Why Football Support Is Not A Welsh Nationalist Issue

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

At a club level Welsh football occupies a particularly freakish position. After all there is a local pyramid structure and we've chatted about these games in the past. But we have a small number of clubs who play in the English league structure primarily Cardiff City, Newport County, Swansea City and Wrexham.

But on Twitter recently I've seen a relatively common complaint. That people could slag off England at country level and yet support at club level a team playing in the English leagues. In other words if you support an English team you're not truly Welsh.

To me football support is not a Welsh Nationalist issue and it needs to be addressed.

Now I can see this argument if you were born say in Cardiff or Swansea for example. I've always felt that you should support the closest team from where you were born wherever life takes you otherwise. That's why my first love will always be West Ham United.

But despite being born in the East End I've known members of my family who pick, excuse me whilst I hold my nose, the North London Arsenal as their team. So this "glory seeking" is not necessarily a Welsh issue.

Furthermore you could argue why should you support Cardiff if Aston Villa say is the closest team from where you were born?

There is actually a simple solution. As regular readers of this blog will know whilst West Ham is first amongst equals I've always believed that watching other leagues are more interesting when you support a particular team. Thus I follow in no particular order Barcelona, Celtic, Fiorentina, Paris St Germain, Ton Pentre and Werder Bremen.

There is no reason therefore that the Welsh football fan could not pick the closest team from the Welsh football pyramid from where he/she was born as well as a team from the English league and support them both. By doing that if you don't live near Cardiff, Newport Swansea or Wrexham you will have the chance of actually going to watch a game (which will of course be cheaper). You are not betraying either team as they play in different leagues.

And by supporting a Welsh team Welsh league club football will improve. I'm not saying you'll be watching Barcelona. But different leagues are not unlike food. I like bacon, eggs and chips. But I also like Spaghetti. There is a different taste to different leagues. It's still football though.

Of course at an international level the Welsh football fan should always support Wales.

Whilst I of course (for reasons I've explained last year) will always root for England first.

Until the next time.

The Insomniac Meanderings Post : Another Storm Edition

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well today high winds and heavy rain are threatened for Wales. Not the snow that's hitting Scotland and the north of England thankfully. Still not pleasant. Guess who's going out to work in it....

Meanwhile later today Wales are playing Ireland in the final of the Six nations. A Welsh victory will mean they will get the championship and the grand slam. Wife is with "the girls" to watch the match later. Me? I'll probably be alone with Donald Trump (talking about a connection to things Stormy). But that's for another day.

Personally for many reasons I hope Wales win. One of them being another credence to my newly discovered Welsh mathematical theorem that the success of the Welsh national team is in equal and direct proportion to it's mess at club level.

West Ham incidentally are facing Huddersfield. They should win. But then again they should have beaten Cardiff City last week (still hurts).

Speaking of Cardiff the Labour council have ditched plans to create a congestion charge for cars entering the city centre. In terms of it's timing it's an arrogantly stupid idea typical of Welsh Labour. A few posts back I chatted about the cuts to the Cardiff council owned  bus service which incidentally would have probably put some people to use the car. There is also the oft criticised rail service.

Investment in public transport is the thing to do first. Then put the congestion charge in. Don't pretend to be greener than the next person by imposing a charge whilst hampering someone's chance of contributing to lowering fossil fuels.

Timing is everything. Welsh Labour in whatever guise never has it.

Until the next time.

The Other Side Of Insomnia...When You Actually Do Sleep

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

I've often in this blog written stuff too early in the morning because of insomnia. When you feel too sleepy to be awake but too awake to sleep. Well for those of you lucky enough not to be affected by this. Let me give you the other downside of this.

So as I've said previously I woke yesterday (Sunday) morning at 4:27am. During the intervening time I led my mother to the M4 before she drove off to her home in Essex.

Now it's the afternoon. Wife is off to a friend's for a natter. Daughter is with her friends watching a movie in the local multiplex.

I am alone.

Hooray!!

For that means I can watch Denmark vs Wales alone on S4C without either of them bothering me.

(And as a quick aside it's interesting to note that the Welsh Language channel shows more live football than BBC or ITV)

Anyway it's me, the TV and a cup of tea. The first half is mainly a dull affair. One side is dominant then the other and I get the feeling that what I'm watching is the football managed by chess grandmasters.

But then the Danes score. Erikson had too much space and there you had it. One-nil. Disappointing but still just a goal difference.

Summaries and ads done second half begins. Watching the game. Wishing Wales well. I notice the score.

Two-nil?

It was as if I was on anaesthetic. Seemingly all of a sudden half an hour of my life suddenly disappeared and there was just five minutes remaining of the game. It was as if my body just said enough is enough.

Two nil was how the game ended. Daughter and wife returned expecting me to be happy having watched a game without them hanging around found a disgruntled old soul instead.

And that's what insomnia does. Makes sleep catch you in the wrong time and place.

Until the next time.

English World Cup Success And Welsh Football Fans

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Until the arrival of Kuwaiti money the best title for a football book ever was Colin Shindler's autobiography Manchester United Ruined My Life. That title alone explained what it was like to be a Manchester City fan when Manchester United were seemingly winning everything and their local rivals were forever struggling.

Crucially even in the rare occasions Manchester City did well. United seemed to find a way to top it by doing something just that little bit better.

Analogies can be taken so far. But I suspect that's the position Welsh football fans feel like at the moment.

Outside of Wales the ABE (Anyone But England) reaction to England's World cup success is taken as jealously. Taken as a whole I'd argue this isn't the case. For most Welsh football fans England is the team you love to hate in the same way Manchester City fans love to beat United. Having a main "bad guy" is part of being a sports fan. If you are not in a tournament then you support the team your biggest rival is facing. Simple as. As an Englishman I get this and have no problem with it.

There is though an anger (as I've explained before) at the expectation Welsh football fans should support England. The example of the BBC Radio Wales phone-in asking "Are We All English Now". Or the Principality stadium speculating on the English team for a game (note the Principality stadium) or as I've seen this morning a Twitter ad from Budweiser offering a free drink to celebrate England's success …..in England and Wales only. This sublimation of Wales' own aspirations is something happily foisted upon this nation unlike Scotland.

And of course let's not forget Secretary State for Wales and walking doormat Alun Chucky Cairns happily letting the cross of Saint George fly over the Welsh office in London. Though let's face it who was surprised Chucky didn't argue about that?

What we have also seen is a preview of attitudes by some English people post Brexit. I've written before how Welsh people should prepare to be treated by some English Brexiteers in a condescending master serf like manner that they would not try on anyone else. This has also raised anger here.

Most of all though there is a certain sense of wistfulness that the magnificent achievement that Wales, smaller in the pool of player resources it could count upon than it's larger neighbour, was able to reach the semi finals of Euro 2016 seems now to have been a long time ago. During that time when companies tried to do England team promotions in Wales, were called out and shamefacedly withdrew them.  When Wales became Wales far more than any six nations would allow. When it acted independently from anyone else. When for a short time. It seemed free.

Now that England have reached the semi finals of the World Cup Euro 2016 seems an irrelevance to English fans now. As it should be.

