Saturday's game at Liberty Stadium was, by some distance, the Ospreys' best team performance of the season so far. A now-familiarly patchwork home team out-thought and out-fought a strong Munster outfit, in the pouring rain. As entertainment, it lacked something, but given what we've sat through so far this year, no-one was complaining. This was much, much better.
I had to say all that first, because here comes some angry criticism.
19-7 down with ten minutes to play, Munster, as everyone surely expected, staged a late rally and took control of the final stages. Unable to prevent this, the Ospreys "dug in" and defended, for the large part, with skill and courage. One irresistable drive gave Munster a try, but by that point the match was in injury time, and the hard-won delay seemed to have been decisive. With seconds to go, the Ospreys were awarded a penalty 45m out. Game Over - or should have been. Kick for goal, use up the remaining time - no? If you score, you deny the opposition a bonus point; miss, and you're still defending 100m of space for the few remaining seconds. There doesn't even seem to be a problem to solve here. The Ospreys, however, found one. A short but intense on-field conference ended in Dan Biggar kicking for a line-out. If the players were surprised to lose possession from the subsequent throw, they must have been the only ones in the stadium. Munster were gifted a last chance. Incomprehensibly, they kicked it away... Naturally, Ospreys fullback Gareth Owen made his first mistake of the night, and knocked on... Mercifully, the referee had seen enough ineptitude for one phase, and blew for no-side.
For all the due praise for a much improved spirit and application, the Ospreys' apparent fixation on prising defeat from the jaws of victory was incomprehensibly stupid. All that skill and effort risks being rendered futile if there is no tactical sense whatsoever. They got away with this one, but the problem doesn't seem to be going away.
Tuesday, 8 December 2009
Sunday, 29 November 2009
Ooh, You Are Autumn!
Well, it was a fairly depressing Autumn series for Wales in the end. Four tries scored in four home games; one from a kick, one from a trick, and two from loose ball situations. In 320+ minutes of rugby, they created nothing. The frustration of the supporters boiled over on Saturday evening as Wales were booed from the field at the Millennium Stadium. They can have no complaints; unlike the poor punter, £45 pounds (or more) poorer for another no-show. Sport is still the only theatre where one can't expect a refund even if the cast forget every single line. Perhaps Wales need to follow the example of Wigan Athletic? Fat chance...
"Wales may be the first major international team to have perfected the drift attack: flat, one-paced, ready for the hit and pushing for the safety of the touchline."
- Gareth Roberts, BBC.
As fans, we have grown up in recent years. We no longer believe that style is paramount. We understand that winning is, if not everything, then at least 51% of everything. But what we cannot forgive, is failure without style. We can still stomach defeat, but we cannot abide deserving defeat. When there is no refuge in injustice, there is nowhere else to turn but inward.
And so, for the first time, there are real rumblings of disquiet about the coaching team. Has Warren Gatland taken us as far as he can? Has Shaun Edwards' defensive system been found out? And what are Howley and McBride actually doing? Suddenly, these aren't taboo questions any more. But that's not to say that they have obvious answers. If not this team, then who? And would change at the top really help, or are this squad in irreversible decline?
No answers here, I'm afraid. It's dangerous to hang too much hope on individuals, but it's hard not to imagine that things would be different with Adam Jones, Lee Byrne and, above all, Gavin Henson in the squad. And so it comes down to the old angst about "strength in depth"; once again it seems to be fatally lacking, and undermining what success is achieved. No coach is going to solve that overnight.
In the short term, the similarly desperate state of other Six Nations squads ameliorates the crisis. With England floundering, the French golden age over before it began, and Scotland being... Scotland, it seems that even a struggling Wales side will stand a chance of doing well in the New Year. Perhaps short term success is going to have to be the limit of our ambitions for now? World domination, it seems, will have to wait. Again.
"Wales may be the first major international team to have perfected the drift attack: flat, one-paced, ready for the hit and pushing for the safety of the touchline."
- Gareth Roberts, BBC.
As fans, we have grown up in recent years. We no longer believe that style is paramount. We understand that winning is, if not everything, then at least 51% of everything. But what we cannot forgive, is failure without style. We can still stomach defeat, but we cannot abide deserving defeat. When there is no refuge in injustice, there is nowhere else to turn but inward.
And so, for the first time, there are real rumblings of disquiet about the coaching team. Has Warren Gatland taken us as far as he can? Has Shaun Edwards' defensive system been found out? And what are Howley and McBride actually doing? Suddenly, these aren't taboo questions any more. But that's not to say that they have obvious answers. If not this team, then who? And would change at the top really help, or are this squad in irreversible decline?
No answers here, I'm afraid. It's dangerous to hang too much hope on individuals, but it's hard not to imagine that things would be different with Adam Jones, Lee Byrne and, above all, Gavin Henson in the squad. And so it comes down to the old angst about "strength in depth"; once again it seems to be fatally lacking, and undermining what success is achieved. No coach is going to solve that overnight.
In the short term, the similarly desperate state of other Six Nations squads ameliorates the crisis. With England floundering, the French golden age over before it began, and Scotland being... Scotland, it seems that even a struggling Wales side will stand a chance of doing well in the New Year. Perhaps short term success is going to have to be the limit of our ambitions for now? World domination, it seems, will have to wait. Again.
Thursday, 5 November 2009
Missing In Action
BBC SPORT | Rugby Union | Ospreys v Northampton (Thu)
That the Ospreys are claiming 29 absentees for tonight's Anglo-Welsh game is a dramatic illustration of the farce that the modern squad system is becoming. Some may well ask how on Earth a squad that can lose 29 players, and still field a match 22, is sustainable. I certainly wouldn't want to be paying that wage bill while barely filling 7000 seats.
