"Clampdown on Rugby Revellers "
That was the headline in the Pocklington Post on Thursday.
It seems that every Good Friday Pocklington hosts a rugby sevens tournament of some repute.
From the paper:
"Thousands of revellers are expected to descend on the town for the competition, which has been an annual sporting fixture since 1959.
Traditionally, many people then head to the town centre pubs to celebrate and ... the heavy drinking after the tournament has led to disorder in the past.
Last year 14 arrests were made on the evening, all of them alcohol related. To help combat trouble, police from Pocklington will be out patrolling the town, along with additional help from other areas."
Well, after this we were expecting spectacular scenes of drinking, fighting, violence and near rioting. But, it seems the Pock Post has the same approach to headline making as the Telegraph does. Scare 'em first, tell the truth later (if at all).
A few revellers worse for wear heading home late on Friday night, but that was it.
Although there was a wonderful moment last night where both Louise and I turned down the TV / music and looked out the window. We had both been hearing a strangely familiar buzzing noise. Only when we went outside did we realise what it was. There, buzzing overhead, was the police helicopter. A nightly occurrence in Birmingham for us, but so bizarre and out of place in Pocklington. Normally the only things in the skies above our town are the gliders sailing gracefully overhead in the daytime from the local gliding club.
A strange night. I found myself humming white riot by the Clash all night.
The Rugby Sevens tournament was a great event though. We popped past to have a good look earlier in the day. It was absolutely full of rugby types, all having a great time.
And this weekend is giving us an idea of what our first summer tourist season in Pocklington will be like. The town is already fuller than I've ever seen it. At the moment that's not a bad thing and I'm enjoying the difference. Of course, by high summer, when I can't get round town for tourists, the roads are jammed with caravans and there's nowhere to park I might have changed my mind.