So what can Wales do to return to those heady 2016 moments? Well more knowledgeable football minds than me could do a better job on that issue. Starting with my wife who says the Welsh women could start the upturn qualifying for their World Cup by beating their opponents in the last qualifying match next month.

Their opponents are England.

Better keep my mouth shut on that.

Until the next time.

I Support England In The World Cup. I Do Not Expect Welsh People To Do the Same

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well as I'm writing this England are in the quarter finals of the World Cup having beaten Colombia on penalties. Yipppee!!! The weather is still hot. England win in a penalty shoot out and you still don't think anything has changed in the world?

England now face Sweden. Who let's not forget defeated Italy to get to the World Cup in the first place. They look like a team who battles for each other. Not unlike England under Gareth Southgate. It will be a tough game I suspect.

Now I've explained in a previous post that I've no problem with supporting Welsh Independence and supporting England in the World Cup. For the simple reason that football is different. I'm not going to repeat myself here but something has happened this morning which deserves a chat. Following England's victory last night a BBC Radio Wales morning phone-in has asked the question now that England are through to the quarter finals of the World Cup "Are We All English Now"?

There is one response (well polite one anyway) to this question

Why?

Fans of Wales should not be expected to follow England. It doesn't mean that you should be condemned if you do. But what's wrong is the expectation here promulgated by the national Radio broadcaster that if England is in a competition and Wales are not then Welsh fans should like good little serfs move to the side across the bridge (yes that bridge).

Trust me also when I say that English fans will have no respect for Welsh fans who do this. And why should they? It's not their team.

Let's take the question to it's logical conclusion. If Wales are out of the six nations rugby championship and England are not should Wales rugby fans support their nearest neighbour? Or if Cardiff City are out of the FA cup but Swansea City are not should bluebird fans suddenly go all Jack? Of course not. It's a stupid, stupid, question for the BBC to broadcast. You have your own team which defines your nation's identity. It's who you are.

This though leads us into a different question.

Why did BBC Radio Wales broadcast it in the first place?

The national radio broadcaster should be representing the nation. Not discussing how it can be a lapdog of English success. Wales will not be respected as a country if it looks East in how it should think or act. For BBC Radio Wales to do this is a national disgrace from the national broadcaster.

If Welsh fans want to follow a team I'd suggest a nation that has relatively recently achieved independence in Europe. Probably the closest nation I'd suggest to Wales.

Croatia it is then.

Until the next time.

I May Be An Englishman Who Supports Welsh Independence. But I'm Still Going To Support England in The World Cup

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Last Saturday there was a Yes For Independence march held in Dumfries. And amongst the groups marching was one called English For Yes. What Twitter noticed and commented upon was a guy in that particular demonstration who wore an England football shirt. Basically the comments that were mocking him were in essence that here was a guy with split loyalties.

So let me be clear here. I'm with that guy. And the reason I'm with that guy is quite simple.

Football is different.

As anybody who supports a football team will tell you that supporting a team is not the same as supporting your local supermarket. When you ally yourself to a team you do so for life, not just for Christmas. So should you move away from that team you don't say, "well I might as well support the nearest club now". No you stick with the team that you have invested blood, sweat, tears and some money following.

After all I currently live near Cardiff City who will be playing in the Premier League next season and whilst (like Swansea and Newport) I genuinely wish them well I'm not going to suddenly start wearing a blue shirt, doing the Ayatollah and shouting "Bluebirds! Bluebirds!" all over the place. No the one time I intend to go to the City Stadium is to watch (quietly, I live nearby!) West ham beating them.

And that is equally the same nationally. I've supported England all my life and nothing changes now. I believe that Wales should be an independent nation and have no problem proclaiming my support for that. But as any fan will tell you the first rule of sports fandom is that once you have committed to a team that's it. You change your allegiance then you've broken the law.....it's a fact.

In fact my problem for this World Cup is going to be quite different. Normally due to my family background I would support England until they get knocked out after which I'd follow Italy. But this time Italy failed to qualify for the tournament in the first place.

Now that is a problem.

Until the next time.

The Latest Insomniac Awake Too Early Sunday Morning Rambling Post

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well again I'm awake too early. At time of writing it's seven minutes past five, but I've been awake half an hour earlier than that. Yet again insomnia rules.

Outside it's bright. It's also Sunday. I'm also working. Unbothered by that. Whatever Sunday is for me it's not a day of rest.

Late last night something rare was happening. There was a live Wales Rugby match on the television. Wales vs South Africa but held in America for whatever reason.  Wife was (for the late hour) surprisingly awake (I'd recorded the game for her). I, eventually after a microwave meal of LIDL's spaghetti with added grated cheese was not by the fact I nodded off well before the end.

First Minister Carwyn Jones tweeted yesterday that he was consulting with the British embassy in America concerning the Trump steel tariffs which could have a major effect on the steel plant in Port Talbot. Originally I'd assumed he'd flown there specially but could not understands why he was speaking to the embassy in a way that suggested top level discussions when he wasn't speaking to anyone in the American administration. Only later did the penny drop (thanks to Twitter, @ceribethlehem to be precise) that he was there because of the rugby game. Reality forcing him to put South Walian families on his list of things to do. You cannot help but think that yet again with regard to the Tata steelworks the First Minister has been caught on the hop without having any preparation for this scenario (which surprising with regard to it's timing was not unforeseen)

If anything did happen to the Port Talbot steelworks (and let's hope it doesn't) you know that Carwyn Jones is going to give interviews blaming Trump. And whilst that would be true he cannot escape yet again the charge that he was unprepared for events.

Well reality bites doesn't it your First Ministership? Perhaps whilst you are there in the fag end of your uninspiring leadership you can put a word in for Bridgend Ford as well? You representing Bridgend in the Assembly and all that? It would make (as I've said before in this blog) a change to do something Bridgend centric.

The birds are beginning to sing. Why do birds sing? Who knows? Conjoined of course with the question Why do fools fall in love?

Sun is very much coming out now. But I can also see the moon. I'm fifty four and those things still get to me. That and why people vote Conservative.

Six O'clock: Time for Breakfast.

Quasi Continental

I must admit that for the past few years my breakfast choice has gone continental with the croissants (though full disclosure here this is from Lidl's - with added jam - Oh I've mentioned them twice. Well don't be surprised. Reckon Lidl's or Aldi will be the supermarket of choice after Brexit). Mind you there's no orange juice (ran out) and the the default mechanism hot drink wise at home for most people this side of the channel is still tea.

If croissants are not available I go for porridge (with added jam) instead. Only in emergencies now do I go for throwing milk at a bowl filled with [insert cereal here]. Perhaps it's an age thing. I don't honestly know.

There's a fly I notice in the room. The windows are for the moment closed but the fly's still there. Moving in that sort of jagged jolted movements they do. Can't really go for it for the moment until it finds itself clinging to a wall....then I'll strike.....and probably miss.

There's a picture I've seen on Twitter about a rally for Scottish Independence in Dumfries. Amongst a group of people with the Banner English Scots for Yes. There's a guy with an England football shirt.

As I've explained before people should not be surprised by this. You may believe as I do that Wales should be independent from England for various reasons but let's just start with one (it's a country in it's own right) but football is different. If you're a football fan you'd understand.

The fly was by the table....missed.

