Victory against The Scum warrants a match report from a wordsmith far beyond my modest capabilities, so I've tracked down Harbour's biggest fan, 'Big' Willy Shakespeare, at his house in Stratford-Upon-Avon, to offer his thoughts and feelings.

HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA- BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

Forsooth, the Gods blew forth the fretful elements hence to the Stadium of Echoes and, contending with the swirled winds and the lashings of the sulph'rous all-shaking rains, the true and devoted legions did huddle together to crack nature's moulds: to throw defiance at Nature's germens; to consign the evil, despised sea-serpents back over yonder bridge; to ingest much ale-of-merriment; and - for but one of the hardy souls - to cast off clothing with gay abandonment.

Nigh on ten minutes had surpassed but yet we had inflicted great pain on these, the most foulest, diseased, clamorous slave-sons of finical knavedom - with Rua, God of the Step, pouncing upon an error of that most cullionly barber-monger of a whoreson rogue, Muliaina, to score by the sticks and bestir our loins.

But t'was the industry of those lesser-knowns which did cast glowing rays upon this most auspicious eve: Lord, McFarland, "JB" Buchanan, the Tongan of most cholerous name, Giacheri (the Moor of Roma). Of such undisputed mettle were these honourable men, at such a wanting hour, to make most grossly infirm the wherewithal of The Scum's pack, and to unfold the malady of those whom we despiseth. For it was they, in their inflamed passions, who did toil so manfully on the plane, as so we did in the stands. With our beer.

Perforce it was, in many respects, a 'bath': insofar as we were favoured, with the jewels of grace, to inflict such brutal and comprehensive punishment on they who have no fathers; and insofar as it was wet. Indeed, t'was just this very nature of the victory which led to one of our brethren removing, most saucily, his overgarments and thus exposing his nakedness outface for the rest to bear witness to the most basest and poorest shape that ever penury - in contempt of man - brought near to beast. And with such this horrible object plaguing our vision, we did pray for that cheeky endsforth whistle to propel us back to the happy hollow of the Poe and Gator.

Many thanks to Willy for his contribution. But afore we go, I must make mention of two newspaper reports:

"Harbour has only beaten its crosstown rival twice in NPC matches - back in 1994 in the round robin - and in 1998 when Harbour triumphed 32-12. Both wins were at Eden Park."
-Andy Wallace, North Shore Times, 31/08

"On a foul night at North Harbour Stadium, the home side were well worth the win - the first over their nearest rivals on the northern side of the bridge..."
-David Leggat, 'New Zealand' Herald, 03/09

The Scum media conspiracy thickens. We can excuse Mr Leggat's indiscretion because he works for a newspaper so devoted to the quest for truth that it prints stories about its own striking workers and - in a triumph for investigative journalism - manages to track down a member of management who alleges that one of the strikers is guilty of "industrial sabotage". Wow! "Management Upset About Striking Workers": groundbreaking stuff, eh? What's next? "Environment-Hater Clogs Atmosphere Every Day" (read: "Man Drives To Work"). Or perhaps, "Savage Killer-Canine Tears Flesh From Leg" (read: "Dog Chews on Bone). Mr Leggat is probably snowed under in his work trying to cover for the insurgent strikers and, hence, inadvertently overlooked our 1995 victory at Onewa Domain.

Mr Wallace's job, however, is to write about sport in the North Harbour region. He has failed the most elementary exam. Quite apart from his inaccurate use of punctuation, he has managed to disrespect the 1995 team which achieved Harbour's first-ever home NPC victory against The Scum. Mr Wallace, harbourrugby.com accepts your resignation. Or an apology and a crate of beer. Or a correction and a dozen. Stuff it, just send us a six-pack and we'll call it quits. No Export Gold, thanks.