Tuesday, 26 June 2012

And So It Begins


So it begins. The relentless barrage of analysis as to why England have been knocked out of a tournament again.

Immediately after the game, Chris Waddle raged on Radio 5live about Roy Hodgson’s tactics and his team’s inability to pass the ball. Alan Green was hosting the show and he was equally incensed by Hodgson and his squad saying,

“I see absolutely no reason for optimism with this team under Roy Hodgson.”

Many of the callers seemed more knowledgeable and had better insights than the so-called expert pundits. Chris Waddle’s embarrassing rant was reminiscent of his infamous Bloemfontein outburst two years ago following England’s exit to Germany. In his latest tirade, he berated the players’ shortcomings complaining,

“These boys just can’t pass. Why can’t English players pass from A to B?”

Although exaggerated and terribly expressed, there is some substance to Waddle’s argument. On Sunday, England’s top passer was Ashley Cole with 44 while Andrea Pirlo managed 131. Italy managed 833 passes to England’s 364 and had 36 shots on goal to England’s 9. Over on talkSPORT, Stan Collymore was presenting a similar show where the first caller questioned the validity of Wayne Rooney’s selection. Furthermore, drive-time presentable, the aggravating Adrian Durham claimed on twitter that the reason for England’s demise was that,

“Rooney didn’t show up.”

There’s something slightly desperate about blaming a striker for the team’s failings when they only managed 32% possession in 120 minutes of football. Nevertheless it further shows the arrogance and idiocy of some England supporters.

The truth is, England are not a very good team. Also, some players were unavailable for various reasons in Frank Lampard, Jack Wiltshire, Chris Smalling, Gary Cahill, Gareth Barry (all injured), Paul Scholes (retired), Michael Carrick (declined selection), Wayne Rooney (suspended for start of tournament) as well as the non-selection of Adam Johnstone, Rio Ferdinand and Micah Richards. Add to that the fact that Hodgson was has only been in charge for a matter of months and if anything England over-performed by finishing top of their group.

Before the Italian game, everyone seemed to be behind England’s campaign. There was nothing but positive vibes coming from the camp with players looking like they were actually enjoying their football. Smiles were even spotted at the training ground, which is something that went completely astray under the headmaster-like watch of Fabio Capello. Since then, there have been very few positives discussed but rather the familiar, droning groans of dissatisfaction have filled the newspapers, television and radio.

Hodgson’s appointment ahead of public-favourite Harry Redknapp was a hotly debated topic, but Roy was always going to be a popular choice with the FA. He’s a conservative manager who excels in organising and solidifying teams and making them ‘hard to beat’. His tactics mirror his character and it’s in no way a criticism of his personality but the FA would find it easier to manipulate Hodgson than a larger character such as Harry Redknapp.

Despite feeling the wrath of the general English public initially, it’s a rather shrewd and unfamiliarly refreshing move by the FA to appoint a manager such as Roy Hodgson. What it does, is admit that England aren’t a competition-winning team but a team in transition that are in desperate need of some stability and organisation. Roy Hodgson is the perfect man for the job in that sense because that’s what he does best. Maybe after Roy has had his turn and foundations have been laid it could be time for Harry Redknapp to come in with some invention, but for now; Roy is the man for the job.

It’s important to remember that in normal time during the competition, England didn’t lose a single game in normal time. In the league, it would have been 8 points from a possible 12; very respectable form for a mid-table team. That’s what England are on the European and world stage; a mid-table premiership team. You have your Manchester United and Manchester City in Germany and Spain. Arsenal and Chelsea are represented by Portugal and Italy and then you have Tottenham and Everton/Newcastle represented by Holland and France. The rest of the league is made up of the rest of the countries, including England.

The performance in the quarter final was abject, but had they been able to nick a goal on the break and win a la Chelsea against Barcelona in the Champions League or even Bayern Munich on penalties, everyone would have been praising the English saying,

“They did what they needed to do to win.”

Predictably, though, Alan Green and the rest of the expertly placed pundits took the outrageous stance of saying,

“Had England gone through tonight, I would have been embarrassed.”

Not only is this completely untrue, it’s also ridiculously arrogant. England aren’t as good as Italy. Roy Hodgson picked a team and a formation that would give them the best chance of going through to the next round and essentially he was one kick away from doing so. Are there things he maybe should have done differently? Probably.

Should he have played another man in midfield to try and gain more possession? Probably. Should he have swayed away from the 4-4-2 formation in an international tournament? Probably. Should he have sent Ashley Young home as soon as he’d arrived? Probably. Would any of that have made any difference whatsoever? Definitely not.

England did what every one of us had predicted prior to the competition; get through the group stages and crash out at the quarters. The fact that they finished top of the group ahead of France, managed to beat Sweden in tournament play and remain undefeated in normal time is a decent start for Roy Hodgson’s reign as England manager. He’s given players such as Alex Oxlade-Chamberlain, Andy Carroll, Danny Welbeck etc invaluable tournament experience which will stand them in good stead for the World Cup in Brazil two years from now.

Many callers, pundits, experts and presenters will voice their outspoken opinions with vociferous vigour. Yet, if they feel so passionately about the state of the English game they should go out and get their coaching qualifications so that they can affect the game physically as opposed to spending their days moaning about its inadequacy.









Monday, 18 June 2012

Tom Maynard: Top Bloke



It’s moments like these that put sport into perspective. We’ve lost an unbelievable talent and more tragically we’ve lost a truly great man.


With all the success of his father, he could have quite easily clung onto his old man during his career; but that wasn’t Tom. Even at an early age he demonstrated the work ethic that made everyone who played with or against him take notice. He was destined to be a professional cricketer and he made his first class debut at just 18 years of age, testament to his character.

Despite being the best cricketer in the team by some way, he was undoubtedly a team man. Every time I played with him he was the hub of the team. Cricket is a game where cliques can quite easily be created, especially among teenagers; but this simply didn’t happen on his watch. Any newcomers were greeted like family by him and his enthusiasm was infectious.

Touring with him was an absolute pleasure as I got to know him as Tom Maynard the boy and not the cricketer and he was equally if not more talented as a socialite. We got into as much mischief as any 15 year olds would on tour, but when cricket came around; he was switched on.

At times, bowlers couldn’t bowl at him. In my last game with him at Cresselly he was at his devastating best notching up another ton in typical swashbuckling fashion against Pembrokeshire. It was a dream to bat with him and you could see the fear in the bowlers’ eyes when they were running into bowl. Not many players have that aura about them, but he certainly did. At the tea break, he was far more interested in discussing the shots of his team-mates than his own; further measure of the type of guy that he was.

