Wednesday, March 21, 2007

As long as we beat the English, we don't care

Kelly Jones' words not mine, I want to beat everyone, but realistically, if your having a shite season the one to win is England at home. We gave them a right tonking, but it should have been more, especially if Ickle Shane could learn to pass as well as run. The atmosphere in the stadium was a good as I can remember for years, the singing was fantastic. At one point just before half time the dirge that is Swing Low just about got to the end of the first line when it was drowned out by a rousing Hymns and Arias. For the first time for a while both team and crowd seemed up for it, but then, it was only England, and lets not forget that they are also a little bit crap as well. I moved in elevated circles that day, sharing a car to Cardiff with the British ambassador to Argentina, bizarre.
Still trying to get tickets for the world cup quater finals in Marseille, not that its a banker that Wales or England will get that far. The official ticketing website is a pile of chimp jiz. A few of us have registered for information since November, but nada, jack. Every time you try to buy tickets that are 'Available for general sale now !' you get to the press the button part to be told, not available. Its starting to become tiresome, I really could do with a weekend on the lash with the guys, its something we used to do a few times a season, and its on the wane since we all became middle aged and sensible. Marseille in the Autumn seemed to be the ideal opportunity to rediscover our talents for quaffing industrial amounts of cheap red wine and forcing each other to eat oysters without barfing.

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