On 15 May 2004 the Hands attended the Brussels 10s, hosted by the Brussels Barbarians. They came away with some creaks, some bruises, and a gold statue of a urinating child.

WHRFC boarded the Eurostar on Friday night, much to the disappointment of their fellow travellers who had been hoping to make a journey without an over-excited rugby team trying on their new kit and poking fun at each other's foibles. The Hands arrived in Brussels late at night, so there was no time to drink a few beers and visit a lap dancing club.

The next morning, after a pleasant taxi journey ride through the Brussels suburbs (interesting taxi-driver's fact - there was no planning law in Brussels between the end of WW2 and 1958), the Hands arrived at the Brussels Barbarians' ground and were greeted with jeers of derision at their sparkly new skin-tight kit. The organisers had mistranslated the name "Wandering Hands" as "Beer Swilling Team of Cretins" and had seeded the Hands last in Group B. On our arrival, bemused comments such as "where are your fat bits?" were common. Before too long these comments were replaced by "You wankers are taking this way too seriously."

In the first game of their campaign, the Hands came up against a Civil Service team that might have been more of a handful had it not apparently been on the piss for 24 hours solid. The Hands started as they meant to continue, and although three tries were scored in each half, it was the Hands' defence that really stood out. The Civil Service's petulant stamping and punching could not prevent them going down 38-5. Matt Morgan missed two conversions from under the posts.

The next game was against Hamburg. Although the Hands could not seem to stick to their game-plan they put some good rugby together, and came away as 33-5 winners. The tight shirts were really proving their worth - no-one could get a handful of the Hands, as it were, and men started to go through tackles like pigs going through bones...like butter...or something. From the sidelines, Jack Whibley began to garner support from among the 8 ladies' sides, and the Hands soon gained a high-pitched fan club.

After a two hour break, the Hands faced the hosts, the self-proclaimed favourites. The Brussels Barbarians were far from the soft side that the 27-5 score-line may suggest. After a five minute lull at the start of the game, the Hands moved up several gears and started to score some excellent tries (in the face of some highly dubious home-refeeing). This was the high-water mark of the Hands' performance of the day, and every man on the field was very near the top of his game. The Hands showed that their cunty streak had never gone away, with Dom Turner slotting a drop goal from the 22. WHRFC topped its group with 9 point, and was through to the semi-final

The next game was against hte best runner up...Brussels Barbarians. The hosts were keen for a second crack at the Hands, and rather than keeping Bar-bars on the back foot, the Hands let them in for a 7 point lead early in the match. Fingernails were bitten on the the sidelines, but the Hands' play remained self assured, and they scored a converted try at the start of the second half. The rest of the game saw the Hands camped on the Bar-bars' 22. To the fury of the home fans, Dom Turner slotted another drop goal from a penalty to take the Hands 10-7 clear and avoid extra time. WHRFC were in the final.

The Hands did not win the final, although they made a very good fist of it. Tjetjians Experiment came out 33-19 winners, beating a Hands side that didn't have quite enough left in the tank. TE's strong running and tight game was not as attractive as the expansive rugby the the Hands had played all day, but it was more effective in the final. Surely the highlight of the final though was a beatiful flowing try, which was started behind the Hands' own line by Kai Blankley, who found Matt Morgan on the 22. Morgan decided to go the whole way himself in a Haworth-esque fit of selfishness, but Pete Curry in support, was able to retrieve the situation when Morgan was hauled down 5 yards short, and he finished the try with panache.

The Hands had acquittred themselves well, but were just found wanting at the end. Nonetheless, Kai Blankley's genius was spotted (not for the only time that day) by the tournament organisers, who made him their player of the tournament, and a worthy one at that. Kai received another golden statuette of a urinating child, and fell over on his way to receive it to the delight of all present.

A frenzied night out followed. As Gosciny says at the end of many Asterix books "let us draw a veil over the festivities that ensue". It was all fairly standard, and a magnificent time was had by all. The troops rolled in at around 5 in the morning, slightly tired and emotional. A hungover day was then spent admiring Brussels' sights (including a small urinating child), eating mussels and chips, and writing a rude postcard to a man who didn't deserve a postcard at all.

As Jonny Lee Miller says in Plunkett and Maclean "I was marvellous, and it was a bloody good laugh." The Brussels 10s is a great tournament, and the Hands aim to return and make their mark again next year.