He was the type of person that you were proud to be able to call a team-mate and even prouder to call him a mate. I’ve never come across anybody with a bad word to say about him, which is no real shock because he was an absolute gem of a bloke.

When we were playing together, there were a few boys in the team that you knew were going to make the step up to the professional game. Ben Wright was one, Mike O’Shea another and Tom was the other. Considering he was a year younger than all of us and still the best player in the team is quite outstanding and I’ve got no doubt that he would have gone on to play for England one day.

He is unquestionably the most talented player I’ve ever had the pleasure of playing with and I’m honoured to have been able to call him a friend. We’ve lost a remarkable individual but the feeling of emptiness and horror we have coursing through our veins is nothing compared to how Matt, Sue and Ceri will be feeling. My thoughts are with them as they try to find strength from somewhere. They’ve raised a thoroughly decent, likeable man and a breathtaking talent; they should be so proud of that.

We’ve had a top lad taken from us and Tommy, Mavis, Maynard; you’ll be sorely missed by us all. Sleep well, mate.

Friday, 15 June 2012

Time To Deliver


Tomorrow is a day of reckoning for Northern Hemisphere rugby. There can be no more complaints of settling in, match fitness or rustiness; it’s time to deliver. If our teams don’t then it will further add to the already vociferous argument that the Southern Hemisphere teams are miles ahead of their Northern Hemisphere counterparts.


First up are the Irish who have the unenviable task of taking on the All Blacks in Christchurch. It will be a momentous occasion for the city as it will be the first test to be played there since 2010 and the catastrophe of the earthquakes that has severed the city centre. When the Crusaders opened the stadium with its first game, the visiting Cheetahs were beaten 28-21; the Irish have a lot to do to even match that scoreline let alone win. In the first test in Auckland they were completely outplayed in every facet of the game. Jonny Sexton, who’s usually calmness personified in the blue shirt of Leinster looked flustered behind a pack getting brutalised.
The Irish conceded 59% possession and 62% territory to the World Champions, and they made them pay. The usually-solid scrum got completely dismantled by the Kiwi front row as the Irish scrum success rate was a measly 43% winning just 3 of their 7 scrums. The All Blacks managed 20 line breaks amassing 746m in a performance that head coach Steve Hansen admitted there was still room for improvement,

“There is still a lot we can work on. There were a couple of tries that we blew.”

But this was the first time the team had come together in months having only been in camp as a squad for five days prior to the test match. It was a night of firsts as debutant Julian Savea exploded onto the scene with a blistering hat-trick in a total of five tries for the world’s number one team. The most talked-about man in the team was Sonny Bill Williams, who by his own standards had put in a poor performance despite finding Dan Carter with a trademark offload in the build up to Savea’s first international try. He’s been given a rare starting berth at 12 due to the absence of Ma’a Nonu and he’ll be desperate to give Steve Hansen a selection headache to try and fit Nonu, Conrad Smith and himself into the same team.

The ominous thing for the Irish is the fact that they dominated territory and possession for the first twenty minutes but only had a Jonny Sexton penalty to show for it. Their only other points game from a freak breakaway try by Fergus McFadden. Even if they manage to stop the Kiwis scoring, they have to find a way through the black brick wall and at the moment; that doesn’t look likely. Unfortunately, New Zealand are such a formidable force that not even God himself (Brian O’Driscoll) can seem to do anything to stem the flow of their superiority. The game will probably be closer than last week but it’s very difficult to see anything but a home win in this one.

The second televised game will be in Melbourne as Wales look to win the second test against the Wallabies. For the first time in recent years, Wales looked sluggish. This might have been partly down to the fact that a number of players in the Welsh team hadn’t played in over 2 months. However, it was also because of the ferocious pace that the Australians were playing in the opening twenty minutes. Will Genia was a man possessed all game and his threat around the ruck created space elsewhere for his team-mates. He attracted defenders constantly and rightly so; when Wales ignored his threat around the ruck he sniped his way through Adam Jones and Gethin Jenkins and left James Hook looking like a newly born foal. David Pocock outplayed his opposite number at the breakdown and this controlled the pace of the game. When the Wallabies attacked, they did so with quick, clean ball. When Wales attacked, Pocock et al made sure it was scrappy, slow ball for Mike Phillips who was often left with no option but to kick; and unfortunately he kicked regularly to a potent Wallaby back 3 who ran the ball back with gusto.

It was a reverse performance in many ways for Wales, which made it all the more infuriating. The often-criticized lineout won all 14 of their own and stole 2 of their opposition’s 8; this added to the frustration of onlookers as they employed an in-field kicking game as opposed to kicking to touch and challenging the Wallaby line. The scrum would have been seen as an area of weakness that Wales could target but due to Australia’s superior territory, when scrums did occur they did so in the middle third of the pitch. They also didn’t occur very often, which added to quality of the game. There were only 8 scrums in the 80 minutes, compared with the 14 we had do endure during the England game. The thing that made it such a strange performance by Wales was their defence. Shaun Edwards’ work with that side of the game has ensured a steel-enforced red line of technically sound tacklers. Saturday, though, it was anything but. The usually ever-reliable Gethin Jenkins missed three tackles and Toby Faletau suffered his first bad performance in a Wales jersey missing three of his own (although it was later revealed that he’d broken his hand after five minutes).

It’s the worst Welsh performance in some time, but this is the reason the fans shouldn’t be disheartened. Despite butchering a number of opportunities, kicking badly, coughing up possession and losing the breakdown battle; they still only lost 27-19. If they play like we all know they’re capable of, they can win on Saturday. Much has been made of stopping Will Genia and David Pocock, yet if Wales can release the likes of North, Halfpenny, Jon Davies and Cuthbert suddenly the game changes. With Ashley Beck getting the nod ahead of Scott Williams, there’s every chance that his guile can do just that. It should prove to be a humdinger once again but Wales simply must win this one. If they don’t they will come home still longing for that ‘big scalp’ that everybody harks on about so often. This team shouldn’t be looking for a scalp, they should be looking for a test series win against the second best team in the world because they’re good enough to do so. If they lose on Saturday, they’ll have underachieved; it’s as simple as that.

