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Six Nations Madness: The SuperSaturday Drinking Game March 18, 2011

Filed under: Random,Six Nations,What The Shit Is This — Manpilez @ 1:32 pm
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So, you’ve followed our guides to the Six Nations, but if you, like us, are having a few friends and beers to see you through the epic slog that is Supersaturday you’re going to need something to keep the mind alert when Brian Moore is moaning on about scrums till everyone is blue in the face.

So here it is; the Supersaturday drinking game, designed to make you cease to care who walks away with the silverware and stop you waging a fatwa on John Inverdale… just.

Take a Sip if…

  • Eddie Butler overpronounces the name of a Frenchman
  • A member of a losing side says ‘they just wanted it more on the day’
  • A member of the Wales team kicks away a promising looking bit of possession
  • James Haskell mentions a brand name. Two if it’s not Land Rover.
  • Someone mentions the Law 19.2(d) incident
  • You hear the phrase ‘the boys dug deep’
  • You see Lewis Moody on the touchline
  • There is a useless singer leading the anthems.
  • A commentator has a girly moment over Sergio Parisse
  • For every position James Hook Plays
  • The Tindall v Banahan debate
  • Someone mentions the Millenium Stadium roof even though it’s got a week off
  • Someone uses the phrase ‘he/they went out there and did a job’
  • Someone uses the phrase ‘we just didn’t play enough rugby’
  • There is a discussion around ‘the kind of selection headache you’d like to have’

Take a Gulp…

  • For every five minutes spent by the BBC talking about England before the France v Wales and Scotland v Italy games
  • For every one minute spent by the BBC talking about any of the other five teams before the Ireland v England game.
  • Mirco Flamingolegs Bergamasco
  • Commentator mistakes Chris Ashton for Dylan Hartley
  • You see Lewis Moody on the pitch
  • Someone brings up 2003

Down your drink if…

  • Eddie Butler chokes on his own mouth trying to overpronounce the name of a Frenchman
  • You see an Ash Splash
  • FIGHT!
  • Someone comes off through injury – mark of respect, innit!
  • Tommy Bowe starts singing
  • Richey Grey has a dicky Tummy from eating too many happy faces

Drink everything in sight if…

  • An Irish person acknowledges that Wales should have won anyway.
  • Italy beat Scotland

Stop drinking if…

  • Warren Gatland or Marc Lievremont say something you agree with – you’ve had too many.
  • You think Tommy Bowe’s singing’s aright

Six Nations Countdown Part 2: Watching the Six Nations the Manpilez Way… February 1, 2011

Filed under: England,France,Ireland,Italy,Random,Scotland,Six Nations,Wales — Manpilez @ 12:35 am
Tags: ,

The Six nations is one of those rare times in rugby when it’s actually better to watch it on the telly, purely so you don’t miss  anything that happens elsewhere. So pull up a sofa cushion and sit back for your guide to enjoying every bit of Six Nations Action.

What is a Saturday afternoon of top flight rugby without refreshments? Of course, you could go with the standard beer and crisps option, but that’s for dilettantes. Team with the theme and add an extra level of spice to proceedings, go on! Below are a snack and beverage from each nation perfect for fuelling your cheering muscles.

Treat this as your shopping list or be parched, hungry and unpatriotic.


Welsh Cakes (picau ar maen): This delightful little delicacy is like a spicey, flat and if cooked right, slightly gooey scone. You can buy them from most branches of Marks and Spencer or you can make them yourself quite easily. Our favourite recipe is by Her majesty Cerys Matthews.

Brains. No, we’re not zombies, we just love Cardiff’s favourite brew. There are many types of Brains brew, from the light and refreshing SA Gold to the thick and stouty Brains Dark but for this time of year there must only be one: the  Six Nations special brew, Bread Of Heaven. Avaliable all over Wales and some branches of Morrison’s if you’re at the wrong end of the M4.


Victoria Sponge. There’s little more English than a good afternoon tea, and this is the archetypal afternoon tea treat. You could make like a WI member and get competitive with your friends about the lightness, crumb and moistness of your sponge, or you can be lazy and go down the shops, either way, it must be jam, buttercream and a light dusting of icing.

Gin. Mix it with tonic, ginger ale or some traditional lemonade to cleanse your palate before the boys eat their opponents alive. It may seem gentle but it is fierce!


Macarons. This is an especially good one for when Les Bleus play against England as you can keep the afternoon theme running with these almondy delicacies. In truth, these are a bugger to make, so you’re best buying them from your local patisserie (Paul and Maison Blanc are particularly good). If you really want to open a can of baking genius, however, Last Year’s Great British Bakeoff Runner Up Ruth Clemens, aka The Pink Whisk has a fantastic guide on how to make the shells which you can fill with whatever takes your fancy. Or if you haven’t got a sweet tooth, baguette, garlic butter, oven, bosh.

Sauvignon Blanc.  I was nearly going to go for a nice red here but Sauvignon Blanc is the king of the grapes at Manpilez HQ.


Chips. The scots are renowned for deep frying anything vaguely edible so why not go back to basics, get a nice bag of chips to soak up all the alcohol from the other nations.

