LPRFC D4 52 SSI 15

LPRFC D4 52 SSI 15

In the sweltering heat of an unseasonably hot day, Lincoln Park D4 delivered a performance that will echo through the annals of Midwest rugby, dismantling SSI with a display of power, precision, and occasional profligacy.

The first half was a tale of Park dominance tempered by the cruel hand of fate and the eagle eye of the officials. Twice, the men in gold thought they had crossed the whitewash, only for their jubilation to be cut short. First, it was Delisa, the opportunistic winger, who pounced on a Rosenfeld grubber, only to be ruled to have fumbled at the crucial moment. Then came Clarke’s moment of despair, his try chalked off for a knock-on that had escaped all but the most discerning of eyes.

But Park would not be denied. The converted number 8, Chrisos, injected an element of attacking flair that SSI simply couldn’t contain. It was his pass that finally unleashed DeLisa, who crossed for a try that had been coming since the first whistle. Rottiers, a battering ram in human form, had softened the Irish defense with a bone-crunching break that set the stage for Delisa’s score.

As the half wore on, Park’s superiority began to tell. McCann and Lee added their names to the scoresheet, stretching the lead to a seemingly insurmountable margin. But rugby, in its infinite wisdom, always has a twist in the tale. A momentary lapse in concentration, a misjudgment of the clock, gifted SSI a 5m lineout. From this sliver of opportunity, the Irish conjured a try, a reminder that no lead is truly safe in this most unforgiving of sports.

If the first half showcased Park’s potential, the second was a masterclass in its realization. Delisa, not content with a single score, carved through the Irish defense with a run so mesmeric it left spectators questioning the laws of physics. But it was the power game that truly broke Irish hearts and bodies alike.

Daley and LaFlore, twin titans of destruction, rampaged through the midfield with all the subtlety of a freight train and twice the impact. Daley, in particular, seemed to take personal offense at any attempt to tackle him, brushing aside defenders to score a brace that will give the SSI tacklers nightmares for weeks to come. Not to be outdone, LaFlore added his own long-range effort, a try that spoke volumes of Park’s fitness and ambition.

This was more than a victory; it was a statement. Lincoln Park D4 have secured the Midwest’s number one seed heading into the playoffs, and on this evidence, they will take some stopping. For SSI, there will be soul-searching and bruise-counting in equal measure. For the neutrals, it was a reminder of rugby’s capacity to thrill, even in the face of oppressive heat.

As the dust settles on this encounter, one can’t help but feel that we’ve witnessed the emergence of a force in Midwest rugby. Lincoln Park D4 have thrown down the gauntlet. The question now is: who dares to pick it up?

Team: Wilson J, Rottiers, Modev, Smith, Swancy, Church, Foley, Chrisos, Scully, McCann, DeLisa, Daley, Clarke, Lee, Rosenfeld

Finishers: Rasmussen, Harrison, David, Olander, LaFlore, Walsh E, Schoenes, Lakin

Try: DeLiasa 2, McCann 1, Lee 1, Daley 2, LaFlore 1, Clarke 1,
Con: Clarke 5, Olander 1

LPRFC D2 24 SSI 43

LPRFC D2 24 SSI 43

In the blustery winds of Chicago, Lincoln Park’s D2 side found themselves locked in a titanic struggle with SSI Irish, a match that ebbed and flowed like the nearby Lake Michigan until the men in white finally broke free in the dying embers of the contest.

The Irish, with the swagger of a team that had tasted victory before, struck early and often. Two well-worked tries in the opening stanza gave them a lead that lesser teams might have found insurmountable. But Lincoln Park, showing the grit and determination that has become their hallmark, refused to wilt under the onslaught.

It was Thomas who provided the spark for the home side, finishing off a move started by Wafer that had more twists and turns than a Dublin alleyway. The mercurial Carso, with a chip kick that Ronan O’Gara would have been proud of, set the stage. Finnegan, like marauding Celtic warriors of old, surged forward, dribbling the ball over the whitewash with all the finesse of Messi, before touching down.

The second half opened with the Irish extending their lead, threatening to turn the contest into a procession. But Lincoln Park, much like the city they represent, refused to go quietly into the night. Carso, with a sidestep that would make Shane Williams blush, carved through the Irish defense like a hot knife through butter, bringing the home crowd to their feet and hope to their hearts.

As the clock ticked past the hour mark, the Irish found another gear, one that Lincoln Park couldn’t match. They pulled away, leaving the home side to chase shadows in the fading light.

But there was still time for one last moment of magic. Husselbee, in his Park swansong, crossed the whitewash to put an exclamation point on a career that has been nothing short of remarkable. It was a try that spoke of defiance in the face of defeat, a reminder that in rugby, as in life, it’s not about how you start, but how you finish.

A word must be saved for young Panzica, thrust into the fray early after Rivera’s unfortunate injury. The lad responded with a tackling display that would have made Sam Underhill proud, proving once again that rugby’s greatest stories are often written by its understudies.