When Stuart Lancaster took over following Martin Johnson’s departure it looked as if England would be adopting a running and fluid game-plan, however, last Saturday’s game against South Africa was anything but fluid and there was little running. Owen Farrell has copped much of the flak as he’s struggled in recent games to release his backline. It hasn’t helped him having Brad Barritt outside him, who is one of the best defending centres in the world, but he’s about as instinctive as Joe Worsley with ball in hand. With the running ability of Manu Tuilagi, Chris Ashton and Ben Foden; there’s no excuse not to get them into the game and for that Farrell has paid the ultimate price as he drops to the bench in a straight swap with Toby Flood.

The injured Brad Barritt has also seen his 12 jersey given to the more creative Jonathan Joseph in an attempt to spark some ingenuity into England’s performance. The game in Durban was a poor international test match and the tactics of both teams made for dull viewing. The stats speak for themselves with this one. In the game, South Africa and England managed a combined 245 passes compared with 315 in the Ireland game and 302 in the Wales game. In the running stakes they managed just 195 carries again compared with 218 in the Ireland game and 244 in the Wales game. Between them, they also kicked the ball 50 times in open play, 14 scrums and 15 lineouts. The most exasperating thing was the tactics employed by Lancaster. If there’s a team in world rugby that you don’t want to get into a kicking battle and an arm-wrestle with, it’s the Springboks. It’s what these men grow up doing; they’re the best in the world at it and have been for quite some time. Bizarrely, England kicked more in open play than the Boks did. If they play the open game that they’re capable of, the South African’s are there for the taking; but they’ve got to be brave enough to do it.

It’s probably the most important weekend of rugby for Northern Hemisphere rugby in the professional era. If there’s another whitewash, it proves that we’ve been deluded by the six nations and that we’re still a long way behind the best.

If we compare Wales and Australia there is an enormous difference of viewpoint. When the Australians come to town, Cardiff explodes and in every newspaper there is a pullout of how this is going to be Wales’ year. Radio and TV shows dissect every selection dilemma, tactics, statistics and possible scenario for weeks leading up to the fame. On match day, the city is a sea of red and there’s not a spare seat in the Millennium Stadium. Conversely, when a Wallaby fan was asked about the Wales tour he said,

“It probably won’t sell out because it’s just Wales and people aren’t interested. It takes a big team like New Zealand or South Africa to really capture the public imagination. We always beat you guys (Wales) so I guess it’s just not a big deal.”

Although this might anger Welsh fans, it’s the equivalent of Wales hosting Italy. Although the Azzurri have caused upsets in the past, it’s a should-win game for Wales and therefore people tend to disengage from it because of the perceived inevitability of the outcome.

History doesn’t lie, of the seven rugby world cups there has been a Southern Hemisphere winner six times. It’s time the six nations, as a collective, did some damage on foreign soil. With the Lions tour coming up next year, what better way is there to stake a claim than by being part of a series-winning team against the opponents in Australia?

It’s about time the Southern Hemisphere’s attitude towards the Northern Hemisphere teams changed. The only way to achieve that is by winning; because they may be a lot of things but they’re certainly winners.







Sunday, 3 June 2012

The Black Army


It was quite fitting that Llantrisant Rugby Club should end the season with a match that reflects their season; a game of two halves.

A fair crowd turned up at Sardis Road and thanks to the incompetent guidance of twelve Pontypridd RFC officials it only took twenty minutes to park. On a sun-drenched Tuesday evening, the players were the envy of many because without a breath of wind, a firm but forgiving pitch and glorious sunshine they were given something that many of us go our careers without experiencing; perfect playing conditions (pictured left).

The opening exchanges belonged to The Black Army and had the parking attendants demonstrated as much spatial awareness as the players on the pitch, the supporters probably wouldn’t be placed on the waiting list for a parking spot despite ample availability. Harry Rees was the first to make inroads as he ran off the shoulder of Jonny Williams on the halfway line. Rees barnstormed his way into the Senghenydd 22 but slack handling cost Llantrisant the imminent try.

This would be the last of the Senghenydd 22 that The Black Army would see for the rest of the first half as The Saints completely dominated territory and possession. Senghenydd’s first visit into the Llantrisant half saw them return with points as James Hallett slotted a penalty over from 44m on the angle for the first points of the evening. Lewys Montague answered straight back for Llantrisant to level the scores at 3-3 with a penalty of his own.

The Saints then applied an onslaught on Llantrisant’s line and had their finishing been more clinical it’s safe to say that The Black Army would have been well and truly beaten before the halftime whistle had even sounded. Twice on the near touchline the Aber Valley outfit butchered golden opportunities and they could quite easily have found themselves way out in front, instead they had to settle for another 3 points from a Hallett penalty.

It was at this stage that the referee decided to make the final all about him. His first questionable decision was to sin bin the Senghenydd second row for an infringement at the breakdown. The ball was already slow for Glenn Holloway and despite the penalty being conceded 40m out and on the touchline, referee Greg Morgan had deemed it worthy of a yellow card. Almost immediately afterwards, he must’ve realised he’d made a mistake because he evened the decision out by sending Simon Williams to the bin for a perfectly legitimate turnover. Not only that but it was the first penalty Llantrisant had conceded at the breakdown all game; the fracas had started. From the resulting penalty, James Hallett stretched his team’s lead to 6 and it was the start of yet another siege upon Llantrisant’s try line.

Senghenydd reverted back to their strength, that of creating perfect scoring opportunities and finding a way to sabotage them; much like Mosese Luveitasau Yabakitini used to do for the Cardiff Blues. By now, this disease had spread through the whole team because the earlier-reliable Hallett was now missing straightforward chances at goal too, further letting the under-performing Black Army off the hook. There was an air of inevitability about the opening try of the game and it was the unfortunate Montague who gifted Senghenydd the opportunity. The fullback spilled the ball behind his own line as he looked to clear his lines for the umpteenth time. From the resulting scrum James Carmichael rumbled his way over, carrying the back row over with him. James Hallett found his kicking boots after 3 wayward attempts and slotted the conversion to take the score to 16-3.

