2012-13 Uncovered: Friday 17th August - Broncos, I, Erm, Well, Bloody Hell!

   It wasn't looking good.  Warrington Wolves were in town.  Warming up for their Challenge Cup Final.  Beaten Wigan and St. Helens in the past fortnight.  And a win over the Broncos would propel them to the top of the Super League.

   Chipper and I didn't care.  Friday night in London.  Trips to the Twickenham Stoop were always fun.  Via HMV, Soccerscene and the chip shop, of course.  And as for the Broncos, they were either jaw droppingly awful or unbelievably good.  No in between.  It's just so much fun going to see the Broncos.

   Just after we stroll in we're accosted by the Big Soup woman.  If we fill in some form we can win some crappy prize of tickets for a game we already have tickets for.  I point this out to be told "You can sell the tickets you have."  Yep, those £1 tickets will fetch a fortune on the black market.  But I didn't mind.  Her norks were fantastic.  And I still have a tin of Vegetable and Sausage on the living room floor.  Yes, that is a euphemism, too, but I do.

   The atmosphere is a thousand times better than the visit from the Shameless mob, and par for the course at just about any Super League game.  There are home and away sections, but supporters mingle freely about.  Tonight, with the crowd barely over 2,000 and the Wolves fans a decent lot, the away section was dispensed with completely.  A nice, relaxed, warm summer evening in London.  There have been worse days out, even with inevitable Broncos defeat awaiting us.

   Except no.  From the off, London are right on their game.  Well, not their game, about a thousand notches above their normal game.  6-0 up after the first set of six and the Sky cameras ignoring the match and concentrating on the roving Phoenix reporter.

   Sometimes, it's all about the timing.  I'm about to file a report when Broncos attack and, bingo, a try is commentated upon.  I may not have been as unbiased as perhaps I should've.  "Get in there" is not in the neutral vernacular.  Chipper is amazed as I am.  And a couple of thousand others.

   We expect a Wolves fightback.  "Warrie, Warrie, Warrie, Warrie Warrington" was the quaint chant from their supporters.  They did.  But not without the Broncos striking back,  24-18 at half time.

   What we didn't expect was the second half.  Annihilation.  Not of the Broncos.  But by the Broncos.  Six London tries.  Six conversions.  38 unanswered points against a side bidding to go top.  What the f*** is going on?  Sure, Warrington may have been 'resting' some players for the cup final, but the likes of Morley and Ratchford aren't exactly going to be missing at Wembley next week.

   Best part of the second half?  With London 44-18, Chipper says "All I want now is for the Broncos to get fif ..."  He didn't even finish the sentence.  Right in front of us, Luke Dorn makes another interception.  The Sky cameras pick up on me raising my arms in triumph even though he has another 70 yards to run.  I point Joe in the direction of the disappearing Bronco, scampering towards the try line.  "There you are."  We both laugh and celebrate.

   The Broncos fans don't know what to do more, clap, cheer, or laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.  62-18.  62??!!  6 points from 22 matches.  Now 6 points out of the last three.  The last time London won 3 games on the trot, the team coach was ambushed on the A1.  By Dick Turpin.  Whatever Tony Rea's got, he's given it to the players.  And they in turn gave it to Warrington.  There's a lot of points being spread about.  And love.

  All I can say is .... Jesus Christ.  To paraphrase Alex Ferguson, London Broncos - bloody hell.

   London Broncos 62,  Warrington Wolves 18