The Roar Northern Hemisphere sub-branch took an excursion to Cardiff on Saturday for the last weekend of the Autumn Internationals. There was the expected fight both with weekend London traffic and the inevitable after effects of all those pesky preservatives in the continental lager.
The latter plays havoc with my morning meditation routine.
Friday afternoon had been blighted by an old school rugby lunch near Tower Bridge where cable commentary star Mr. S Barnes wowed the audience with his nuanced insight into the modern game.
Chatham House rules restrict me from sharing with you the exact content but I will say this, I doubt Sky Sports will receive too many Christmas Cards from the Welsh and English current head honchos.
I digress. The wagon was packed, to be accompanied by a Welsh lass and Kiwi bird, all for good balance. Although the joke could have read: “A management consultant, an investment banker and a lawyer all went to Cardiff for the weekend… “
The pre-match pint and the walk through Sofia Gardens followed the England South Africa match. During which it was made very clear that the Welsh rugby community prefer anyone but England. I had no appreciation a mode of Roman transportation could in fact be parked in such a manner.
On the flip side most of my more discerning South African friends were secretly hoping for a Twickenham loss so the “Div”, as he is affectionately called in the salons of Joh’Burg, could be jettisoned before the 2011 RWC.
Sadly Johnno’s Army is just not as good as Stephen Jones (the Murdoch correspondent and current Maori cultural ambassador) reckons, or that a very limp Australian XV would make them appear two weeks back.
The Bokke was in an irrepressible mood as Victor, Bakkies and Bismarck took their fill of the soft white underbelly of the home side.
The Millennium Stadium was full to the rafters for kick off. As the Blackness descended not even the most optimistic of Welsh rugby lovers could have predicted that ten minutes into the second half the men in red would be one point down and the All Blacks one man down.
Could it be the first upset since the 50s?
That New Zealand touring side from 1953 incidentally captained by the Kiwi bird’s uncle, so there was something personal in this one. Bread of Heaven echoed through the stadium as the locals dared to dream. Immediately following the rousing chorus Lee Byrne missed touch from a penalty and the dragon was far from ‘still my strength and shield’.
Two men stepped up to put the rugby world back on its axis. Jerome “Leg drive in contact” Kaino had an immense second half, as did Conrad “The Snake” Smith. 13 has been a troubled position for the Blackness for some years. Look at the team sheets for each one of those fabled world cup losses and you’ll see a square peg (usually a fullback) jammed into the specialist role of outside centre.
Perhaps Smith needs adding to the NZRFU key man risk policy.
Two scintillating All Blacks tries later and a clattering cheap shot from Andy “the golf cart” Powell on Tackles Macaw’s nose settled the final result, which perhaps did not reflect how close the Welsh had come.
The Welsh are truly great losers and the zoo that is Cardiff nightlife was in rare form. Ex Pats from the Chez Bu Walky in their Black garb patronized the cavernous sister venue in great numbers.
The Welsh girls did not disappoint in their efforts to contract pneumonia and give Top Shop marketing reps encouragement that what one would think is simply sleepwear, does in fact double as perfectly acceptable evening wear.
For the fellas, or valley commandos as they are known in these parts, the sheer toxic volume of hair product and fake tan was truly worrisome to any self respecting animal rights activists.
In short the ‘Gavin Henson’ effect should not be taken lightly – the man may be the object of derision east of the Severn Bridge but on the banks of the Taff the man’s ‘style’ is obviously more popular than the Beatles.
The surreal nature of the evening was punctuated by the vision of the Wallaby backs running in 46 points during the second half at St Denis.
Surely this could not be true after conceding another penalty try for repeated scrum misdemeanours. As it turned out Rocky and co decided to get medieval with the French at the contact point and Quade “the gun slinger with the hands of an angel” Cooper, simply went to town.
Early to bed with a hot milo, followed by a Sunday morning perambulation in the woods outside Cardiff to clear the head, bury the bodies and before you can say “full English breakfast please, hold the black pudding” we were zipping along the M4 back to a tube strike and puffs of snow.
Next week, Sale versus Leeds oop North. Promises to be a humdinger.
Join The Roar rugby editor Christy Doran, former Wallaby Matt Toomua and a cast of regular and special guests as they look at the biggest issues in the game on The Roar Rugby Podcast. If you’re looking for great odds on the next game check out Aussie bookmaker PlayUp. Chances are you’re about to lose. Set a deposit limit.
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