Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.
It is a Sunday. A fact that means nothing to me as I'm working later. It's also bright. A contrast to the past couple of grey, miserable but most of all wet on an almost Noahist scale days that we've had to put up with.
I look at the mobile. It's eight something. The clocks being put back an hour overnight.It explains the good sleep I've had (yes I know) but also why the wife isn't beside me in bed. She's downstairs getting ready to watch the match.I
Yes that match.
Wales vs South Africa. Second semi-final of the Rugby world cup.
The previous day we saw England beat New Zealand. Let's make my position clear here. For the same reason I wrote about last year regarding England and the football World Cup though I support Welsh independence I'm supporting England. Simply because sport is different and you don't change your team in the same way that you would change say a brand of baked beans.
Also much as I like rugby (though never as much as football) I would not claim to be an expert or even fan knowlegeable. Indeed I hadn't watched any of the previous games before this one and only saw yesterday's game by being at the right place at the right time
But hey I'm going to pontificate anyway. It seemed to me that after the devasting first twenty or so minutes England were not really that special. The real acheivement was their ability to neutralise New Zealand. The All Blacks became the All Greys. The England coach Eddie Jones had done his homework (a man who let's not forget called Wales a "s****y" country).
Back then to the Wales game. Or rather the living room of the new house where the wife is firmly ensconced in front of the TV. I walk in. The match has started. She turns to me and asks me to go out and get two bottles of milk and a packet of cigeraettes. I can't really argue given that she's a) Welsh and b) recovering from major surgery.
Now I've learnt already that the convinience store near us is a wierd place. It's not that it charges high prices taking advantage of it's captive audience for those just seeking the odd item like me. I'd discovered last Monday that it wasn't open in the early evening and now even more remarkably it wasn't open on a Sunday morning either. For those lucky enough to be under fifty five let me tell you that such shops were open in the seventies on a sunday. That's how wierd this is.
It means I have to take the car to the next nearest store I'm aware of. Walkable but just far enough for me to think that driving is the better option to get the stuff given the wife's condition. It's a Spar solely served by an attractive young woman with dark hair, Morticia like make-up round the eyes, a metal something on the nose and a dark top. It occurs to me that she is either the local Penarthian Goth or she had come to work straight from a Halloween party the previous night and powered herself to go through the morning with energy drinks.
It's all quiet. People are watching the game obviously. Unless you're working only English people with not that much interest in rugby are probably wandering around.
Anyway the items (at last) bought I return to the house. It's approaching half time. Wales are losing but not by much. You don't need to have seen the half to know that it's a tough game to call the winner.
Anyway the items (at last) bought I return to the house. It's approaching half time. Wales are losing but not by much. I decide to let her watch the second half alone. During the time I hear one whoop of cheering but otherwise silence. When she comes out of the room I know the result. Wales had lost. Agonisingly the diffTerence being a last minute penalty.
I suspect her reaction is that of most Welsh people. Disappointed but acknowleding that the team did their best. Perhaps the best word to describe it is sanguine.
Now a quick Brexit Halloween postscript. I was working that day and have to go through the A48 to Bridgend. Normally a quiet route, especially midday on a Sunday, the early part of it was jamful of traffic.
Why? A field had become a Pumpkin field. People could drive in and pick their own Pumpkin. Personally Pumpkins are overatted as food and it's remnants stink afterwards as if skunks were in a wrestling match. But clearly it's a minority view. Not only was the field busy but people had parked on the grass verge on the road outside. This included a disability van and an unfortunate guy doing some repair work under the engine.
And this is the point. Halloween as an event has sort of creeped up and taken over from the fireworks of Guy Fawkes. And whatever the origins as an event this is clearly an American construct. If it was European you know the Leave people would have been attacking it but becuse (again as a marketing event) the origins are American they are silent. And yet the British event of Guy Fawkes has suffered for it.
The Disunited Kingdom we live in folks.
Until the next time.
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