Llantrisant seemed unable to keep hold of the ball and began to cough up possession almost every phase of play. This prompted a change from the coaches, not in personnel but their vantage point. Gareth Alexander and Huw Jones had started the game right at the back of the stand, but gradually this setup changed. Firstly, Huw Jones, known as the voice of reason; the calmer member of the coaching staff made his way down to the dugout to try and alter the way his team were playing. This left Gareth Alexander aka Urban to his own devices at the back of the stand and following the try he uncharacteristically lost the plot and in a blur of arm-waving and obscenities he joined Huw Jones at pitchside where said arm-waving and obscenities continued. Unfortunately, the coaches’ presence on the touchline didn’t change the fortunes of the players on the pitch as Senghenydd closed the half with another penalty, leaving the score 19-3 at the break. Despite the efforts of Matthew Griffiths who looked sharp in attack and Ben Coombs who had carried and defended tirelessly throughout the half, the Division 2 team simply couldn’t get a foothold in the game.

Thankfully, the halftime team talk couldn’t be heard from the stands, but whatever was said had worked because as was the case in the first half, the opening exchanges were all Llantrisant’s. They managed to keep hold of the ball for a number of patient phases inside the opposition 22 which lead to the prominent Simon Williams going over for a try from close range. The resulting conversion from Montague was charged down but The Black Army were back in it at 19-8.

In a complete change of fortune, it was now Llantrisant who were in control of the possession and territory and Senghenydd were now feeling the wrath of referee Morgan’s whistle. Julian Andrews was now offering himself as a carrier time and again as he valiantly carried the attack to the opposition. Montague slotted a straightforward penalty to bring the scores to 19-11 and then a few minutes later he knocked a similar kick over to bring his team to within one score at 19-14. The Army were now firmly in the driving seat. Having seen a long-range effort drop under the bar, Montague was faced with a tricky kick 36m out following another infringement at the breakdown. He showed maturity beyond his years as he dissected the posts once more to bring Llantrisant to within one kick of the lead.

Llantrisant launched another attack and with the referee holding out his arm for an advantage, Sean Gilbertson went over the try line only to drop the ball. Play was brought back and Montague again knocked over the kick to give his team the lead for the first time in the game.

The Rhondda-based outfit were now faced with the task of closing the game out. Senghenydd managed to sneak their way into their opposition’s half and upon this rare visit (pictured left), they were awarded with a penalty 42m out. With Hallett now off the field, it was down to Senghenydd’s second-choice kicker to put his team into a 2 point lead; which he did with aplomb.

The final minutes were probably the best of the game with both teams neglecting their kicking games in an attempt to keep hold of the ball. With most of the play taking place between the two teams’ 22s, discipline was of the essence. It proved to be one breakdown too many for Gareth Short as he couldn’t resist a foolish play at the ball on the floor. This act of idiocy gave Montague a shot at the win from 44m and back-rower Short would watch the remainder of the game from the sideline having received a yellow card. Fortunately for him, the penalty was scuffed and his side remained in front.

With the clock past 80 minutes, Llantrisant threw one last desperate attack at their opposition’s line. Proving that he’d been watching a lot of television this year and that he was probably being paid commission for yellow cards, another Senghenydd player was making his way to the sideline for a dubious tip-tackle on the ever-present Simon Williams. With Montague pulling up with cramp, the season had gone full circle and it was down to Jonny Williams to take the last kick of the game from just outside the 22. Just as we’d seen in the early stages of the season, he confidently struck the ball clean through the posts; giving Llantrisant the victory 22-23.

It’s a shame that the travelling Senghenydd supporters weren’t as gracious in defeat as their players. The small pocket of supporters really let themselves down by coming onto the pitch when the game had finished specifically to ironically applaud the referee and his assistants as they collected their medals. Others decided that it would be a good idea to make turkey noises at the Llantrisant kickers as they aimed at goal. Ironically, their season is likely to resemble a turkey next year. They’ll live an ugly existence and their dry, tasteless nature will offend almost everyone, they’ll spend September to December getting taken advantage of by the bigger turkeys, they’ll get stuffed around Christmas and eventually thrown away and forgotten by the New Year.

As mentioned before, the final mirrored The Black Army’s season and the classic sporting cliché; a game of two halves. Llan started the season indifferently and were the epitome of mid-table mediocrity. The turning point of the season was the departure of two players; Huw Williams and myself. We left after the 25-25 draw away at Ynysybwl, since then the only game we’ve lost as a first team was the friendly away to Premiership outfit Pontypridd. Towards the end of the season, I was fortunate enough to be involved in the final league match of our campaign away at Ystrad Rhondda. Predictably, given my presence, we lost. But although the time I spent on the pitch was short lived, it did produce seven points. Therefore, theoretically if I’d have spent the whole 80 minutes on the wing impersonating a fast person, we’d have won 1,120-0. Seeing as we’re on statistics, here’s some more for you. In my debut season for The Black Army, I played 13 games scoring exactly 100 points. In the games where I was involved, we won four, lost 8 and drew one. On average, we scored 17 points per game and conceded 22. In the 13 games, discounting bonus points, there were 44 points on offer; we took just 18 points from these games and we got knocked out in the first round of two cup competitions. As soon as I left, in all competitive matches, the first team played 7 and won 7, taking 24 points from a possible 24 and winning a cup final. Furthermore, we averaged 28 points a game and conceded 16 when I wasn’t in the team. Probably won’t be putting that on my rugby CV. Just be thankful that I selflessly injured myself before the final, completely avoiding any sort of involvement whatsoever.

Had the first half of the season matched the second, we’d been right in the shake-up for promotion. Unfortunately, it wasn’t to be, but the way the boys performed in the closing stages of the season should give them infinite confidence going into next year. With the top 4 teams leaving the division and no-one coming down from above, there isn’t anyone to fear next year.

Hopefully, the only difference at Cefn Mabely next year will be the results, nothing else needs to change. On the field, the lineout needs to function like it did in the final and not revert back to the mid-winter monstrosity that it was under the glazed-over watch of Huw Williams. The scrum should remain solid with the introduction of Shrek who seems to me to be made out of a tree. He should definitely carry on eating toddlers or whatever it is that he does to be that big. Kieron Evans needs to keep goal-hanging which will in turn make Harry Rees angry; no one wants to tackle an angry Harry Rees. Glenn Holloway should marshal his troops as he has done all year and maybe work on a miss 12 as opposed to this year’s miss 10. For team morale, let’s hope that Sean Gilbertson has got another year in him because when he gets knocked out, it’s a nice get-together for the rest of the team while he has a little sleep, lazy bastard.