Ah well.

Until the next time.

Pen(arth) State

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

It's a Saturday. But sporting wise not a normal Saturday. For due to the international break there's not that many club football games being played. Instead football focus has been on the World Cup qualifying games. The previous night England beat Malta in a match which until the final few minutes was so dull it almost cure my insomnia. Later Wales were facing Austria. But for that afternoon rugby entered my thoughts. The friendlies were now over.

The season had begun.

A quick check revealed that the closest game being played to me was in Penarth RFC who were playing Aberdare at 2:30 in the very precise WRU National League Division 2 East Central. I decided to leave where we're currently renting an hour earlier. A friend of the wife's was visiting.

"Oh you're seeing the Pens!"

I really had no idea what this woman was talking about. Still bid them my goodbyes and off I went.

It wasn't that far away. Parked nearby. Only when entering the ground I realised I'd forgotten to bring a book with me to read during the interval. Now that was irritating.

So paid my fee and walked along the path. On the pitch both teams were training.




What was clear was that the management of either side were blessed with never needing a microphone. In terms of Aberdare that meant pre watershed language. Now I've never understood this. I get angry management during a game and of course at the end. But the purpose of pre game anger management has passed me by.

The Penarth voices weren't pre watershed but just as loud.

"Latch onto him!" came the cry as one guy seemed to avoid his team mates.

The Snakes (Aberdare) in training

The club has a stand if you want to go and watch the game there (personally I preferred to spectate using the traditional "leaning on a fence" method.

And the crowd. Well obviously not the attendance for a top tier Welsh Club in the Pro 14. However far more than the "five men and a dog" audience that this tier of rugby was described to me earlier this week. There were many men....and dogs.....and women....and children.

As an area Penarth has a reputation for being relatively affluent and although I think the reality is a little more complex than that it's certainly true that parts of it are well off. I'm saying all of this because if you're after symbolism I'll give you this.

Now you might notice the tanned object in the centre of the photo near the pitch.......that was a champagne cork.

They also have bistro rugby spectating areas.

Took this during half time. Whilst the match was on it was full

All very sophisticated. Less so when the people had to hurriedly move to avoid the overkicked ball coming their way.

So the match began.



In the early stages the home side piled on the pressure.



"Go Pens!" came the shout. Ah I get it now. Pens is short for Penarth. Sometimes can be slow on the uptake.

I noticed a Penarthian player with a ponytail. He threw himself to every tackle, ran for every ball as if to say judge me on what I do not on my hairstyle. Another Penarth player sidelined until the second half was a stocky man with a large black beard. Imagine son of Santa playing before going for a stint as a Cardiff nightclub bouncer and an accurate picture would emerge. The Penarth team clearly consisted of men who were if nothing else prepared to battle for their team.

But the first try was Aberdare's. An interception roughly at the half way line, a race to the goal, a pass and a try. It was impressive it has to be said. Perhaps swearing at the players does help.

My attention was distracted for a moment from the game. When I turned back a young man was on the floor. The physio was attending to his leg. The man's face was in his hands. He was in pain. Eventually a stretcher had to be brought out. Thankfully later on he was driven by private car to the hospital (the fact it wasn't by ambulance gave you some cause for hope).

The above lasted for quite a while and it did make me think. For young men being in a rugby team gives them a bit of kudos with their peers, allows them to dream of a tomorrow playing for Cymru in a red shirt and probably makes it easier to impress women. The downside to that though is that probably sooner than most other men of their age they realise that they're not invincible.....that pain hurts.

The match restarts. Suddenly I feel a scrabbling in my leg. It turns out to be a black poodle. Regular readers will know my phobia to dogs. The owner picks the mutt up.

"Sorry" she says and then goes on to say that the poodle was after the legs of the man next to me. What am I supposed to say after that? Flattered?

During a scrum Penarth score with the resultant try. Soon afterwards a penalty is awarded to the Pens (I'm with the lingo now) and the half is finished at 10-8 to the home team.....which makes me think I've missed something along the way.....I'm blaming the dog.



So the break and I'm hungry. I buy a sausage roll not realising that it's spicy. This means that I need to get a coke from the bar. So queue dutifully. second half begins and whilst waiting Aberdare score.

Now I didn't see that try. But from the other tries Aberdare scored in the half it probably involved someone breaking through the Penarth defence and either running through or passing to a team mate to rack up the points. As the first half was close the second was just the snakes steamrollering of the opposition.





It finished 10-39. Though knew they was beaten did not realise until the announcer gave out the score that Penarth did not add a single point to their total in the second half. Aberdare were just that dominant. Not so much snakes on a train as snakes on a roll.

And this is what rugby should be. Local teams supported by local fans plus the odd stray English man wandering in.

Until the next time,

A Nothing Day. Involving A Belated Sausage and Chips, A Harry Potter Mystery And My Women's Football Dilemma

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

It's Tuesday evening I have a plan for yesterday. Wasn't going to be at work so suggested waking my daughter up early and we'd go out and visit somewhere.

"No" says my daughter. Who as a teenager craves the late nights and uninterrupted sleep that the summer holidays provides. And as a teenager no longer follows the rulings of Dad as sacred pronouncements on high but as the start of a debate.

"No" says my wife. For reasons I don't understand.

So I'm outvoted. Also I'm out of ideas as what to what to do when she does decide to wake up. The record so far for this summer holiday has been 11:30.

Come the early morning I wait. Nothing I can do. So watch a bit of TV. Can't do any housework as don't want to disturb her. That's my excuse anyway.

The morning moves to 10am. It's late enough. Going to have a bath. The podcast listened to whilst having a soak is The Football Ramble which I've only just discovered. Tend to go through a podcast from the very beginning. So if I tell you that Roy Hodgson is Fulham manager as they embark on a Europa League campaign and one of the presenters suggests he should be England manager tells you how old it is and how things have changed now.

It's 10:30. Daughter has at last emerged from slumber and asks what's for breakfast. Respond by saying that when I'm out of the bath will call an ambulance as obviously she's unable to walk downstairs and pour milk onto cereal. A teenage laugh, as if to say dad's trying to be funny. But the hint is taken and she goes downstairs.

The phone rings. Daughter answers it. I can tell from the conversation that it's my wife.

"Dad" She asks "What's for lunch?"

Lunch? She's only just started having breakfast and she's talking about lunch?

However I've an answer.

"Sausage and chips".

Last week I'd refused to get her sausage and chips from the chippy because I'd understood that she couldn't have chips because of her newly installed braces. Apparently though this was just for the first few weeks. I'd misunderstood. This was to make things up.

This is met with approval. Still got it.

As the day goes on it appears that she has planned this day by finishing off watching the Harry Potter movies. This disappointed her mother who wanted to watch it with her but I was happy enough she was doing it. After all I wasn't interested. However a mini disaster occurred. One of the discs turned out not to be Harry Potter but the Tom Hanks animated film The Polar Express. A movie seen before when she was younger and I had to feign interest. For the record, though obviously I'm not it's target audience, it was dull.

So where was this missing film? The DVDs hadn't been moved until fairly recently when this Potter viewathon started. It wasn't clear what had happened. I suggested it had disappeared into thin air....like magic. That didn't go down well.

