Plebs dominated possession in the opening 20 minutes, camping in Luigi's 22 and applying pressure. However, missed opportunities in the lineout and scrum allowed Luigi to escape and strike first with a try against the run of play.

The two teams and the referee thank each-other for a bruising encounter.

We got off to a flyer. James did what James does best, slicing through the defense for the opening try. Not long after, Luca put me through a gap with a neat pass, and I linked up with Will on the wing who finished it off with a hard-working support line. Offloading down the left flank saw Anton cross, and then Zeb's quick hands freed Johnny to storm through the middle, nearly colliding with the post as he dotted down. Lukas added another try to the tally, and James chipped in with another two before the halftime whistle.

He woke up with a heavy head, a dry mouth, and a grumbling bladder. The clock flashed 6:55, far too early, but just enough for memories from the previous day to slowly start returning. He took a few long gulps of water and leaned back, while small fragments of yesterday slowly began to form a mosaic in his mind.

Jack. He had sung loudly, energetically, with such joy that the entire evening had been lifted. Not perfect in pitch, but just right in spirit.

Luca. He had offered someone an oyster with a satisfied smile, almost as if he had discovered one of life’s little luxuries.

Will. Convinced that he tackled harder than anyone else.

Right the match. How had it gone? Had they won? Memories began to return slowly.

James got the ball straight after kick-off and charged forward for a try, fast and powerful, setting the tone immediately. But Erikslund didn’t give up. They pressed our line with full force, attacking like a swarm of angry bees. Tackles hit the ground with thuds that echoed in his head, players flew in all directions, but our defense held strong. After some strange kicks and chaotic moments, Erikslund managed to score a couple of tries – but we didn’t give up.

Zeb got his chance after a knock-on from Erikslund. He caught the ball and sprinted forward, legs pumping, heart racing and the try was secured. The crowd or at least the memory of their cheer sent adrenaline rushing through his body. Half-time: 14–14. Even, intense, nerve-wracking. It must have been an exciting match to watch.

In the second half, Erikslund took the lead with a penalty and a try, but they missed the bonus points. Could we turn the match around? Memories spun around in his head.

Fragments surfaced: Jack and Lex delivering bone-crushing tackles, a brilliant charge down by Harry, and an incredible play by Will, Zeb, and James that led to a try.

The final minutes were unbearable. The score 23–24, just a few minutes left. Adrenaline surged, bodies ached but no one gave up. The referee blew the final whistle. Final score: 23–24. A loss. By a single point.

But the feeling was more than just disappointment. Every tackle, every sprint, every try the entire team had fought together, physically and mentally, leaving everything on the field. Pride was there.

Fragments of the cultural night mingled in his memory: Jack singing, Luca with his oyster, Will still insisting he was the best at tackling.

He took a final gulp of water, leaned back, and smiled faintly.

/Anton

After a tough test against IKSU on their home turf, the Umeå squad made the trip down to Fyrisfjädern to face Uppsala once again.

After a 6 month off season of cold trainings and no games the mighty Plebs were eager to retake the rugby field in a friendly match away against Vänersborg. A fantastic day was had by all with 5 debut players for Uppsala. The final score 31 -34 and a win to bring home.