Next year’s success way well hinge on that man Jason Alford. With fresh faces in the league there will be plenty of wingers that he’ll be able to mercilessly berate, good luck to him and even more luck to the wingers. Alex James definitely needs to keep tackling everything that moves, although maybe the club could invest in a steel-enforced number 7 shirt seeing as he manages to turn every jersey he wears into a cheeky off-the-shoulder number by the time he comes off the pitch. Monty needs to buy himself a CD of farm animal noises so that he can train his mind to for the trip to Senghenydd and keep kicking like a machine. One area of improvement, though. So to avoid falling short with those long-range efforts, eat a few pasties a week to fill that right leg, forget what nutritionalists will tell you; weight is good.

On the training paddock, it’s vital that Urban continues to wear shorts on his head, the only difference being that there should be 28 people laughing at him, not just 8. If Gareth Alexander is the bad cop, Huw Jones is certainly the good cop and he needs to continue to implement a positive, free-flowing brand of rugby; despite Urban wanting to keep it in the forwards. I’ll let you two fight that one out, I’m not getting involved. Ian Worgan absolutely needs to continue to be the finest, keenest, loudest and funniest touch rugby player in the Northern Hemisphere while Owen ‘Spud’ Bater continues his reign as the world’s worst. It’s good to see that Spud’s time away from the game is not being wasted. His seminars on ‘How to make Gareth Alexander snap’ have sometimes been better attended than training sessions, but one man is top of the class. Martyn Griffiths is Owen Bater in the making. Where Spud uses the more conventional verbal annoyance, his protégé is far more inconspicuous but ultimately produces the same result. Eggy has adopted the pragmatic approach of completely ignoring the rules set out by Urban in training matches. His favourite trick is competing for the ball at the ruck despite his coach specifically telling him not to. In one training session following such an infringement, Urban huddled the team together and addressed them with a message regarding his new nemesis. Seeing as it’s a family club, I’ve altered some of the words,

            “If that stunt puts his ducking hands on the stunting ball again, kick him in the ducking head. I don’t care if you kill the stunt, ducking stamp on his stunting head.”

Thankfully, he didn’t do it again. One thing the club could invest in is sending Headlock on a refereeing course, we all know why; no need to elaborate on that point. It’s really important that Ian Wharton keeps wearing the most haggard training gear the game has ever seen, especially in the muddier months of December and January. Jamie Joyce definitely needs to keep maintaining with the juice because it’s only a matter of time before he’s the biggest man in the club. Leon needs to keep attending his Jamaican sprint camp over the summer, though maybe this year he could take Scott Dean with him. As legendary as the ‘slow & go’ is, if Beany could gain a yard of pace, we’d see more of those glorious swan dives on facebook. Cameron Doster will be completing a series of experiments prepared by NASA in an attempt to transplant the muscles in his face to his legs. Doster’s problem is illustrated below with what he looks like now and what he’d look like if the rest of his body matched the muscle mass in his face.

It’s a common problem known as truckface and among the high-profile sufferers are Ceri Sweeney and rugby league’s Brent Tate. If for some reason the experiment isn’t a success, his brother Aaron is on standby to receive the excess jawline so that e can add hit to his comparatively chinless face; yet more evidence of his wisdom.

Off the field, there are many things that need to remain a constant. The Thursday night quiz should probably be televised in a QI-type production. Morph would of course be Stephen Fry, albeit a slightly shorter but equally camp version. Duke, Jack and Tarvy would be on the panel and sitting in Alan Davies’ coveted seat would be the one and only Lee Austin. It’s a shame that University Challenge doesn’t branch out, because a Llantrisant Rugby Football Club quartet of Lee Austin, Rhys Ferris, Sean Stephens and Jamie Joyce could quite rightly be on pay-per-view. It’s also quite important that the David brothers keep looking alike so that I can keep calling them by their siblings’ names.

There’s one area of the club that may well hold the key to the future of Llantrisant Rugby Football Club; twitter. Lee Kerslake’s work as the club’s twitter publicity officer is relentless and it’s a matter of time until Lord Alan Sugar reveals himself as The Black Army’s biggest fan. It’s a fluid and diverse place, though despite #llantwittant only being a few months old, it’s already seen some changes. You may recall that Rhys Ferris was once hailed as the king of twitter, but it was one incriminating photo too many for his relationship to withstand and he disgracefully turned his back on the twitter universe. It’s left many followers of @the_ferret in disarray, and many of his biggest fans publicly displayed their disapproval in the wake of his departure.

@mrgayuk wrote:       such a shame to see him gone, his photos really brightened up my day. #nomoreboners L

@nancyboy2 and @uphillgardener both retweeted this.

            @the_dirt_tracker wrote: where am i going to get cheeky snaps of a man                                                          in a beany showing just enough shaft so that it’s ok for me to set it as my work desktop                                                                 background from now? #nothappy

Both @briandowling and @fudgepacker favourited this.

His fan-base feel well and truly let down, but they needn’t fear because a new man is on his way. He’s currently in a relationship which has seen him slip down the top perve rankings, topped obviously by Jonny Williams. Despite being in love, Monty still has the common courtesy of posting pictures of himself in his pants and it’s a matter of time before he’s following in the footsteps of the late and great Rhys Ferris.


(Monty’s “come get me, boys” pose.)
The youth team this year have excelled on and off the pitch. Winning the league in the fashion that they did is a remarkable achievement and it’s a testiment to their togetherness. I’m sure they owe much to their fearless leader Sean Stephens, who despite falling short on personal hygiene, has proved himself to be an admirable skipper. Look out, Glenn. The club is in great hands going forward, though if Elliot Jones has any aspirations, he’ll need to have a wash; because his face still smells like arse after an unfortunate incident after the Penarth game.

After the traditional boat races and 6 halves, the Penarth captain singled Elliot out as the Llan player in the best shape, narrowly edging out Shitty. He was the challenged to complete the ultimate sit-up. Keen as mustard, he ripped his top off and joined two Penarth players, one either side of him in the sit-up position. They linked arms and legs and on the count of three Elliot attempted the ultimate sit-up. As he strained to get up off the floor, the Penarth players held him down and the helpless scrum-half was a sitting duck as a bare arse came down upon his face.