Daughter just ignored the existence of the missing movie and proceeded to watch the rest. So every time I came into the living room during the afternoon I saw hairy wizards.big and hairy wizards,bald wizards,normal looking wizards, child wizards, female wizards, matriarch wizards and Harry Potter and the other two (told you I wasn't interested) turning bigger and older. Was happy enough. That's six less DVDs to fall asleep in front of the TV to.

No idea what to do today (Thursday) but had an idea for Friday evening.Wales women's B team have a friendly against the Republic of Ireland at Rodney Parade in Newport. Had fancied the idea of going with daughter. She however is not interested ("It's Wales.It's women playing" Neither worked.) as she's hoping to arrange something with her friends.

I quite fancy going myself (I'm working Saturday) but the thing that's putting me off is that if people see me, lone man watching a female  football game, they will put two and two together and make x rated. Daughter would have shielded me from that. I know I could tell them the truth and say I'm just like watching football including the women's game. But suspect no one will believe me.

Of course female fans have had this problem as well with regard to male games and for longer. But with the rise of the women's football I reckon I'm not the only man bothered by this. Real equality you might think.

Until the next time

The Football Game Where The Wife Is More Emotional Than Me

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well it's Wednesday evening in Wales and it's the evening of that game. Two ground shaking events happen in world football history. Firstly Wales are in the semi final of a major tournament and secondly my wife and I are in the living room watching a football match together.

She doesn't watch football normally. She rarely watches any sport except when the Welsh national rugby team plays. She will moan when the DVR is full of games from leagues from other nations.But this is of course different.

Every game Wales has played has been seen by her. Nothing has been missed because of work. The one other time we could have watched a game together was the last set of matches in the group stage where I opted to watch England Slovakia on the laptop whilst she watched her countrymen face Russia. Needless to say she had the better deal Wales winning 3-1 whilst the English could only manage a 0-0 draw (which in hindsight was a predictor of the disaster to come against Iceland).

Not that she's completely knowledgeable. She queried during the Russia game why it hadn't finished. I explained that eighty minutes was for Rugby.

It does not matter. She has been caught up in the fervour. She is Welsh and Wales are in the semi final.

So we are in the living room together. Through the TV preamble. Watching the screen shoehorned with retired Welsh football players in the panel with at least one of them (Ryan Giggs) you knew was only brought in because of his team's success. Then Lee Dixon/Roy Keane in a patronising manner pretended to be Welsh for the evening. But you knew their heart wasn't in it.

The obligatory interview with Gareth Bale, a piece on the tragedy of Gary Speed, more waffling from the ex pros...and then the game.

Before it started we were reminded again the Welsh had the best fans in Euro 2016 and the non rugby world learnt for the first time that mae hen wlad fy nhadau is the best anthem as well. You don't need to understand it, you don't have to speak Welsh but wherever you came from it stirs the soul.

So to the match. The first half was to be honest, relatively dull. They and their opponents, the undeserving but lucky Portugal seemed to be taking the cautious approach. The wife shouts at Ronaldo as he claims a penalty. She doesn't like him. Quite perceptive that way.

The half end without a goal. There was still hope.

But come the second half came two goals in quick succession for Portugal. The last of which scored by that man Ronaldo. A man so in love with himself that if you remember the Champions League final and the Athletico Madrid player who ran to kiss his blonde girlfriend after he scored, well I wouldn't have been surprised that had Ronaldo scored he would have run to the nearest mirror to perform the same act.

It was unfortunately the sort of game that you knew was not going to change afterwards.

"Looks like Wales missed Ramsey" (Aaron Ramsey - suspended from this game) said my wife....my wife ? It was though true.

And so it finished 2-0 to Wales. The wife went off to bed.I was going to make myself a cup of tea. As she went up the stairs I pointed out one thing to her that made a disappointed woman smile.

Wales came third in Euro 2016.

Wales came third!!

Until the next time.

In Which I Talk To Two Polish Men And A Book Is Finished

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well my job, not fatcat wages, not glamorous and I'm not going to reveal it today. But it's a job. A job that I believe I've shown that I'm willing to do almost anything I can to help out. After all the way I believe things are going at the moment for Britain there will be areas of the "United Kingdom" (not so United anymore) that will become employment blackspots because of BREXIT.

(And as a quick aside it's irritating that those who wanted to leave call themselves "Brexiteers", believing themselves to be as swashbuckling as The Three Musketeers. Written as we all know by a French author.)

But anyway had to do the early shift at work this weekend which is the reason why I haven't been posting for a while. As going to bed and waking up early does leave a short term jet laggy effect on you when you return home. You find there is a moment after you've had your late lunch where you just nod off in front of the TV. There was no intention to. You just didn't have control.

So on Saturday at work I noticed two men, who seemed to be brothers, speaking in an East European accent. I thought I'd recognised the language and asked whether they were Polish.

They looked concerned. "Why are you asking?" questioned the older one.

"Well I just thought you were unlucky on Thursday".

Thursday : Poland lose out to Portugal on penalties after extra time and are knocked out of Euro 2016. Let me say now if there is one team I don't want to win the tournament it's Portugal. They just haven't done anything that makes them worthy champions.

Their faces brighten. Suddenly I realise that when asking whether they were Polish they'd expected xenophobic abuse. Instead I'm talking football.

This is what our society has started to become post Brexit.  

Let me stress again that I'm not saying that the bulk of people who voted leave are racists. But what it has done is to unleash a racism on Britain to an extent that I cannot recall ever happening before. So that an innocent question about a person's nationality invokes what could only be best described as fear.

But not for long.

"Yes Yes" the older man said. "And now I want Wales to win".

Friday: Wales beat Belgium 3-1. It was a match I saw the first half live and a recording of the second half early (4:30am!) Saturday morning. An astonishing match. That Wales won did not surprise me. That they beat the second ranked team in the world 3-1 did.

And of the three teams I wanted to do well it's Wales who are in the semi finals. Truly,truly astonishing. Well deserved mind you.

"I have lived in Wales for twelve years. Poland first Wales second".

He was talking about football. Couldn't argue with that. I feel the same way. You may live in a different country and be respectful of it and indeed in my case wish it to be independent but the football team you support is not the same as changing supermarket.

Both men extended their hands to me which I shook. "Your team did very well. I hope they beat Portugal now".

I didn't have the heart to tell him that I was born in England (aka Football laughing stock).

Then they left. You know it's made me want to learn Polish even more now.

I've finished the biography of Thierry Henry by Phillippe Auclair. Personally my view of it reminded me about my view of Paris in that it was a slight disappointment. Not I stress that the French capital is a bad place. Far from it. But I'd been seduced by its image on books,films and TV. In reality although there were some obviously stunning sights and monuments it was also more like London than I'd expected (I will make the caveat that obviously I didn't see all of Paris - mainly the "touristy" bits).

The point is that for me this book, written by a French Arsenal supporting football journalist living in Britain, promised more than I felt it delivered.

It's not bad and does have high points (such as Henry's famous handball incident against the Republic of Ireland and the parts about his early career). Like the Paris I saw though it's high landmarks do not hide that for the most part it's not all that different to other similar books.

I'll go to Porthcawl library tomorrow to find out what my next football book will be.

