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Written by Billy Keane
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No crumbs in Bread Of Heaven
A tale of taxis, tickets, touts and the topless by the Taff
I KNOW a man who had a bad time of it lately.
Have you ever had a day when you lock the keys into the car, mixed the mauve Santa ganzee with the azure thongs in the washing machine, send the wrong cat to the vet for neutering, cut your face to pieces with your partner's leg razor, get plastered later on that night and tell the woman next door in No 89 that you always loved her and that the composition of her clothesline gave you the biggest thrill since Dana won the Eurovision pulling a train?
Well, that just about sums up day the Irish team had in Cardiff. Nothing went right, especially in the first half.
Gavin Henson scored a deflected drop goal that looked more like a twirl in a game of spin the bottle and a prop showed the skill of an out-half to score a try which was very bad form. Yet, it would be churlish to claim we deserved to win. The Welsh have been the most exciting team in the 6 Nations. The mad city by the Taff has never seen anything quiet like it. Almost a million people in the town. Hymns and arias. Red everywhere, even the bras. For this was a day when many girls togged off in the twenty something heat of Costa Del Cardiff.
A hundred thousand ticketless watched on a big screen near Cardiff Castle. I would estimate about seventy per cent were half-cut before the game and a hundred per cent were fully cut by about eight o'clock. By then Cardiff was like a town in the wild west the night the cowboys get their pay.
It's seven in the morning now as I tip tap on the lap top here in a soulless hotel on the circumference of a roundabout.
My room mate John Balfe of Bective Rangers is asleep. He looks serene, in a world of his own. He's talking, maybe even to Welsh coach Mike Ruddock. Mike is a Bective man. Loves the club and who could blame him? He texts the boys after every game, but he moved on.
I won't be going anywhere if I can't find my shoes. The telly is showing a documentary on the evils of drink. Why didn't they put in on last night? I wouldn't wish the hangover on your man Mac Grath who reffed the five-in-a-row final against Offaly.
There's a gnawing realisation I might have insulted someone but I'm not sure who it is. General apologies. But it could have been worse. I was lucky I wasn't killed outside Cardiff Railway station. The queue for our train to Newport was about as long as the Shannon. Anyway, I spotted a taxi dropping off a few travellers. I made for it. There were six seven more in the chase .The whips were out. I was only about fourth.
"The waters are after breaking," I shouted. The Bangladeshi ordered my rivals to let me in. When the mob saw the car fill up with my friends they went completely insane but I locked the doors.
A man who would make Moss Keane look like a small boy tried not only to open the door but pull it from the hinges. We managed to drive off. The Badger opened the window when we were at a safe distance. "We'll call the baby after you," he roared.
The giant came at us again. But as Jack of Jack in the Beanstalk fame will tell you giants are slow runners but still the Bangladesh man had to break the lights. Phew.
But nearly everyone we met was good humoured. It just meant so much to them. A little boy, Kevin, had an intricate painted dragon on his face. I asked him who did it. "My mammy," he said.
I was immediately lonesome for my own lad who is the same age. It was only two words but they were said with such love and respect I just knew Wales would win. Kevin's dad Jason won two tickets in a raffle. Mammy insisted the boys take them up. They had to win. It just means so much to them. Rugby is their national game.
I ran into the Irish team in a park near the Hilton Hotel. Foley my pal gave me a huge hug. He ran himself into the ground for Ireland. We gave it everything but it was written that Wales should win.
We knocked great value out of this team. I'm not going to criticise them. No way can you say a bad word about men who would die for the jersey.
Humphries had the Welsh in a panic near the end. O'Driscoll almost set up a try which would have left us a score behind with five to go.
He is a player not only of immense skill but he possesses a courage which manifests itself in adversity. That's the sign of greatness.
Johnny O'Connor was the outstanding loose forward in a loose game and O Connell gave his all for the jersey.
But it was a 'Wales' of a day and who could begrudge them? You have no idea how much they love this game, love their country and their language.
It came out in the singing. The rehearsal lasted all of 22 years. That was the last time they beat us in Cardiff. The singing was a communion between players and fans. I suppose you could call it Bread Of Heaven. |