A number of members rained down upon Chernobyl in Northern Ukraine last weekend. Thanks to the Football European Championships kicking off in a few weeks, the price of a pint trebled to a staggering £1.20. With a kitty of £6,000, that equates to 5,000 pints; meaning each touring member would have 156 pints to consume. Had the tourists traveled last year, the price of a pint was 33p; that’s 18,182 pintsm, an astonishing 586 pints each. Probably for the best, otherwise it would have meant the majority of Llanrisant RFC relocating to Eastern Europe and not just Jamie Coleman. He was last seen at the airport, but managed to get himself lost in the departure lounge. Despite holding the aircraft for 45 minutes, there was still no sign of him and the touring party were forced to leave their comrade behind. Sources close to Coleman say that he’s met a delightful girl called Erika. She bottles milk in the local dairy farm and they’re currently looking to buy a city centre property to open a milkshake shop. Good luck to them both.
The club has got a lot of things right and the foundation is there to achieve great things next season. It’s a proper rugby club with the emphasis on the right things thanks to the committee. It all fits together nicely, however, there are a few things that need to change if the club is going to evolve and reach its potential:

  1. Ryan Harrison has got to stop wearing that stupid scrumcap.
  2. Huw Williams needs to be monitored on a Friday night.
  3. Lee Austin needs to follow through with his promise and get on the gear; that can only end well.
  4. New players should be given a welcome pack to draw their attention to Flyer’s thumbs, Urban’s temperament and Jason Alford as a whole.
  5. Sean Stephens needs to check into rehab before it’s too late.
  6. Karl Groves should be made to attend therapeutic spa sessions on Tuesday lunchtimes so that he doesn’t come to training wanting to kill us.
  7. Someone needs to tell Simon Williams that he is actually allowed to catch the ball with two hands in the lineout, I’m not telling him though, he’s massive.
  8. Rhys Ferris should be forced to return to #llantwittant, I’ve wasted a fortune on him already buying digital channel 824 for FerrisTV, sealing a deal with publishers for The Ferret Magazine, purchasing the domain rhysferris.com and getting Dan Brown to agree to write the book The Ferret. The least he can do is return.
  9. Ben Coombs’ passport needs to be confiscated so he doesn’t do something silly like go back to Afghanistan; there’s plenty of people to shoot in this country.
  10. Kieron Evans needs to use some of his personal stash of fertilizer on the [itch so that it doesn’t end up looking like a scene from Band of Brothers.
  11. Guy Griffiths should be made a recruitment scout for the Vale of Glamorgan, with many players showing an interest of joining The Black Army from the region.
  12. Matthew Griffiths should probably look at changing his pre-match routine, possibly cutting down from 12 to 6 fags.
  13. The calls ‘scrumpo’ and ‘scrumball’ should absolutely be changed. Having called both moves at least 20 times, I still have no idea which is which and on the pitch it’s a gamble as to which one has been called anyway. I just drift out wide and hope Glenn passes to someone else.
  14. Dafydd Israel needs to stop wearing factor 60 all year round because he’s on the verge of becoming see-through.
  15. Andrew Thomas needs to work on culturing his left foot because at the moment it resembles a 48-year-old man in Mallorca with a pint of Carlsberg in one hand, fish & chips in the other, watching Bolton V Blackburn on a big screen whilst wearing an England shirt with ‘Dave 66’ on the back, a trilby, socks and sandals.
  16. Flyer for President, not of the club; but the world.

Once again gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure.



                                    

Monday, 14 May 2012

Sporting Heaven

Weekends like these that restore people’s faith in sport. The weekend came to a breathtaking climax yesterday with Sergio Aguero smashing Manchester City to the top of the table to see them crowned as champions for the first time since 1968. The race for the title was a glorious ingredient in a day of Premier League drama which eventually saw Botlon Wanderers relegated to the Championship along with Blackburn Rovers & Wolves.


This meant Mark Hughes, who was appointed manager in place of Neil Warnock back in January, completed his mission of keeping Queens Park Rangers in the top flight of English football. This morning, Rangers’ owner Tony Fernandes said that we can expect a big announcement from the club in the coming days. This coupled with Hughes’ defiant post-match interview promising the club won’t be fighting relegation under his watch again leads us to assume that they’ll be a busy club in the transfer market this summer.

The other triumphant teams on grand slam Sunday were Arsenal and Tottenham, who secured vital top four finishes. Arsenal finished third which means they qualify automatically for the Champions League, bypassing a qualifying trip to Poland in mid-August. It was a perfect send-off for Pat Rice who leaves Arsenal’s coaching staff having been involved since 1984 and given the turbulent start to the campaign which saw 72% of fans calling for Arsene Wenger to be sacked; it’s not turned out to be a bad campaign at all for the Frenchman. He’s already signalled his intent for next season by signing Lukas Podolski from Cologne as well as being in talks with a handful of other big names, but the true test for him will be getting their talismanic leader, Robin Van Persie, to sign a new contract at the club. After receiving the golden boot award for an incredible 37 goals this year, he hinted that a move was likely, stating,

"I have been playing here for eight years and I love this club. Whatever happens that will never change."

If they can acquire the services of some of the big names, it will show the ambition that Arsenal have been lacking in the transfer window for the past few years. This may encourage the Dutchman to put pen to paper, but with every club in Europe willing to offer him a contract, you couldn’t begrudge him a move elsewhere.

Their North London rivals have a very different situation and they must play the waiting game to find out their fate. Harry Redknapp has already expressed where his allegiances lie and he’ll be hoping that Byern Munich can confirm their position as favourites and beat Chelsea in the Champions League final next week. If Chelsea manage to defy the odds again in the final and win, they earn the right to defend their title, which would mean Spurs drop into the Europa League.

Liverpool finished the season in a familiarly unremarkable fashion as they failed to score away at Swansea to finish 8th in the Premier League. A word of congratulations must be in order for Brendan Rogers’ men who treated 12,000 Elvis look-a-likes to a 1-0 over the Merseyside team. The reason for the mass fancy dress was a quote by the bookmakers at the start of the season who gave better odds for Elvis to play another live gig than for Swansea to be playing in the premier league next season. They’ve finished 11th and have played some wonderful football claiming the scalp champions Manchester City along the way. Kenny Dalglish may have all Liverpool fans under a spell, but the rest of us know he’s got so much work to do and at the moment, he’s simply not coming up with the goods. His recruitment has been diabolical and he’s got into a terrible habit of paying over the odds for distinctly average footballers. Rumours in Merseyside are that he’s in talks with West Brom for a potential £18m move for their reserve keeper Marton Fulop who endured the most torturous afternoon a professional sportsman can experience. He was completely to blame for all three of Arsenal’s goals and if ever there was a man who needed a hug, it was the Hungarian and it’s safe to say that everyone watching would have happily provided a shoulder for the keeper to cry on.