Until the next time.

In Which Amongst The Gloom There's Always Football And Why Breaking In a New Shirt Reminds Me To Make a Belated Apology To Denmark

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

So I wake up at 6:09am in the morning and as I turn the TV on I discover the beginnings of a Labour party coup where senior figures start to turn on their leader and resign from their opposition posts. An incompetently handled Labour coup from people who rather start a civil war than try to deal with the disunited kingdom that the referendum has produced. And you wonder why as an Englishman decided to join Plaid Cymru.

But anyway. There's always the football. Let's forget about the Euro referendum and watch Euro 2016 instead......oh.

A quick note about England's match tomorrow against Iceland. The most ironic thing about that game is that even if the English fans acted like choirboys Europe will still want them beaten by Iceland even though it's not in the EU. Football can throw things like that up sometimes.

Anyway there were three matches to watch and was looking forward to doing this marathon having missed yesterday's games and knowing I'd miss tomorrow's ones because of work.

First turned out to be Republic of  Ireland vs France. A match that apparently the Observer Book of cliches was acting as co-commentator on ITV. The commentary had even more bizarre moments. After he took a free kick we were informed that Pogba "has powerful thighs". For a moment there I thought I was watching a different sort of channel. The sort which broadcasts after midnight and needs a pin number to watch it......or so I'm told.

It went surreal. Discussing the Irish (and West Ham reserve) goalkeeper the commentary said "Darren Randolph's left hand upright"......whatever that means.

The Republic scored first, with a penalty from a foul that was so obvious no French player argued with the referee.

Unfortunately for the Irish in the second  half France reacted with two quick goals and a sending off . A French victory then. And you know what? I wanted France to win. Because we all know that had they lost the Daily Mail and definitely The Sun would have used the headline FREXIT.

So to the next game Germany Slovakia. This was the only game where I had a football shirt in my collection to wear for the first time. It was this.

Germany

As you know by now I'm not the sort of collector that gets something and hides it away forever more. If I collected toy trains they wouldn't be kept in a box. They'd be used as nature and Mr Hornby intended. So as I had a shirt for Germany wear it I did. Of course this was the reason why they beat Slovakia 3-0 in a match that seemed more of a training session than a competitive game. They don't have to thank me.

The final match was Belgium Hungary. Belgium won 4-0 but they only really were dominant in the latter stages of the second half. They now face Wales as favourites. Which I think for Wales is a good thing as the hopes of a nation but not the pressure of expectation will be on them.

One more thing. Hungary had a player called Pinter. Who I assumed played cultured football and was the caretaker of their defence. Hope there wasn't a drama when he got substituted.

Wearing the shirt of a team in my collection has never seemed to effect the performance of the team in question. With one exception. That of Denmark.

I had bought this shirt in I think 2008 for £10. Promptly it was put onto a hanger and then to the wardrobe never to see the light of day again.......until 2010.

I rather like this shirt. It's simple,unfussy and has the colours of the Danish flag on it. You don't get the feeling that it has been given to a designer who was on drugs the night before.

Denmark

Anyway as I said we fast forward to 2010. It's the World Cup in South Africa. The last matches are being held in group stage of the tournament. Denmark are facing Japan. For the first time since it was bought it there's a logical opportunity for wearing the shirt and that's what was done.

Well, not wishing to appear pompous and patronising let me say that I have of course seen Asian teams beat European sides before and after this particular game. But it was the first match that I'd ever seen where the Asian side dominated almost from start to finish. Japan won by three goals to one, The Danish goal being a a late penalty scored I think by John Arne Thomasson.

So clearly the reason for this defeat was that I, whose closeness to Denmark recently was when we visited Legoland in Windsor a few years back wore the shirt. Somehow I'd cursed them. So the shirt wasn't worn again.....until last year.

Denmark were playing Portugal in a qualifying game for Euro 2016. As I recall both sides needed a win to be assured of coming to France. It was a dull game it has to be said. Portugal did not dominate the Danes in the way that Japan had all those years earlier. Yet the curse came back to haunt me again. For although Denmark only lost by one goal to nil, that goal at no stage in the play was touched by Ronaldo. A Portuguese goal where Ronaldo's not involved? Surely not? But that is what happened and obviously I was responsible.

So people of Denmark I'm sorry. I'll try not to do it again. Honest.

Until the next time.

My Day With Marian

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Before I chat about Saturday one quick postcript about yesterday's post. As I explained I'm not going to start learning Polish until Monday as it will be the first day I will have time to myself. Having said that this (Saturday) morning I stumbled on a Polish series on the foreign language on demand service of Channel 4.

The show is called The Border. It's about Polish border guards as they stop criminal gangs trying to bring illegal immigrants entering their country, That you must think is ironic in so many levels.

Saturday was a day I had to go to work in the afternoon/evening shift. Again I've been unlucky in the sense that for this tranche of games in Euro 2016 (Saturday,Sunday, Monday) the only day I'm not working is Sunday. Not only that but the teams I want to do well.England. Italy and Wales are/were not playing on that day. If there are such things as football gods they're mocking me right now.

Wales were playing to reach the quarter finals of the tournament against Northern Ireland. Earlier in the morning national rugby team had faced New Zealand. The rugby and the football teams were playing on the same day but again it was the football team that had most of the attention, indeed even more so than the beginning of the month as there was a chance of going into the quarter finals. Really unless the Welsh Rugby Union pulls its socks up the slow decline of the sport here will seep into the national game. Something no one would have believed possible even five years ago.

Whatever my failings as a husband in the DIY department I come into my own in being able to grab an internet stream of sporting occasions to watch from around the world and at 8:30am had got the rugby game ready for my wife to watch. Must admit from time to time I peaked at the laptop and it was pretty awful for the team in red. Seen from my admittedly unknowledgeable eyes it moved from men vs men to men vs boys to men vs infants. Even she could not watch it to the end. It was like having arsenic through your eyes.

So anyway to work. In the two previous games where I've been working whilst Wales have been playing the days were less busy but busier than I had expected. This time though it would be almost dead. Good thing I'd brought a book with me. Of the four on the go at the moment today it would be The Other Side Of The Story by Marian Keyes.

It would have been a long day had this book been dull. Thankfully the skills she has that I'd remembered from Sushi For Beginners were also on show here. The ability to be able to say deep things but in a humorous way, believable female characters that are not dependent on men but not at war with them either, living lives that you can as a reader get involved in.

I'd read 361 pages that day. In a lot of books that would have been occasion for a pat on the back and a look at the great unread to see what's next to go for. But not with a Marian Keyes book oh no. About two thirds of the way through.

As I've mentioned before. I believe she's an underrated writer who has lost male readers who would genuinely appreciate what she writes about if it wasn't for being put off by the chick lit covers of her books. Still this male reader was grateful that what could have been a dull working day was alleviated by this novel and after yesterday when a majority of a disunited kingdom voted to bring us into the dark ages she raised a smile to my face.

For that alone. Thankyou Marian Keyes.

Until the next time.

On Poetry And Football

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well I've finished (presumably thanks to my wait in the Bar and Grill on Sunday) Poetry Of The Thirties edited by Robin Skelton. It was the first poetry book I'd read for decades and I had forgotten that you have to read these books slooowly so that every word and meaning is captured. In the beginning there was a great deal of rereading so that there was a better chance of understanding what was being written.

