French Polished Off

Those of you who have read previous posts, will know that I am not too enamoured about the 8pm Friday kick off for the Wales v France game. We decided to go down to Cardiff on the train quite early and have a “high tea” before the match. This was a great idea and a drop of red wine with “le lunch” put me in the right mood for “le crunch”. When we got into the ground there was time for a pint before we took our seats. We were treated to some excellent Welsh choral singing on the concourse but all the talk was about the late withdrawal of Alun Wyn Jones. After the Irish game, we were not exactly confident of victory and this gave us another reason to worry.

My first thought when we made our way to our seats was that we had somehow taken a wrong turn and ended up in a night club. There was subdued lighting and loud music. As my eyes got used to the semi-darkness I realised that what had looked like a dance floor was actually the pitch. Even more gimmicks than normal - if someone from the RSPCA was there I’m sure that they would have reported the WRU for cruelty to the goat. At least we didn’t have to rap the national anthem.

As it turned out, “le crunch” didn’t live up to expectations as, rather like Wales in Dublin, the French didn’t really turn up. They were “le bunch sans le punch”. Wales, for their part, played with plenty of aggression and passion and ran out comfortable winners. The forwards in particular were unrecognisable compared to their low-key effort in Dublin. We left the stadium with a warm glow.

All we had to do now was to get back to Newport and I had “le hunch” that this was going to be frustrating. We took our place in the ever-increasing queue for the train and waited ….and waited….and waited. In the end we waited for over 45 minutes to get on the first train back to Newport. It was a good job we had won and that, for once, it wasn’t raining. It seems strange that there wasn’t a train waiting at the platform ready to whisk people away as soon as it was full. After all it is pretty easy to predict when the match will finish with a good degree of accuracy. It was a bit like that feeling when you come back from your holiday and have to wait an hour to reclaim your baggage at the airport - it takes away a bit of the feel-good factor.

Saturday was a TV rugby day and the matches were a lot closer. I enjoyed the Italy v Scotland game which, despite being littered with mistakes, was close and exciting with the Scots just about deserving to win. That match served as a light starter before the heavyweight main course. The England v Ireland game was a fierce encounter up a few levels from anything in the Six Nations so far. England just shaded it but a draw might have been a fairer reflection of the way that the game went. It was thunderous stuff. It’s a shame from Wales’ perspective that we are not playing England next weekend as a game like that will take a considerable recovery period. England look mighty impressive and Wales will have to go up another level in intensity if we are going to run them close. England will certainly be ready to counter “Gatland ball” and will be hell-bent on exacting revenge for last season. I’m hoping against hope that my English friend doesn’t come up with a ticket for me and make me sit next to him as I fear the worst.

Whilst I was languishing on the couch, Pooler were playing a friendly against Aberavon. By all accounts the Premiership side were just a little too strong for us and we lost 0-17. This is certainly a lot better than the earlier encounter and will serve as good preparation for the rather daunting visit to runaway league leaders Ebbw Vale next week.    

Six Nations Theme Tunes

Another rugby-less weekend and I was left licking my wounds after the Dublin disaster. I reflected on my previous post - Cock-ups and Muscles and tried to come up with a list of songs that summed up the Six Nations so far. It’s a bit sad but here goes:

Scotland:        No Power of Scotland                           or (You Aint Seen Nothing Yet)

Italy:               Scrumtimes When We Touch                or (Parisse in the Springtime)

England:         We Will Ruck You                                or (Lost in France)

France:           Could it be Magic?                               or (It Can Only Get Better)

Ireland:           Fire and Brain                                      or (Oh Jonny Boy)

Wales:             Where Did Our Shove Go?                   or (Relight My Fire)

I’m sure that you could do a lot better but it’s a start!

Next stop the Millennium Stadium next Friday night. With any luck I should get home in time for breakfast. Why oh why do we have to play on a Friday night? I’d be interested to know if any spectator is actually happy with it.

Cock-ups and Muscles

Just got back from Dublin’s fair city where Wales provided the cock-ups and Ireland supplied the muscles.  It was hard to call it a match as the sides were a long way far from being evenly matched. Before the match, we assembled in various bars arguing with the Irish about why our side was going to lose. At least we won that argument! There seems to be something in both the Irish and Welsh psyches that hates the tag of favourites. Still rugby fans prefer to talk than scrap unlike our round ball counterparts.

We decided to walk to the ground from a bar in Lower Baggot Street (after some light refreshment) since there was a break in the rain. “Sure it will only take 25 minutes,” we were told. Well after 25 minutes we had reached the ground but we then had to follow ‘the red route’ that started by taking us further away from the ground before circling around behind it as if were trying to creep up on it. 8 flights of stairs later we had reached a concourse feeling slightly out of breath. From there we found our staircase and then we were faced with what looked like the North face of the Eiger. We were in row NN and we were starting at row F. I was puffing like Ivor the Engine and wishing that I had not drunk quite so much Guinness by the time I reached my seat. It had taken almost an hour to get there and no sooner had I sat down to catch my breath than the anthems started. My contribution to the Welsh cause was somewhat truncated by my lack of breath so it could easily be down to me that we lost.