With all these winners, it means of course that there must be losers and no-one lost more this weekend than Bolton Wanderers who took the plunge in the most desperate fashion. They could only manage a 2-2 draw at the Britannia Stadium but both Stoke goals came directly from shocking decisions from Chris Foy. The first goal was nothing short of a farce, Adam Bodgan had the ball firmly in to hands about two yards from goal when Jonathan Walters bundled into him and the impact was such that the keeper and the ball ended up in the back of the net. Foy deemed this to be a perfectly legal act and despite the Stoke striker never making contact with the ball, he was on the score-sheet. The referee’s second blunder came with the score at 2-1 to the visitors when he deemed that Peter Crouch had been brought down by the man Bogdan again. In Foy’s defence, from his angle it looked like there might have been contact, but on closer inspection, Crouch merely fell over leaving who else but Walters to drill home the penalty. Owen Coyle was very gracious in defeat considering the rough ride his team had with the officials and although he explained that the decisions didn’t help, many managers would have been much more forthright in voicing their disapproval of the officiating. He expressed his belief that the side could bounce straight back up given the calibre of the Bolton squad, although, holding onto players such as Martin Petrov may prove a stiff challenge.

The other losers on the day were Manchester United and Newcastle United, though comparable to Bolton’s loss, theirs is like Chris Moyles losing two pounds. Newcastle have had an unbelievable season considering they were promoted last year and Alan Pardew has done remarkably well in sustaining such a consistent season. He’s made two of the best signings of the season by some way in Papiss Cisse and Demba Ba’a and if he can fend off the circling vultures in the summer, it’s a strike-force that can only go from strength to strength. If the Toon Army were offered 5th place at the start of the season, they’d have snapped it up but the way the faded away in the last couple of weeks was a shame, though 5th is the least they deserve.

Manchester United missed out on their 20th title by goal difference and five minutes of injury time. Sir Alex Ferguson was as bullish as ever in his post-match interview as he welcomed the challenge of Manchester City in the years to come and that they’d have to wait 100 years until they reached United’s level of 19 titles. Love him or hate him, you must respect Fergie’s Olympic stamina to keep gong year on year and producing the goods. If there’s one thing the Scotsman knows, it’s winning titles. Fergie said in his bebrief that there’s one thing about the Premier League, if you finish at the top come the end of it, you deserve to lift the trophy.

Whether you agree or not with how Manchester City have won the league given their multi-millionaire investors; they undoubtedly deserve it. They beat their nearest rivals twice including the 6-1 demolition job at Old Trafford and despite being without Carlos Tevez for much of the year; they scored more goals than anyone else in the league and conceded fewer. The weekend, rightfully, belongs to them.

In the euphoria of Sunday’s football, the rest of the weekend’s action was somewhat swept aside. In Swansea on Friday night, we were treated to one of the best Celtic League matches ever to have been played when the Ospreys trounced Munster 45-10 in a game of outstanding quality. On Saturday the Aviva Premiership final was decided as Leicester triumphed at home to Saracens and the Harlequins came out on top against Northampton at the Stoop. Sunday was an epic day, but behind all the football there was an unlikely first-place finish for the Williams team out in Barcelona at the Spanish Grand Prix in F1. Venezuelan Pastor Maldonado registered his first ever F1 win as he took the chequered flag from pole despite heavy competition by runner-up, Ferrari’s Fernando Alonso. This had the lot, with Lewis Hamilton being dropped from pole to back of the grid for running out of fuel in qualifying, Michael Schumacher and Bruno Senna crashing and blaming each other for their early retirements, a malfunctioning pit stop where a driver had to drive over a spare tyre and a raging garage fire in the Williams paddock where thankfully no-one was severely injured. On top of all that, Roger Federer won the Spanish Open tennis on the hotly debated blue clay of Madrid, Matt Kuchar won the Players Championship golf and Penarth CC beat Abergavenny CC in their first league match of the season.

Of course, in every pantomime there is a villain and this week it’s been duly accepted by Joey Barton. His embarrassing antics on the field were laughable and his ongoing feuds on twitter reflect him not only as a sportsman, but a man. The reason for the red card may be questionable as it seemed both he and Carlos Tevez were in the wrong, however, his actions after being shown the red card are completely indefensible. He’s publicly admitted on twitter that as soon as he knew he was sent off, he deliberately tried to get a reaction from one of the Manchester Ctiy players so that they would be walking down the tunnel with him. After striking out at Sergio Aguero, he then attempted a feeble head-butt on Vincent Kompany before being escorted from the putch by none other than opposition fullback Micah Richards. This was only the beginning of the fracas as he became entangled in a war of words on twitter with Robbie Savage and Gary Linekar regarding the BBC broadcast of Match of the Day, claiming he was being personally victimised. Mark Hughes is a good manager and seems like a good bloke, the best thing he could do for football and for humanity is sack Joey Barton and send him to the streets where he’ll inevitably end up where he belongs; prison.

All in all, it was a pretty good weekend. All that’s left to do now is keep an eye out Mario Balotteli’s picture on the front of the tabloid papers, because surely his celebration antics are going to be deliciously entertaining.

Friday, 11 May 2012

Redbirds Don't Fly


Football may not lead the way in prostituting itself for money, but this week, Cardiff City Football Club’s owners have managed to top the whore class. Malaysian owners, headed by the main investor Vincent Tan, have decided that red is a more dynamic colour for marketing in Asia, is more significant to Wales and will help bring in more sponsors and funding from overseas. Therefore they intend to change the bluebirds’ shirt colour from blue to red with talks of a re-name and a(nother) brand new club crest


The way that money rules most sports now is beyond recovery. The sheer size of the contracts on offer from television companies for the rights to broadcast games is unimaginable and the new way that football clubs are run seems to always involve a foreign investor. In the premier league, the first high-profile case was that of Roman Obramovich nearly a decade ago when he entered the fray at Chelsea Football Club. He was met with detestation by other clubs when he appeared to be throwing money into the club and paying preposterous amounts of money for players such as £30m for Andriy Shevchenko, then a British record signing. His spending has gradually reduced since his early days, yet last season he funded the ludicrous £50m signing of Fernando Torres. This has led to people coming in and buying clubs that are struggling financially out of their debt and having sole ownership of the club. Not only is this unsustainable for business, it’s a completely unethical way of running a football club. The two Spanish giants, Barcelona and Real Madrid reported last year that their debts as football clubs are €483m and €244m respectively. This gets overlooked by the bigger teams because it’s viewed as a manageable debt because of the value of the club, players and stadiums etc. Though for other teams to be able to compete, the first thing they have to be able to match is money. This is where foreign investors come into play with truckloads of cash to spend on players, training facilities and new stadiums.