Even so most of the poetry made me just mentally shrug my shoulders. As if I was saying, "is that all there is"? The vast majority of verse in this book aroused me to a state of depressed boredom.

There were, of course exceptions. John Betjeman reminded me why I liked him all those years ago. And if someone offered me a volume of the poetry of Lewis MacNeice I wouldn't be sniffy about it. On the other hand I really,really didn't like W H Auden.

And then there was Dylan Thomas. I don't want to read another Dylan Thomas poem again. I want to listen to them. He was the only poet where that thought occurred to me.

The next "car book" is this.

Clive James - Glued to the Box

This is the third volume of his TV critism between 1979 -1982. Should be fun.

So to the evening's football. It was the first opportunity since the Euro 2016 tournament began that I had the opportunity to wear this.

England

The wife watched the Wales game against Russia whilst I watched England Slovakia. Clearly she had the better time than I did with the dragons winning 3-0 and being top of their group. Although she did ask after eighty minutes why the game hadn't finished. I explained that it was football.....not rugby.Still genuinely was pleased for Wales. I've said before that in my view football was the bigger club sport here and if they continue to do well then that might be the case at a national level as well. And the Welsh Rugby Union would only have themselves to blame.

For me despite the ITV "Brexit" commentary - everything England did was good against weak Slovakia - England were disappointing. Slovakia just dug in, having obviously checked the durability of their Puma football shirts first.

Their goalkeeper seemed to follow the lead of his Swiss counterpart yesterday. Dressed luminously suggesting he too would be cycling back to his base afterwards.

But the commentary. "England fans are staying with their team" was one gem. What did he expect them to do? Suddenly support Austria? We also know the power of words. Slovakia were like "a boxer on the ropes" according to Glenn Hoddle. Had that been England then words like "disciplined" or "dogged" would have be used.

Will always believe....but was not encouraged.

Until the next time.

People Of Laleston: The Dirty,Smelly Ripped Jeaned Man Who Bought Two Books At Your Fete Was Me...Sorry

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

So I wake up early in the morning. My day is mapped out. Mow that jungle outside,go to the undercover tip that is Thygeston, watch three matches from Euro 2016. Few days are so easily planned.

The first thing to do though  is to get an internet stream ready so that the wife can watch the second rugby test between New Zealand and Wales. At the same time she wanted the television left on so she'd see the return of the British astronaut Tim Peake from that space station doing whatever it is astronauts do to justify not giving it to the poor in the world.

My wife: Woman,Welsh, Multitasker.

So whilst she does this I, being a man concentrate on just one task being the grass. Interrupted just the once when my daughter comes out shouting "It's amazin".

I look confused.

"Tim Peake's landed".

All that gets from me is a shrug. Partly for the reason sarcastically given above, but also because I don't understand all the media attention for the second Briton in space. Not as if he's gone to Mars. Anyway Brexit or no Brexit it's going to be a long time before another UK citizen gets up there again so am not interested.

Otherwise the mowing is done. It takes a while but it's done. Less obstacles now except that my wife decided to put the washing out hence I had to avoid sheets, towels and assorted garments hitting my face. Being mugged by lemony freshness. Still it's done.

Black bags full of garden was placed into the mighty Kia and off I went to Thygeston. 12:30. Key time was 2pm as that's when the first match, Belgium v Republic of Ireland started.

Now on the short journey to the tip I have to pass the village of Laleston. A pleasant affluent place though not immune from austerity. It's pub being boarded up for years now. It's most prominent landmark is the local church...which today had a fete. I've been there before and knew there would be a book stall. So the decision was made. Do the tip and when finished make a quick trip to the church.

It was one o'clock. One hour to football.

So remember I'd just finished mowing the grass and had been to the tip.I was at that moment at my most desirable. My hair felt it had a few South Walian insects in it. Was dirty and smelling of dead garden. Wearing a yellow faded Pittsburgh Steeler T shirt decorated with the evergreen grass of Bridgend. Garden jeans. in the fashionably ripped style borne of the unfashionableness of age. Sure I exuded the pinnacle of male sexuality. I would have to repel any advances. I'm married and anyway there were three football matches to watch.

This was the sight the middle aged woman behind the bookstall beheld as I approached the book stall. She would just have to control herself.

"How much are the books?" I asked.

"Three paperbacks for a £1 or two hardbacks for a pound" came the response.

Looking at what was available knew I was going to be difficult, Because there were only two books I wanted to buy.Of course one of them was a hardback and the other was a paperback. Enquring of the price brought about a discussion between the middle aged woman and her friend and her friend. What the word is for a group of such ladies I don't know.

Eventually a price of 80p was agreed upon. Fine.  A pound was produced.

"Sorry" she said in an apologetic tone that only women in a church environment can muster "we don't have any change."

Yeah right.

But I didn't have the time or the inclination to argue so gave the pound and walked away.

The two books I bought were as follows:

J B Priestley - Time and the Conways and Other Plays

This is in the light green spined Penguin Twentieth Century Classics series. One of the plays is An Inspector Calls/ I remember once many years ago in East London being alone at home on a Friday afternoon being taken by radio adaptation of it. And when I mean taken I mean stopping whatever I was doing in the kitchen and just sitting down to listen to it. That's the power it had.

The other book, an absolute brick of a hardback was:

Well it speaks for itself

The only reason why I bought this book was only the day before I'd watched an interview he gave at the Hay festival promoting the third volume. This of course is the first.

So these two books for a pound. Bargain. Or as they say in Cardiff Barrgain, I mentioned this detour and purchases to the wife on my return. Let's say she was unimpressed.

Half past one: A quick wash of body and hair, so that any insects were evicted then football took over the rest of the day.

Belgium beat Republic of Ireland 3-0. With Lukaku scoring two. Causing me to think that there are two Lukaku's playing alternate games. One rubbish and the other world class. Which all means I don't fancy their chances against Sweden.

Iceland drew with Hungary 1-1. Good , They both have been the successful underdogs so far. Fingers crossed.

Finally the red swarm of Portugal drew with Austria 0-0. Portugal did everything but score. That included Ronaldo hitting the post from a penalty, My theory is simple. Portugal have been cursed by an old gypsy woman.

Austria were a dull team. A good thing. After all history has taught us we should always be wary of lively Austrians.

So again to the Lalestonians wherever you are now apologies for my appearence

Until the next time,

When Suddenly It Does Not Matter

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

So it's Thursday afternoon and I'm at work. Resigned to not watching or listening to the game, THAT game. England vs Wales.

Two pm and I'm expecting to do hardly anything for the next two hours. Have a small bottle of mineral water and just read a book. Today that book being the 1975 autobiography of Muhammad Ali, The Greatest.

The music coming out is from the speakers is a pop music station. So it has the effect of mugging my ears. There is news though. I catch bits but not of what I expected. The match has gone down the pecking order. The top story is that a Member of Parliament has been attacked.

From those bits  the MP is in hospital. You assume recovering. I carry on working. The music for those much younger than me returns.

Work in the next two hours turns out to be less busy than normal but busier than I had expected. Due I suspect to the stupid 2pm start time.