In the end, the Irish prevailed, their late flourish proving decisive. But Lincoln Park, in defeat, showed the kind of spirit that wins championships. On this evidence, their time will come, and when it does, the rugby world had better be ready.

Team: Melody, Rivera, Leyman, Davey, Mulkerin, Fehr, DeBacker, Anderson, Aiello, Carso, Thomas, Cooley, Wafer, Finnegan, Walsh J

Finishers: Panzica, Cullen, Mainquist, Keck, Lyons Z, Nolan, Polansky, Husselbee

Try: Thomas 1, Finnegan 1, Carso 1 Husselbee 1
Con: Walsh 2

Lake County 26 LPRFC D4 45

Lake County 26 LPRFC D4 45

The hallowed turf of Gurnee became a battleground of rugby’s raw essence as LPRFC, locked horns with Lake County in a contest that swung like a pendulum on steroids.

From the opening whistle, Park’s Walther and LaFlore emerged as twin battering rams, demolishing Lake County’s defensive line with the subtlety of a rhino in a china shop. Walther, with the grace of a ballet dancer and the power of a freight train, pirouetted down the wing to draw first blood. LaFlore, not to be outdone, added his name to the scoresheet faster than you can say “hand in the ruck”.

In the engine room, props Harrison and Primdahl turned the middle of the park into their personal fiefdom. These behemoths, with necks thicker than most men’s thighs, pounded the turf with metronomic precision, softening up Lake County’s resolve like a tenderiser on a tough steak.

Karris and Clarke, seizing their moment, extended Park’s lead with the ruthlessness of Roman conquerors. At this point, one could have been forgiven for reaching for the whisky to toast an early victory. But oh, how the rugby gods love to toy with mortal expectations!

As if struck by some cosmic jape, the wheels came off Park’s chariot. With Smith making his offering to the porcelain gods on the sideline, Lake County’s numbers 4 and 10 – anonymous in name but Herculean in deed – dragged their side back from the brink. 28-26, and suddenly we had a game that would make the neutrals salivate and the partisans reach for their heart medication.

Enter Coach Sowa, a tactical savant with the keen eye of a chess grandmaster. In a move that would make Machiavelli nod in approval, he unleashed his cavalry – David, Wilson, and Spath – onto the battlefield. Kishore, who had been taking more hits than a punching bag in a heavyweight’s gym, gave way to Walsh. Walther, lungs heaving like bellows, made way for Carroll’s fresh pins.

The impact was immediate and devastating. DeLisa and Karris, with legs pumping like pistons and sidesteps that would shame a salsa dancer, carved through Lake County’s defence to dot down twice more.

Yet rugby, that fickle mistress, wasn’t done with her drama. Sisti, Park’s flanker extraordinaire, crumpled with a rolled ankle, his cries of anguish drowned out by the collective gasp of the home support. In a move that smacked of desperation (or genius, depending on your barstool of choice), the Georgian Suladze – a forward/back hybrid that would have taxonomists scratching their heads – was thrust into the fray, and the Caucasian conundrum punched through for a score that sealed the deal.

In the end, Lincoln Park emerged victorious from a match that had more twists than a pretzel factory. It was a game that reminded us why we love this sport – for its unpredictability, its brutality, and its moments of sublime skill. As the fans filed out, no doubt heading to the nearest pub to dissect every pass and tackle, one thing was clear: rugby was the true winner today.

Team: Primdahl, Lyons T, Harrison, Smith, Lyons Z, Church, Sisti, Swancy, Kishore, Rosenfeld, DeLisa, LaFlore, Clarke, Walther, Karris

Finishers: Dorn, Wilson, David, Barrett, Spath, Walsh, Suladze, Carroll

Try: Walther 1, LaFlore 1, Clarke 1, Karris 2, DeLisa 1, Suladze 1
Con: Clarke 4, Walsh 1

LPRFC D2 21 CRC Condors 29

LPRFC D2 21 CRC Condors 29

In the sweltering cauldron of a late summer’s day, with the mercury stubbornly clinging to the 90-degree mark, Lincoln Park and the CRC Condors served up a rugby feast that was as hot as the weather. This was a match that ebbed and flowed like a tempestuous tide, with both sides trading blows in a contest that kept spectators on the edge of their seats until the final whistle.

Park burst out of the blocks with the ferocity of a caged lion, capitalising on a Peri fumble from the kick-off. It took just 90 seconds for Husselbee to carve through the Condors’ defence like a hot knife through butter, setting the tone for what was to be a pulsating encounter.

The Park faithful were soon on their feet again as the irrepressible Rivera, a man seemingly with a magnetic attraction to the try line, crashed over for his fourth score in as many games. One wonders if there’s a more in-form finisher in the league at present.