One could argue that it’s acceptable for this to happen at the top level of the game. Manchester City have all but proven that you indeed can buy Premiership titles and even if they do slip up at QPR this weekend, they’ve still had a pretty decent season. It’s accepted now that teams will be bought and transformed overnight to achieve any goal that their egotistical owners should want to achieve. But we need only look at Blackburn Rovers for an example of a team that have been the creators of their own downfall. In November 2010, the Indian company V H Group bought the club with a mission statement of winning the premier league once more. They sacked the then manager Sam Allardyce and brought in his replacement in Steve Kean. In the previous season, Allardyce guided a limited squad to a very respectable 10th place finish and reached the semi-final of the league cup. Blackburn Rovers have now been relegated from the Premier League and Sam Allardyce’s West Ham United are poised to replace them if they can beat Blackpool in the play-off final.

It’s a tragic situation when this attitude filters into the lower leagues, and this is exactly the situation that Cardiff City find themselves in. They’ve had a turbulent time financially since Andy Campbell propelled them into the Championship back in 2003. It’s not the first time that Cardiff City fans have had to endure the talks of a club re-brand. When Hammam bought Cardiff City for a fee thought to be in the region of £11m after leaving the crazy gang at Wimbledon, his vision was to get the whole Welsh population to support Cardiff by renaming the club The Cardiff Celts and changing the colour of the kit to red, white and green. The flamboyant owner also tried to legally change the Welsh flag to the St David’s Cross, claiming the Welsh dragon bore no significance to the country at all. It eventually ended in Cardiff City adopting the cross as its own and changing their club crest. He then took out a loan under the club’s name in 2004, only for him to walk away from the club without spending a penny and claiming it as his own as he sold it as part of the club’s assets. He left the club leaving a foul stench of betrayal when he sold it to Peter Ridsdale for £23.7m with all the money that was promised to be spent on players ending up in his pocket. This left a crippling £40m debt in the incapable hands of Ridsdale which has lead to the eventual takeover from the Malaysian money-men.

A £40m debt would be nothing to a big club, but that’s just the issue, Cardiff City are not a big club. At championship level, yes, they are up there with the best; but it’s the second tier of British football. Despite attracting names like Robbie Fowler, Jimmy Floyd Hasselbaink and Craig Bellamy, they are not a massive team. This is what makes the state of affairs all the more disastrous, because the Cardiff fans follow their team because they are Cardiff people. Ask most Cardiff fans, and they’ll tell you they’d rather play in Blue in League 2 than in red in the Premier League. They don’t want to be Manchester United, Barcelona or Real Madrid with fans from all over the world. They couldn’t care less if their fan base in Asia is growing and shirt sales around the world are at an all-time high.

There’s something really sad about listening to a radio phone in and hearing the presenter announce “Brian is a Manchester United fan, hello Brian,” only for Brian to have the harshest cockney accent you’ve ever heard. If people are aroused by being a big-club follower when they live no-where near the where the team play and no affiliation to the club whatsoever, they haven’t lived. How fun can it actually be being a Barcelona fan? If they don’t win every competition they enter, it’s a failure and if they don’t beat the majority of the sides in La Liga by four goals it’s been a poor night. They might have a local football team within 10 miles of their house, but because they don’t win things, they can’t get the following of the fickle football world.

There’s nothing quite like walking from a dingy Grange End Stand with a pie in hand dissecting a 3-0 home drubbing at the hands of Plymouth Argyle, picking out the positives of a Richard Langley, Andy Lee, Darren Purse or a Leo Fortune West et al’s performance on the train home. It’s an art that the smaller clubs have mastered and it brings with it a sense of togetherness that bonds the people of the city. For 90 minutes, the world stops. The smallest club can reduce the biggest man in the ground to tears and there’s something eerily beautiful about that. For that 90 minutes; children, teachers, bankers, factory workers, toilet cleaners, bus drivers and every other title in the ground are in unity for one reason, the football team that’s on the pitch. People may be holding onto their 42nd consecutive season ticket or coming through the turnstiles for the first time, it doesn’t matter, they’re there and their goal is a collective one; to see their team win. These people may never actually meet, but they’ll be bound for life by that football club, shirt and crest. Be it Doncaster, Scunthorpe, Aldershot, Wolves, Stoke or Motherwell; it’s the same up and down the country.

You can find yourself in a city anywhere in Britain and the aesthetics of each high street in Britain is quintessentially the same. You have the same shops, you’ll stop for a Starbucks and have a look out the window at HMV with a Topshop bag at your feet thinking about when’s best to avoid the queue at Nandos. The placelessness of Britain’s cities makes identity all the more difficult, but two things you can rely on are accents and football supporters. When you hear your accent anywhere else in the world, it’s an unwritten law that you can go over to them and talk about your football team. Football teams give people an identity and a sense of belonging which the owners of Cardiff City are in danger of putting through the shredder.

For these reasons and so many more, football should be better than this. What gives a group of Malaysians the right to come into a football club and decide to change a club’s name, the colour of their shirt, their club badge and throwing away the tradition and history that many fans hold dear to their hearts. Unfortunately, the answer is money. One of Cardiff City’s directors was quotes as saying,

“You can’t take our history away but our history won’t raise dollars in the Far East.”

It’s difficult to even comprehend that the directors of the club seem to think that the solution to their crippling debt is selling shirts in Asia. Even the worst economists in the world (like the ones that run the country) will tell you that this isn’t the answer.

If this change is permitted, not only will there be two teams called The Dragons playing in Wales, but more importantly it will give these people unlimited power as to what they can change. Should someone want to purchase the Cardiff City Stadium in the future and there was a 50,000-seater stadium available in Newport or Bridgend, would they up sticks and move out of Cardiff? If a lucrative multi-million pound offer came in, would the board decide to rename the club in a sponsorship deal? The club we once knew as Cardiff City Football Club could become the Tesco Dragons, their home matches would be played on the outskirts of Bridgend at the Cilit Bang Arena and they’d play in lime green and magenta with a tribal design because it’ll increase shirt prices in Outer Mongolia. As we do so many times, we must wait on the powers that be in hope that their brains haven’t been strangled by corporate greed and come to their senses. The wait begins.