The Muhammad Ali book surprised me by beginning with a defeat. The time in April 1973 when he lost to Ken Norton. I remember the day well. Was a page boy at a wedding as I was a cousin to the bride that I've not spoken to in years (nothing to do with moving to Wales - everything to do with family disputes). It was at the subsequent wedding reception watching TV with the adults sometime between ten and midnight. Being awake at midnight for a nine year old is exciting anytime but I was awake watching an Ali fight. No school the next day. Can life get any better than this?

And yet he lost. And to Ken who? A defeat in sports can be crushing when you're a young fan, not infected by worldly cynicism.

(Incidentally that wasn't the only sporting event I watched at that reception. Earlier, much earlier, I'd seen the Grand National won by Red Rum. For me personally it's memorable because it's the only horse race that I can tell you who came second. It was a horse called Crisp. The reason why I remember it is that in the final stages it had such a massive lead over Red Rum you could have started a small holding with the gap. Yet catch up Red Rum did. Didn't understand it then, still don't now).

The other point, thinking about this now, is that with all the talk of violence on the television screens affecting children no one ever made this point about boxing. The idea of watching men (and at that time it was men) battering themselves was family entertainment at that time.

Anyway the book is a page turner. I'm gripped. Will chat properly once I've finished.

At a quarter past three I'm chatting to a woman. She tells me it's 1-1. Wales scored first then "the English" equalised. Obviously not a moment to tell her I'm English.

Sometime after quarter to three I hear two men chatting. "last minute winner........Sturridge". Then with diplomacy that makes English football fans loved the world over they high five. Later I learn they're off to Nottingham.That doesn't surprise me.

So England win but only just. Both teams still have a good chance of qualifying into the next round. Which is fine by me.

Then I hear the news properly.

The MP, Jo Cox, was not just attacked but was shot and stabbed in Birstall near the library. Worst than that at five o'clock it's announced that she has died.

A horrifying event then in a small town in the most domestic of settings in broad daylight.

And I when I learn much later details of her life on TV, a loving family life, a political career, her charity work you get the sense of a life as an unfinished novel. Because of her sudden death we have been robbed of an ending that would have been much different. I suspect that's the case for those who lost their lives in Orlando as well.

So football is important. Reading is important. But most of all...most of all....choose life.

Until the next time.

In Which A Book Leads Me To Why Being A Teetotal Atheist Doesn't Help My Social Life, Welsh Rugby At Its Lowest And My Hatred Of Dr Pepper

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well Euro 2016 has taken a break for the next few days. The last couple of games were great with Hungary beating Austria and Iceland drawing with Ronaldugal. Underdogs doing well. That's what I want to see.

As you can guess by now I'm back at work. And I'll be at work today for THAT game. Must admit glad to be missing that one and that work will distract me. That said, not sure will be feeling the same way when it actually happens.

Well have finished Sundog by Jim Harrison. As you may know I try my best not to talk about the plot of the books I read,especially fiction, as not to spoil anything for the reader. But this is a book not easy to describe if I did tell you.

Having read my first ever book by this author I'm clearly now a world renowned expert and was trying to think of a perfect description of this novel, which I liked. The first thing that came to my mind that he was an acquired taste. That though suggested snobbery. As if to say I can reach literary Nirvana but you just have to settle for James Patterson (plus 1 other) but I'm that type of guy. It's that type of person who says they can appreciate a particular wine from a remote region in Bolivia that you can only reach by Llama.

That though was quickly discarded.....what do I know about wine? I don't drink.

Rather like my position on poetry my attitude to alcohol is based on a very mundane reason. Not for me any moral/religious issue. And I don't mind moderately letting myself go. No. it's quite simply that from beer to brandy,wine to whiskey I just don't like the taste.

I get it from my mother. She didn't drink for exactly the same reason although she does like to put vino in her minestrone soup which would make me remark that she liked being drunk in her food (untrue but it raises a smile).

Though not being the most sociable of people I do know that if I would've made many more friends had I been more partial to drink. I could have spent my Saturdays slumped on a wall telling some stranger I really loved them.

I remember once going to a pub in Cardiff watching a (then) five nations rugby game in the late nineties with my wife (then girlfriend) her brother his partner and their friends. Wales was playing ...somebody else ...but not England and it was as I remember an unimportant game in terms of the championship. Wales I seem to remember were at their lowest ebb. It seemed to have been personified by the fact that their poster boy was a man called Arwel Thomas. Small, with an angelic innocent face he was always looked like a man who joined the game after a spell of choir practice. All very laudable of  course, but when linked with rugby just seemed out of place.

As I recall Welsh rugby was not impressive at that time. The one exception being Llanelli, (not the Scarlets you understand. This was before WRU decide that teams should go all NFL). If you listen to English coaches and players interviewed you'll hear a tone about that team which you wouldn't hear if they spoke of any other aspect of Welsh rugby at that time. That tone was one of respect.

Anyway back to the pub. I don't remember the result and wish drink was the cause. All I remember was my future brother in law prending to take off his trousers and everybody having a good time...except me.

The year after the group (including me) went to a Wales / Ireland game (behind the posts too far away to appreciate anything). Afterwards at a pub I was approached by a tall bearded irishman who saw me nursing a glass of orange juice and said in a friendly tone. "Why don't you just get pissed?". And of course he was right. I was at the wrong place and definitely at the wrong time.

Being an athiest the social circle for the teetotal (religion) is also out of my reach.....ah well.

Until recently I would drink any soft drink going instead. The one exception was Doctor Pepper which my tastebuds would react to as if it had tasted bleach. Their advertising slogan seemed odd too. "Doctor Pepper. So Misunderstood." What sort of  slogan was that? That's a slogan for a disgraced politician trying for a comeback.

This book then is a ramble (like this post) but nor rambling (which I hope this post wasn't). Perhaps then the best thing to say is that you have to be in the mood to read it. That although I liked it. I would understand and not criticise those who didn't.

So to the next book.

A28 - Clive Bell - Civilization

A vintage Pelican paperback. A modest title. We'll see how good it is.

Until the next time.

In Which Euro 2016 Starts (Well For Me Anyway) But I've Got To Do A To Do List First

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well Euro 2016 is finally upon us and what an exciting first day with three matches to kick us off including one involving the three international teams I follow, Italy.

Oh OK then it started on Friday. Wales won. England drew with Russia on the pitch and apparently also are neck and neck in who is liable to kicked out first thanks to the actions of the apes from either team in Marseilles. Because of work I won't be able to see the England/Wales game on Thursday. Question is whether there will be an England team for their final game against Slovakia. Today you had the situation of the England manager and captain practically begging the fans to behave. That was depressing to watch. What's even more depressing though is that I have my doubts that the apes will listen.

And I'll tell you this as well. Here in Wales I'm beginning to notice this in a very minor non threatening form. Speaking as an Englishman,albeit a card carrying member of Plaid Cymru, I've seen some, and note the word some (to be precise about five) people walk around in England football shirts and drive cars with the flag of the cross of St George on the back window or attached to a car aerial. I'm thinking to myself  why antagonise people? If this was France I'd get it but you're in Wales. There is a sort of arrogance about doing it at this particular time at this particular moment. I mean would these people do that in Scotland or the Republic of Ireland? Of course they wouldn't.

