“They don't come more Hollywood than this 4th and goal with the clock nudging zero and the length of the field to travel. After a match of puzzling simplicity in which the team's defence completely failed to fire, conceding 3 soft run ins to Gutter Runners only too happy to take advantage, it was in the Woody's hands seemingly. A costly and uncharacteristic spill by That Bloke From The Hobbit gifted up the ball however, and the rats moved it ably downfield once more with a Gutter squares away from the win. Finally the thought of losing a match that had seemed a guaranteed win galvanised the team. T8 Woody magic ensued. Impossible to beat for pure drama and an end to end denouement that couldn't be bettered if it had been written...”