Ah the weekend fast approaches with what can only be termed as the most important sporting occasion in the world, nah not the world for that matter, the whole bleedin’ universe; oh for indeed it is that time of year alright. The time for nerves to jangle, ale to be quaffed and ‘Hymns and Arias’ to be belted out at the top of every red blooded welsh man’s voice. The time when the gods cease their petty meddling, when for eighty whole minutes the world stops its revolutions (why else do we have a leap year? That’s right, to make up for injury time), when the wolf lies down with the lamb mesmerized by the drama unfolding before them. When for eighty whole minutes the whole world can go to hell because for those precious eighty minutes there is absolutely, unequivocally nothing more important, not even cider!
Dare we ask? I hear you murmur under your hushed and baited breath. Dare you indeed for on this Saturday on the 17th hour of the 6th day of the month of February in the year of our lord 2010 there will be an unearthly silence and then a roar, louder then that of any of the ancient armies of old, shall shatter the still air as Wales take on England in their opening game of the most prestigious sporting tournament to ever take place, anywhere, yes my friends it is the time of the six nations rugby union competition, where grown men, myself included, shall be openly weeping with either tears of unbridled joy or tears of unbearable dismay. And this match, our first of the campaign, is by far the most important. Nay, not because it is the first match, nor that it may decide the whole tenor of the competition for us, no and thrice no, it is simply because it is against
. Be stout my gallant friends, hold fast and give no quarter for none shall be received, onwards to glory…… England
“And we were singing hymns and arias 'Land of my Fathers', 'Ar hyd y nos'”……