In all honesty I didn’t really enjoy the game. It was plain from quite an early stage that Ireland were going to do a Munster on Wales and totally stifle any plans that we might have had. Sexton played the O’Gara role to perfection and a series of well directed kicks and flawless goal kicking piled on the pressure. The Irish forwards were well in charge particularly at the breakdown. Their driving maul from the lineout was almost unstoppable. We didn’t have any answers. We just had to sit and take our punishment, even cursing Barnes, the referee, didn’t make us feel any better.

The post mortem clasping a remedial pint of Guinness was conducted accompanied by England crushing Scotland on a big screen and was a desultory affair.  

So what went wrong? As a team we seem to lack hwyl which was a theme of the previous weekend too. The players do not seem to be enjoying playing this season and you wonder whether all that wrangling in Welsh rugby is having an effect on morale no matter how much the team management want to deny it. The other thing that is happening is that the regional combinations, that were a feature of the successful Welsh teams, are gradually disappearing as players move outside Wales. This time last year Sam Warburton was relieved of the captaincy to allow him to concentrate on his own game. Now he looks like he needs more rugby but of course he hasn’t got a team to play for at the moment. I certainly wouldn’t single him out as the cause for Saturday’s debacle. Nobody really came out of the game with an enhanced reputation and if you were picking a Lions squad on the basis of the first couple of weekends there wouldn’t be too many Scots and Welshmen on the teamsheet.

I suppose it would be easy to go overboard about this defeat and we should remember that the first half wasn’t quite as bad as the first half against Ireland last season and we went on to be champions. I fear that that may be beyond us this season but we could still win at least 2 of our remaining fixtures if we could rediscover our zest. It’s time for our senior players to come to the fore and lead us out our depression.

As always in Dublin, we had a great weekend with plenty of fun and the Irish were as hospitable as ever - apart from 2 hours on Saturday afternoon. It puts me in mind of the quote from 19th century America: “…..well apart from that, how did you enjoy the play Mrs. Lincoln?”

Wales Pasta Test

I was fortunate enough to be invited to the Captain’s Run for the Welsh team at the Millennium Stadium on the Friday before the Italy match. This was a new experience for me and we watched the players go through their pre-match routines from close quarters. The thing that was striking was just how serious the players and coaches were. There were not many smiles or laughs as the team completed their work and somehow you did not sense any buzz of excitement. The players then mixed with the fans for autographs and pictures and they were patient and obliging with nothing too much trouble. These guys take all their responsibilities seriously.

On the Saturday I went to the match and I guess that the feeling that I had got the day before was carried over. The players didn’t really have a buzz and were there to do a job. This was somehow quickly picked up by the crowd and created a somewhat flat atmosphere. From the moment Cuthbert scored the opening try, you never felt that Wales were going to lose despite the best efforts of the Italians who managed to close the gap to 5 points at one stage in the second half. The Italian defence was strong and well organised and Wales were a little careless at times in attack so they only managed one more try when Roberts broke a tackle to put Williams in. I hope that they were holding back some of their strike moves for later in the campaign because the Italians seemed to have little problem in stifling an unimaginative series of attacks from Wales. Still it’s a win and so on to a far more demanding encounter in Dublin next weekend.

The Irish took a while to get going against the Scots before running out comfortable winners. They don’t really seem to have too many weaknesses and look particularly strong at set piece and breakdown where we struggled a bit against the Italians. A win there is going to require a monumental effort from Wales and I would think that the Irish start as favourites. I am heartily fed up with the resurrection of O’Driscoll-gate and the way the BBC Wales talk about “the media” stoking it up as if they are not part of the media themselves. I sincerely hope that when I take my seat in the Aviva Stadium next Saturday I am not sitting next to O’Driscoll’s fourth cousin three times removed.

So to England and the best moment of the weekend. It was with great glee that I watched the French score the winning try late in the game to take the wheels off the chariot. Truly a champagne moment. For most of the middle part of the game the English were on top and I was dreading reading the Sunday papers. We can all breathe a sigh of relief - England can’t win the grand slam. The guys working in the MBE factory can take it easy! Nevertheless, I think they showed enough to make them favourites for the title as they play Ireland and Wales at home.

I watched the first instalment of inside Welsh Club Rugby and was impressed. Follow this link: https://www.youtube.com/user/IWRTV The challenge will be to keep it going and keep it fresh but it’s an excellent start. I don’t want to think about the regional mess anymore but another deadline seems to have passed.

I’m looking forward to the Irish trip. I wonder how much a pint of Guinness is these days.