So, we did it.

The match and the result were a lot closer than many had predicted, but Wales ultimately deserved victory over England in the 6N on Saturday.

My pre-match anxiety kept building up to kick-off.

I had never shared the confidence of some of my fellow fans, or media pundits who were predicting a 20 or 30-point winning margin.

All week I had felt this match was too difficult to predict. Wales looked favourites, but equally England looked capable of causing an upset.

The only really predictable elements of this match was that I would be perched on the edge of my seat from kick-off to final whistle and that by the time the game was over I would sound like I had been gargling gravel all day.

I’m feeling a little hoarse today.


I shout during rugby matches. A lot.

Truth is my voice is usually creaking and croaking by half-time, so by full-time it is well and truly wrecked.

In such a close and absorbing contest as last Saturday’s, my vocal chords were stretched from the opening few minutes.

I had planned to be more measured in my support, less shouty and more considered. But it never happened.

From the English infringement that gave us our first three points to the moment Mike Phillips wasted an overlap and England went on to score their first try, I wasn’t exactly watching in silence.

On that last point, why is that the players don’t listen?

From my vantage point high up close to the back of the top tier of the Millennium Stadium the 3-2 overlap down the English right flank was obvious.

So why did Phillips chose a lame kick?

Which part of: “Give it Mike, simple pass” didn’t the Welsh No.9 understand as I bellowed instructions from the stand?

Still, never mind. We won and I’ll keep shouting my instructions to Mike, Stephen, Martyn, Jamie, Leigh et al as I know that subliminally at least they must be listening to me. Mustn’t they?

That’s why I’ll happily sacrifice my vocal chords for another Welsh win against France in a fortnight.

But as I’ll be watching this game at home on TV, maybe I should warn the neighbours first?

I’ll be shouting very loud to make sure the players hear me in Paris.


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