two strangers afterward.

A car alarm went off a few blocks away making him jump, but Des echoed the major third softly on the keys, enjoying the way the sound reverberated off the buildings. A clock tower somewhere struck 6 o’clock at the same time a cat knocked over a garbage can a little ways down the alley. Better get started. The rumble of traffic swelled a little, and Des riffed off it, following the little pattern on notes scrawled on the paper in front of him; a little prelude. A well dressed man carrying a briefcase in one hand and a bouquet in the other came bouncing around the corner of the street, whistling. Des matched his tune, catching his eye and smiling back. “Good luck!” he called, making the man grin wider and raise his bouquet in salute. Des watched the man press a small button in front of the apartment adjacent to the alley. He sighed as he matched the pitch of the buzzer, and chuckled as the man entered. Time to play in earnest. As the melody developed and the cadences formed themselves, he cringed, trilling on a high D#. Hearing the smash of glass a floor up time perfectly with the crescendo of the music. Hearing the heavy, stomping footsteps down the staircase to the falling arpeggios. Reaching the final staccato chord as the door blew open and the man stood there, breathing heavily. “Didn’t go well?” Des guessed, starting something more contemplative and soothing. “No. She had company,” the man barked. “Ah, bud, that’s rough,” Des said, turning his head but still playing. “Need an ear? Have a seat.”

The man walked over and sat down on the bumper of the van and put his head in his hands. Twenty minutes and a request later, the man moved on, his heart and wallet a little lighter. Des counted the tip the man left in the jar under the piano bench and smiled. A good night’s work.

#lwdbio

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