Bulls' win may herald sevens expansion era

The steaming dark piles that Bradford Bulls had left lying dotted about on the Twickenham turf (which later turned out to be beaten finalists Wasps) were given a more authentic whiff when Charles Hogbin, the chairman of the Middlesex Charity Sevens, made an ambitious statement which will sound a lot like bull manure to many in the game.

After announcing that the best part of 26,000 people – more than had watched the international "star-studded" jamboree at the same venue in May – had watched the 77th Middlesex sevens, Hogbin suggested that such interest in the abbreviated form of the game could be the start of something much bigger.

"We could be seeing the beginnings of a professional sevens circus," said the ebullient chairman. He felt there were enough sevens specialists to provide the personnel and foresaw a possible merger of local tournaments such as this one with the international circuit so recently harnessed by the International Board. They might need a few more stars from the Premiership for that to happen, though.

But Robbie Paul, the victorious captain, would play more sevens. The Bulls would love to defend their crown next year and their determination to take part this year cannot be doubted.

After suffering the ignominy of their first defeat in heaven knows how long in rugby league's Super League at the hands of their rivals St Helens the night before, Paul and Co hung around Odsal Stadium waiting for their coach to take them south and to Union's HQ.

Unfortunately, the coach had broken down. But rather than disappoint families, friends and fans they opted to wait for a replacement coach which eventually arrived at 1.30am.

"I got into bed at around five o'clock," said Paul. "It was not the greatest preparation. In fact, everything seemed to be stacked against us. But once we got the first game out of the way, when our defence was shocking, we relaxed."

They certainly kept their heads throughout the tournament, so much so that by the time they had disposed of Leeds, Gloucester (featuring Henry Paul, Robbie's brother) and a British Army squad comprising Fijian sevens specialists, they were well primed for whatever Wasps had to throw at them, which turned out to be little.

That explains why, after being thrashed, the exhausted London outfit dropped to their knees on the hottest day of the year so far and thus resembled the afore-mentioned steaming dark piles littering Twickenham's turf.