To many political cynics the twinning of towns is a back handed way that corrupt local councillors gain lavish holidays at the expense of us lowly tax paying voters. We may vote for local representation, whilst they anticipate free weeks away with as much garlic sausage and lederhosen wearing as possible. However, just occasionally a ‘Twinning’ takes place that can truly be described as worth while. Some may say that adult, yet artistic, films featuring bath time at the ‘Cheeky Girls’ house would fit such criteria, yet nobody that joined the rugby ratcatchers  this Sunday could say that the ‘Twinned’ event between two closely bordered farms near Malton was anything but positive.

Meeting at The Spotted Cow on a murky yet mild Sunday morning, five terriers prepared to spread their brutality between two farms previously visited in months gone by. The convoy complemented by an array of enthusiastic stickmen made its way to Scackleton and a length of ditch close to a pheasant feeder.

The terrain was unforgiving and as the beaters battled the 1 in 1 slopes, slippery from the weeks rain and protected by thick hurdles of brambles, danders started to wilt. Although rats made themselves known, many taunted the terriers restrained by prickly undergrowth. A couple of our usually reliable outfield stickmen flailed and missed passing rodents as if drunk, middle aged or stiffened by recent invasive surgery. An hour passed and thoughts of a zero score looked, for the first time, to becoming a reality. Time was called on this drive and eager for some easier sport, the terriers and followers made their way to a more productive yard. Two drives were particularly well stocked.

The side of a pig shed saw a neatly stacked pile of angle iron ready for an extension to the building. This heap would have made any night time robbing travellers eyes light up with joy. Such joy was obvious from the yelling crowds that circled the ferrous metals like fighting kids in a school yard. The second deserved drive came from the agitation of a heap of wet timber, whose like has only been seen by the homeless Mississippi victims of recent hurricanes. With the combination of a revving smoker, ample big and daft stickmen to rive and some keen for work terriers a final bag came to 21. Special note was made of ‘Cathra’ who true to form proceeded to become lodged tight, this time in the rotten core of an old ash tree. ‘Billy’ and his somewhat annoying habit of excreting on well walked footpaths thoughtfully decided to empty his tummy in the back of the 4x4 in which he arrived. A point stumbled upon by accident as the owner clambered into the back of his vehicle to find a fragrant yet viscous parcel next to his required coat. With the host farmer thanked for his hospitality the ratpack marched on to their old favourite Hovingham farm to top up the tally bag and work up a little more of  a sweat.

Never ceasing to amaze just how densely populated a farm can be with rats the team quickly scoured over their old battle fields. ‘Coco’ realised the steep learning curve required in transition from junior to senior battling, coming off blooded from a number of skirmishes. However undeterred one of her finest try saving tackles must surely have come as she sprinted down the wing/dirt track to drop and fist fight a rat with what must have seemed in human terms like a fight between oriental pigmy Rory Underwood against Jona Lomu. At one point fears went out for ‘Coco’ in what was evolving into a Hollywood-esque dual. Both pugilists found themselves fighting for their lives in a deep rain filled pot hole, however the mud coated rookie terrier proudly dragged herself from under the trailer that had been her coliseum, rat in mouth the deserved victor. Had ‘Coco’ not have been female it would have been hard to judge who had the largest balls of pride, her or her owner.

Without a doubt the best drive of the day was a cover crop in the form of a heap rubbish inside one the farmers sheds. Before starting the host arrived with his desperate for work terrier ‘Millie’. She leapt out of his vehicle before it had drawn to a halt to join in the battle many compared in brutality to the Normandy landings. In a dark corner of the shed ‘Sydney’ and ‘Elvis’ could barely be distinguished, all that could be seen were the flash of white teeth, the excited yells of stickmen and the high pitched squeaks of dying rodents. The outfield sprinted between farm machinery, alkathene piping aloft as beaters disturbed rats in ever direction from tyres and tarpaulins.

2’oclock came and a pub lunch called, so proceedings were brought to an end. With a final bag of 49 whole rats and a number whose remnants that were left where they fell the rats on this farm took a right royal beating. A match day photo was taken and cars were loaded up. It was at this point that two yellow cards were presented to ‘Billy’ and ‘Cathra’ who proceeded to bolt and kill a further two rats after the drive whistle was blown. These points were not added to the total.

The Malton & Norton Rugby Ratcatchers would again like to thank both host farmers for providing us with such entertainment.