In the tight, Melody’s return to the starting XV proved a masterstroke. His scrum presence was formidable, but it was in the loose where he truly shone, embarking on barnstorming runs that required a small army of Condors to bring him down. Yet, for all their muscle up front, Park’s Achilles heel proved to be the lineout. While not completely catastrophic, it was a constant source of disruption, with the Condors proving to be particularly adept aerial predators.

As the game wore on, it was Cooley who emerged as the fulcrum of Park’s attack. His powerful surge at the start of the second half was a thing of beauty, scything through the Condors’ defence before finding the ever-present Leyman, who in turn fed the charging Thomas. It was rugby straight from the textbook, executed with clinical precision.

In the trenches, Davey was omnipresent, a human vacuum cleaner who seemed to materialise wherever there was loose ball, consistently pushing Park over the gain line. But perhaps the unsung hero of the day was Polansky, who put on a tackling masterclass. His ability to bring down the Condors’ MLR fullback in one-on-one situations was nothing short of remarkable, a testament to his technique and tenacity.

As the clock ticked down, with Park holding a slender lead, the match hung in the balance. It was then that their lineout frailties came back to haunt them, a sloppy set-piece gifting the Condors a crucial opportunity with just 15 minutes left on the clock.

Yet, in those final, frenetic minutes, we witnessed the true mettle of this Park side. Twice they held up Condor mauls on the goal line, defending their try line with the desperation of men fighting for their lives. It was heroic stuff, the kind of defensive stand that can define a season.

The match ended on a sour note, with a scuffle resulting in red cards for both sides. It was an unfortunate blemish on what had been a thrilling contest, a reminder that even in the heat of battle, cool heads must prevail.

In the end, this was a match that had everything – skill, passion, drama, and no small amount of controversy. While Park will rue their lineout woes, they can take heart from their resilience in the face of intense pressure. As for the Condors, they proved themselves worthy adversaries, pushing Park to the very limit.

As the dust settles on this epic encounter, one thing is clear: if this is a taste of what’s to come this season, rugby fans are in for a treat. The question now is, can Park build on this performance and iron out their set-piece issues? Only time will tell, but one thing’s for certain – they won’t have many tougher tests than this one.

Team: Melody, Rivera, Leyman, Driscoll, Mulkerin, Davey, Debacker, Jahner, Aiello, Carso, Polanksy, Cooley, Husselbee, Thomas, Finnegan

Finishers: Panzica, Cullen, Modev, Anderson, Fehr, Nolan, Daley, Wafer

Try: Husselbee 1, Rivera 1, Thomas 1
Con: Jahner 3

LPRFC D4 59 Kenosha 7

LPRFC D4 59 Kenosha 7

In the grand theatre of Midwestern rugby, Lincoln Park D4 orchestrated a symphony of destruction, leaving Kenosha battered and bewildered in a 59-7 thrashing that will echo through the annals of the league for seasons to come.

At the heart of this ruthless display was the mercurial McCann, pulling the strings at fly-half with the grace of a virtuoso and the cunning of a card sharp. Spurred on by his own personal chorus line on the sidelines, McCann carved through Kenosha’s defence like a hot knife through butter, notching up a quartet of tries that left the opposition questioning their life choices.

But this was no one-man show. In the engine room, Swancy proved to be a second-row colossus, combining the light fingers of a master thief with the raw power of a charging rhino. His performance was a masterclass in the dark arts of forward play, leaving Kenosha’s pack looking like lost sheep in a wolf’s den.

The front row, often the unsung heroes of any rugby match, today sang louder than a Welsh male voice choir. Robb and Lyons slotted in with the seamless precision of a Swiss watch, while David – oh, David! – redefined the role of the modern prop. Watching him gallop across the turf before contact was like witnessing a wildebeest migration in miniature. One can only imagine the nightmares that will haunt Kenosha’s tacklers in the weeks to come.

And let us not forget the boot of Clarke, as reliable as death and taxes. His conversion rate of 7 from 9 ensured that each try was given its full due, turning what could have been merely a victory into an absolute rout.

As for Kenosha, they found themselves mere spectators to their own demise. Their defensive line, sliding to cover the outside channels with all the effectiveness of a chocolate teapot, left gaps that McCann exploited with gleeful abandon. Their solitary try stands as a lone candle in the face of a hurricane – admirable in its defiance, but ultimately futile.

In the end, this was more than a match; it was a statement. Lincoln Park D4 have thrown down the gauntlet, and as they bask in the afterglow of their second emphatic victory of the season, one can’t help but wonder: is this the birth of a dynasty, or merely a fleeting moment of brilliance? Only time will tell, but one thing is certain – rugby in these parts will never be the same again.

Team: Robb, Lyons T, David, Foley, Swancy, Church, Sisti, Olander, Walsh E, McCann, DeLisa, Daley, Clarke, Walther, Rosenfeld

Finishers: Rowley, Carter, Patat, Brach, McDonough, Callovini, Niewinski, Clark

Try: McCann 4, Swancy 3, Daley 1, Walsh 1
Con: Clarke 7