Irn Bru. We could have gone with a nice single malt here but to us nothing quite says Scotland than the cloyingly sweet, indescribable and yet infinitely tempting smell of Irn Bru. Other countries have whiskeys, nobody else has the gall to make something ‘from girders’ and claim it drinkable.


Pizza. Let’s be honest, we’ve all dialled a dominoes on a supersaturday when we can’t bear to move from the action long enough to make anything edible, so let’s make it official. For authenticity go for thin crust with some olives or parma ham.

Prosecco. Whoever wins, you need bubbles and prosecco is, in our opinion, far more of a treat than champagne.  Yum.



Potato Cakes. Yes, we know, it’s a bit of a cliché choosing a potato based snack for Ireland but they’re just so nice. Toasted with butter they’ll be the perfect comfort food if your team is doing badly in or against the emerald shirts.

Baileys. Because we’re girls, Guinness is manky and frankly, if you’ve followed all of these recommendations, by the time you get to this point you’ll need to dilute it in an Irish coffee before the world starts spinning.

Stay tuned tomorrow when we’ll be limbering up our voices. No, stay, we can carry a tune, honest….!

Words by Lauren


The Manpilez Lexicon August 30, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Manpilez @ 9:13 pm

If it sometimes seems as though we’re speaking a different language, it’s probably because we are. The rest of the time, it’s just our own special brand of madness…

Note: this page will be updated regularly with any new Pilezspeak so keep clicking!

Ellie’s own personal understanding of the face of Andy Powell.

Because one ludicrous jawline-related nickname wasn’t enough for Quagmire. I mean The Big Doc. I mean Doctor Jamie. No, really, I mean Jamie Roberts. The Nickname Magnet.

Big Man, The
Sergio Parrise isn’t the biggest man, but he is a big man. That’s all you need to know.

BOD Almighty
This doesn’t really need explaining. Especially if you’re Irish.

Clean off

An exclamation of Ospreylian origin, generally used with little discretion but with maximum intent.

Genuine Wales-speak. An affectionate hug.

Dieux du Stade, a rugby nudey calendar hiding behind a thin monochrome veil of high art. The brainchild of Uncle Gigi, Stade Francais’ finest and guests have been getting their kit off for a decade all in the name of effective time keeping. God bless you, boys.

Duck Wrangler, The
Of all the mental things Donncha O’Callaghan has ever done, luring a bevy of ducks into a hotel conference suite with a packet of Corn Flakes, merely for shits and giggles, is our favourite. Never stop being you, Donners.

Flautist, The

Riki Flutey. It’s best not to overthink them, sometimes.

Gigi (see also: Uncle Gigi)
Max Guazzini, teak entrepreneur and impressario. Max is the wonderful madman who is responsible for the outlandishly migraine-inducing kits, naked calendars, bizarre publicity stunts and balls-to-the-wall insanity that is Stade Francais. He is Anna’s personal hero.

Genuine fangirl-speak. An especially enthusiastic hug, usually pounce-based.
See fig. a

Pic from Huw Evans (
Hook’d Claw, The
A slightly mean nickname directed at the actually very lovable and downright awesome James Hook. For best effect, adopt a Penelope Pitstop voice.

Ianto (verb)

The act of sustaining a consecutive long-term injury. Said injury may or may not result in the growth of a mullet and production of low budget video interviews with team mates.

There has been much debate (between the four of us, that is) over the one true definition of a manpile. The term was originated by our own Kerrie, who broke down the ancient ritual of rugby thus: “Run, run, run, run, manpile!”. In it’s simplest form, therefore, a manpile is an adequate description of a ruck.

However, given the tendency for rugby boys to be a bit huggy in general, the term has evolved to encompass the kind of victorious group glomp illustrated in fig. b

Picture source unknown

A Pile of Manz

The manpile is an internationl phenomenon:
fig. c

Picture source unknown

Un pile des hommes

fig. d

Image source unknown

Un muccio delgi uomini

(Matt) O’Banahanahanahan
Never seen The Day Today? Shame on you.

A chain of Portugese chicken restaurants of South African origin which the average rugby player appears to think about/talk about/visit approximately seven million times a week. If Nando’s were to ever fall, rugby would surely follow.

Peddlar, The
Another cruel nickname, this came about when Lee Byrne started to encourage the people of South Wales to exchange their unwanted gold for cash money. We love you, Byrney.

Pie Man, The
In 2009, a false pastry idol modelled in the (alleged) likeness of legendary Welsh winger Shane Williams went on tour and caused Lauren to suffer a near-fatal fit of giggles. This article went to great pains to differentiate between Shane (pie) and Shane (man). Thus, a nickname was born.

At the time of writing, the pie was thought to have fired its band and abandoned a tour of North America in favour of a coke-fuelled bender in Paraguay with half a dozen former Whitesnake groupies. The man remains a tiny rugby genius.

An annoying Heat magazine-style portmanteau for Ryan Jones. Don’t look at me like that. We are girls, in case you’d forgotten.

Jones, that is. Come on, he’s a superhero and you know it. He also has a smile that could melt the hearts of a thousand misers and bastards.

Words by the team, explanations by Anna