The excitement is electric; I have heard ‘Delilah’ at least 10 times on the radio this morning and it is only 10.a.m. as I write! Every time the word Wales is said, it is drawn out with two syllables on the A and a slight crescendo. The dragon drapes every third house in the valley and inflated daffodils abound. Sam Warburton has been on every news programme this week talking of his previous clashes with the French – on average he has lasted the first 20 minutes before going off – so we all hope that is not going to be the case this time. He is held in high esteem as a captain and player, with no blame being in any way appended to his frequent dismissals from the pitch; Sam can do no wrong! Jonathan has been offering his analysis of players, games, psychology, weather, mood, pitch and location, all leading to the conclusion that it is Wales’ game. Everyone is wearing red and game analysis conversations can be heard from the aisles of Tesco to the Royal enclosure. The welsh archbishop of Canterbury chose to announce his resignation a day before the big match, a bad move if he was looking for publicity, he is in the shadow of the Grand Slam.
One very sad note which has rung amongst the peel of expectation is the death of ‘Merv the Swerve’ as he is very affectionately known in Wales. Merv led, arguably, the best ever Wales side to Grand Slam victories in the 70s and in his honour flags at the stadium are at half-mast and players on both sides will wear black arm bands. Many are hoping that Merv’s spirit will lead the boys to victory today. And so, the big screens are being mounted in Cardiff’s streets for those without tickets; the extra trains are rolling in from north and east; roads are being closed and extra car parks created in anticipation of the phenomenal number of supporters expected in Cardiff today. The weather man says “rain”, but no one cares; French or Welsh, everyone is excited, full of expectation, anticipating a match to beat all matches; the French have their horns and cockerels hidden away on their person, the Welsh have their daffodil hats and leaks and Tom Jones lyrics ready to roll out. May the best team win? Rubbish, Come on Wa-ales!
