Oh how I’ve come to love rugby. Having spent ten years in the Welsh Valleys I had become a passionate follower of Wales, particularly in the 6 Nations. Having worked in a Cardiff casino for ages, during the period when the Millennium Stadium was brand new and then Wembley was being refurbished, I spent many a happy Saturday afternoon with some of the other 50,000 odd fans in the city that didn’t get a ticket.

Rugby in Wales is infectious. More belief and passion than any English football or rugby fan could show. I remember the classic Welsh win over England at Wembley, Neil Jenkins’ genius kicking. We hosted the World Cup in ’99 and I remember the Japanese team coming in for a punt, thinking how much smaller they were than the Welsh scrum. Then the last big day I remember before moving to Cornwall, another Wales win over England in Cardiff. Saw that in a social club in Canton of all places, but the atmosphere was electric.

Great fun and I was happy to move to a place with a brilliant local team (the Cornish All Blacks) and spend the odd Saturday shouting abuse at various referees and opposing players. England is definitely my team but I’m sorry to admit that I love a Welsh win over them, if only for the memories of piling onto St Mary’s Street after one too many SAs and singing random Max Boyce songs.

Fab win boys, congrats to Sam on taking the Triple Crown back to the Valleys. Roll on the Grand Slam!

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