Cracking the Code

77 minutes on the clock, Sam Warburton rips the ball in contact before putting a perfectly weighted nudge down into the French 22. France scuttle back and leather the ball into touch. Wales win the ensuing line out, retain the possession, Barnsey says time's up, ball goes off the park. Wales are victorious in Paris. Back to sleep. From a Welsh perspective, the above would have been a pleasantly mundane end to an average test match. Average at best. Instead Warburton's punt kept rollin, rollin, rollin (Durst 2000), off the green and into the drink - scrum to France back in Welsh territory. One last opportunity for Le Bleu - albeit the wrong shade of Blue, bring back Bleu de France. Stash is important. Rant required. Few phases later, France are camped meters from the Welsh line, the clock turns red and we enter the fifth quarter. The goings on of the nek twenty minutes, yes there was another twenty minutes, would be so farcical that they make the concept of five quarters s...

With 70 minutes on the clock, I found myself bemoaning Wales' lack of self control, whilst I simultaneously jumped up and down, trying to keep the expletives to a whisper - albeit a shouty whisper. Pot kettle.... For those of you who have followed my Six Nations journey to this point, I opted against the casino for Saturday morning's 7am KO. Instead leveraging the Hola VPN service to stream the game on my ageing laptop. Upside, I watched the game in the comfort of my bed. Downside, buffering. A word that hasn't been met with a positive reaction since the internet begun. Coverage wasn't all bad, loving the work of Paul O'Connell on comms - impartial, insightful and relevant. Fair to say that my previous offering paid more than mere lip service to George North's involvement, or distinct lack of, against the Scots. I loved the metaphorical two fingers that he stuck up to me with his two tries, and overall impact against the Irish. Get him back on that list, War...

The Star Casino, Sydney, bears little resemblance to 'Taly Social' (pronounced Taleee, short for Talybont), the bar at my Uni halls of residence. It bears no resemblance. However, as I exited the gambling emporium at 3:37am on Sunday February 26 2017, vis a vis today, my face held a glum expression that perfectly resembled that with which I departed  the student binge drinking haven on February 10th 2007. The day on which Wales last experienced defeat at the hands of the Scots. As a sign of personal development, I would like to add that the 2017 dejected Welsh fan comes without the Strongbow and Black stains situated within a short radius of the mouth. So, why did Scotland win? They nailed their doubles. No, this is not a reference to the much stereotyped drinking prowess of the Scots, more a darts type analogy used to indicate that Vern Cotter's side were more clinical in converting opportunity into points. And we all know what points mean.....(the answer is prizes)....

Pretty sure that I'm not the first punter to vacate Sydney's Star Casino, questioning what could of been, if that last spin had produced a favorable outcome. Certainly won't be the last. However, my disappointment had less to do with a dab handed croupier, more the fleet of foot of Elliot Daly, whose 78th minute try grabbed England a victory that either team would have been entitled to. Such was the contest. As I caught up on social media in the taxi (uber  had surge) home, it was the usual suspects getting grilled, Howley and of course Cuthbert, it was always going to be Cuthbert.  You do know that the Wales lot will blame me for this. To use a cricketing analogy, Cuthbert held down an end for nine overs before getting a walloping in his last. A loose carry surrendered possession at a critical stage before his decision to back his own wheels by offering Elliot Daily the outside proved to be a wrong'un as the Wasps gun turned on the heat to cross for the matc...

A six nations Saturday is an entirely different experience at GMT+11. I awake at 3:18am, exactly 22 minutes before the alarm is due to sound. I would love to attribute the early get up to a Christmas morning like excitement. On reflection, I think it was more the noise of neighbours returning home from the boozer. I am sweating. I doubt anyone in Cardiff is sweating, excluding the players going through their pre match rigours, oh and Dai Baselayer. If you know Cardiff on match day, then you know Dai. Dai likes to showcase his guns in a pro fit Under Armour Wales jersey. However, Dai's no fool, it gets cold in the stadium, he knows that, he puts his Baselayer on. Unfortunately for Dai, his friends have a preference to spend a notable portion of their Mikey Rayer (all dayer) in the sub Saharan climate of Walkabout. Dai sweats, the baselayer is soon saturated, but he has a cold strongbow, he is happy. Meanwhile in Sydney, escalating personal sweat levels persuade me to roll out of...

Whilst millions at home were enjoying watching Six Nations super Saturday unfold, I was forced to scurry around the Internet looking for alternative outlets for following events. The letters VPN became my nemesis. A combination of Radio Wales, Radio Ulster, BBC sport app and Twitter just about managed to keep me in check. Although the masses lauded this the best day's rugby in history, questions quickly started to emerge around the structure of the competition and why fans hadn't been treated to such free flowing games on previous weekends.  It is difficult to reject the notion that synchronised kick off times on the final weekend would assist in creating a level playing field as teams fight it out to determine their final standing. The concept is deployed in major football competitions for that very reason. It was undoubtedly to England's advantage that they had a total to chase, as opposed to Wales and Ireland who knew they just had to post their best and hope. Conver...

With the excitement of my World Cup adventure now but a memory and those 'what if' thoughts becoming increasingly irregular it is time to raise the curtain on the 2012 RBS Six Nations. Having dismissed other options including rail and sail, goat and boat and jog and log I will board  Ryan Air Flight FR 443 bound for Dublin at circa 6.10am tomorrow (subject to weather delays). Despite the promise shown by Wales out in New Zealand I travel with a feeling of uncertainty. Welsh rugby is by its very nature unpredictable and history would warn us against becoming over excited  and cocky on the basis of autumns endeavours. There are of course those that will gladly remind you that this weekends opponents were in fact Wales' only major scalp during their run to that World Cup Semi Final in Auckland. In order to prove both the doubters and historians wrong Wales must produce a performance and perhaps more importantly a result that demonstrates that Gatland an...