Let me be clear who I follow in order with regard to international football. England the country of my birth, Italy the country where my ancestry comes from and Wales, the country I live in now and feel should be an independent nation.

Anyway. Monday was off work and it meant that I was able to watch matches in the tournament for the first time. I mentioned to my wife that I was going to do the vacuuming as I was the one not at work that day didn't really have any excuse not to (plus of course avoiding any grief later). This however had to be added to going to the rubbish tip, the library, doing some shopping as well as of course WATCHING FOOTBALL.

So went to the rubbish tip called Thygeston. It is the most well hidden place to throw your trash away I know covered as it is by green fields and trees. It's so discreet that you'd whether ex KGB members helped in its design.

On the way to the tip.....really

Next stop was Porthcawl firstly to the library where I paid my debt to society for an overdue book (15p) and then picked the next football book to read which was.....

Philippe Auclair - Thierry Henry - Lonely At The Top

Yes I know he's a legendary Arsenal player (boo hiss) but he was capable of taking your breath away and have some fans of opposing teams applauding him. I've also read some articles by the author on the e magazine The Blizzard. If the back cover of this book is correct, what I'm going to read is a biography by an author who admires but does not worship his subject. Let's not forget that thanks to his "Hand of Gaul" incident in 2009 he was as popular in the Republic of Ireland as people with the occupations of banker and British politician.

After that shopping which is unimportant apart from the fact I bought a packet of football stickers. Since chatting about the subject last I've bought 4 packets. The totals now (remember it's 33 stickers per team) are as follows.

Turkey: 17
France: 14
Wales: 13
Switzerland:12
Albania: 11
Poland: 11
Russia: 11
Spain: 11
Czech Republic: 10
Ukraine: 10
Austria: 9
Northern Ireland : 9
Republic of Ireland : 9
Belgium: 8
Italy: 8
Sweden: 8
England: 7
Germany: 7
Hungary: 7
Iceland: 7
Portugal: 7
Slovakia: 7
Romania: 6
Croatia: 5

And of course more doubles. Didn't have time to work out what to do with them......I'd football to watch.

Anyway after lunch came the vacuuming. Well there would've been the vacuuming had not the actual cleaner only a few minutes after I started decided to just turn Franciscan monk on me and suddenly turn silent and go off. My first instinct was to check and see if it affected the electricity in other parts of the house but no, it was just rage in that machine.

So the football gods seemed to be smiling on me. Though felt I should show willing and picked up with a dustpan and brush any obvious dust etc from the floor. Did my best under the circumstances but had an excuse, I think that's what they call a win-win.

At last I was ready for the football. First match was the Czech Republic vs Spain. Purely on the grounds that I'd a football shirt for one of the teams I was going to follow....

Viva Espana

Incidentally I've seen the video of the Spanish world cup song. The Spanish captain Sergio Ramos can sing. Here people would give Wayne Rooney a round of applause if he could hold a note.

Spain dominated the game from start to finish. But it had looked as if they had followed the football manual to the letter apart from forgetting the final chapter relating to how to score. Then with a few minutes to spare they did exactly that.

Almost immediately afterwards the match was stopped.........as I paused the TV to pick up my daughter from the school bus. Reading some thirties poetry whilst I was waiting for her...as you do.

Returned. Resumed. Spain won. They can thank me for wearing the shirt later.

Republic of Ireland vs Sweden next. The first half was barring a few Irish chances generally dull which I thought was a good thing as the Republic were the equal of their opponents. In the second half the men in green were ahead, Ciaran Clark scoring a goal best described as Zlatanesque. Unfortunately for them the Swedish equalised through an own goal. That's how it stayed. For a neutral it was a good match to watch on the whole,

So finally Belgium Italy. Not neutral here. To the extent that it was spaghetti for dinner. Microwave spaghetti admittedly (too busy watching football..hope you noticed) but it's the thought that counts. Daughter at guides Wife chatting over coffee with the neighbour. I was all alone. One, two, three "Italia Italia".

Italy were not favourites here. Belgium are apparently the second best nation in the world at the moment. Still you had the feeling they were going to do well. Won the battle of the national anthems and they could deal with Mark Clattenburg as referee being used to Prima Donnas.

Early on they scored with a strike from Giaccherini. Belgium for the most part bar a spell in the second half did not look as if they were capable of making an effective response. It appears that without Vincent Kompany they are a bunch of sole traders. As for Fellani's new blond hairstyle, my theory is that it was designed so that their opponents are so convulsed with laughter they're unable to play properly.

Pelle scored a second just before the final whistle. Italy won. And you know what was the best thing about that victory.It was typically Italian.

Two matches today (Tuesday). Wife and daughter are out for the evening. Things just get better and better.

Until the next time.

Euro 2016 Is Missed Again....Instead I Read A Football Book So That I'm Not A Criminal

Hello there. Hope you're feeling well today.

Well work meant that I missed the three matches that were on yesterday.Living in Wales the match was conscious of mostly was their game against Slovenia. Whilst it would be a lie to say that work was as quiet as a wild west town with tumbleweed strolling across the way it was certainly less busy than normal.

Knew Wales had won though didn't know the score however the other match of interest was England Russia. Did not know the result of that as I came home but to be honest couldn't have recorded it as I wouldn't have had the patience not to know  the result. 1-1 then. England never make it easy for themselves do they? Next match is against Wales on Thursday. Working that day. What with the match and the violence involving (though not it appears solely the fault of) English fans perhaps it's a good thing.

Did not realise I could have been watching part of the birthday celebrations for the fact that a woman turned 90 (three times in fact). Perhaps the BBC licence fee would be more justified if they broadcast celebrations for birthdays for other people reaching that age. Then it wouldn't act as if it should be called Broadcasting By Curtsy.

Anyway so to work and during the quiet moments concentrated on finishing off the library book The Three Degrees by Paul Rees. Not least because I was 1 day late on the due date (I know, on the most wanted list I go).

You may remember that it was about the three Afro Caribbean footballers, Brendon Batson,Laurie Cunningham and Cyrille Regis who played for West Bromwich Albion in the late seventies and early eighties. The first time three non coloured players were in a the first eleven in a team in the UK.

It is a good read. It sets out the complex characters involved very well for the uninitiated, Also and possibly crucially the author's local knowledge of the West Midlands at that time makes it easier for the reader to understand the situation that the men were involved in.

At that time football was in a very nasty state. Hooliganism had taken hold of the sport and so the atmosphere generally was hostile. For these men, the colour of their skin added a further layer that they were forced to deal with.The author sets this out well Would hope this hasn't returned.

If there is a flaw in the book it's overdoing the national situation at the time. Obviously it needed to be explained but the Jeremy Thorpe trial? Really?

Still it doesn't hide the fact that this is a quietly important book about men who found themselves being pioneers and just went about their business despite the obstacles ignorance threw their way.

And perhaps also praise should also be placed on West Bromwich Albion. They always struck me as a club who when faced with issues that were beyond merely football always did the right thing.

Anyway I'll go to the library tomorrow to pay my debt to society and get the next football book then.

Until the next time.