A master tactician in the scrummage and lineout, Wotsit was so christened following an act involving a family size bag of the said snack food on a coach journey following an away match. Whether the act was sexual in nature remains the subject of much debate, although I can tell you it was. I was there. I saw it. It wasn't nice.  An impressive leader of men, when things were going badly his half-time bollockings were the sort of  treat that his fellow forwards relished in the same way that one might relish castration, or contracting AIDS or radiation sickness.

Every club needs a chippy Northerner entertaining the troops with their light-hearted banter born out of the poverty and deprivation of the slums of ‘the north’. Unfortunately Laney is more of the whinging variety with not just a chip, but gravy, curry sauce and mushy peas on his shoulder. Despite masquerading as a scrum-half, Laney’s more effective using his girth to shatter defences before off-loading the ball and sparking up a gasper. If you can get him to stop complaining for five minutes, he is in fact a top player and an excellent man to have on tour, or so he claims.