Still, it's a chance to see players we've never seen before; or even heard of. I confess I don't know James King from Adam (Jones, ha-ha). The best of luck to him.
The good news is that the Northampton side will be a similar patchwork, so there are still no excuses; and given the fare that the first XV have produced thus far, this is a golden opportunity for players like Ryan Bevington and Jonathan Spratt to begin capitalizing the P in Potential. I also have high hopes of Gareth Owen, so much freer-looking at fly-half and one of the few bright spots in last weekend's soporific 9-9 draw with Glasgow.
Of course, it's all just an hors d'oeuvre for Saturday'sritual sacrifice international match. Let's hope the boys can put me in a good mood before that ordeal begins...
That the Ospreys are claiming 29 absentees for tonight's Anglo-Welsh game is a dramatic illustration of the farce that the modern squad system is becoming. Some may well ask how on Earth a squad that can lose 29 players, and still field a match 22, is sustainable. I certainly wouldn't want to be paying that wage bill while barely filling 7000 seats.
Still, it's a chance to see players we've never seen before; or even heard of. I confess I don't know James King from Adam (Jones, ha-ha). The best of luck to him.
The good news is that the Northampton side will be a similar patchwork, so there are still no excuses; and given the fare that the first XV have produced thus far, this is a golden opportunity for players like Ryan Bevington and Jonathan Spratt to begin capitalizing the P in Potential. I also have high hopes of Gareth Owen, so much freer-looking at fly-half and one of the few bright spots in last weekend's soporific 9-9 draw with Glasgow.
Of course, it's all just an hors d'oeuvre for Saturday's
Friday, 30 October 2009
Blue Isn't The Colour
England unveil new away kit - Telegraph
Ooh, [rant mode=ON]
What are England doing in blue? It may be an unwritten rule - indeed, it may well exist only in my head - but there are some colours that certain countries should never sport. "National" colours must come from flags, or other readily-identifiable national symbols. England and Wales cannot be blue. White, red and green are okay, although green is pushing it for England. Wales can justify black and gold (from St. David's cross). Scotland or Ireland would look bloody silly playing in red, wouldn't they? Orange was daft enough...
Bah. Double-bah if you're Scottish, I imagine - as England's sense of "ownership" of blue undoubtedly stems, consciously or not, from the Union Flag. Bah!
[rant mode=OFF]
[partisan mode=ON]
Anyway, off to Liberty in a while to watch the Ospreys' Reserves' Wives' Friends' Under-21 XV take on Glasgow. The omens are hardly good. Young players must be developed, of course, and this is the kind of fixture to do it; but it's no use pretending that this is the XXII we'd select by choice. That said, our choices haven't exactly covered themselves in glory thus far...
Ooh, [rant mode=ON]
What are England doing in blue? It may be an unwritten rule - indeed, it may well exist only in my head - but there are some colours that certain countries should never sport. "National" colours must come from flags, or other readily-identifiable national symbols. England and Wales cannot be blue. White, red and green are okay, although green is pushing it for England. Wales can justify black and gold (from St. David's cross). Scotland or Ireland would look bloody silly playing in red, wouldn't they? Orange was daft enough...
Bah. Double-bah if you're Scottish, I imagine - as England's sense of "ownership" of blue undoubtedly stems, consciously or not, from the Union Flag. Bah!
[rant mode=OFF]
[partisan mode=ON]
Anyway, off to Liberty in a while to watch the Ospreys' Reserves' Wives' Friends' Under-21 XV take on Glasgow. The omens are hardly good. Young players must be developed, of course, and this is the kind of fixture to do it; but it's no use pretending that this is the XXII we'd select by choice. That said, our choices haven't exactly covered themselves in glory thus far...
Tuesday, 15 September 2009
Failure To Launch
A few weeks ago, I opined that the Ospreys didn't look rusty. Sadly, it appears they've been left out in the Swansea rain ever since.
Saturday's game at Liberty Stadium was excruciating. Some of the rugby played was of amateur quality... but such highlights were scarce. Ulster won't and shouldn't care; they leave with a valuable scalp, entirely merited simply by virtue of their status as visitors. It wasn't their job to provide entertainment, and it's not their fault that the home side were so abject. A tiny handful of loyal travelling fans sang deliriously at the death, and it was impossible not to smile.
The Ospreys were epically clueless. At the breakdown, they flopped and floundered; behind it, they formed line abreast along the gain-line like bemused cattle, inevitably catching man-and-ball repeatedly, as they denied themselves the time and space to craft openings. When the painfully slow ball that resulted wasn't being shipped on to another statuesque "option runner", it was being shanked heavenward without even the pretense of a tactical context. Forward and backs alike seemed to treat the ball as if getting rid of the thing was an end in itself.
Ulster brought precious little to the party; but they brought enough. Ian Humphries' bald competence at fly-half easily eclipsed the ragged torpor of his counterpart James Hook, managing to ensure that what few moments of creativity appeared, favoured the men in white. A try count of 2-3 is all that need be said to illustrate their worthiness.
But as a spectacle, the game was unwatchable. It's a tragedy that around 7000 of us had nowhere else to look...
Wednesday, 9 September 2009
Blood on the Carpet
Bloodgate - The Sequel
Excellent words from Will Carling on the machinations of self-absolution and cover-up.
But Will and other ex-player pundits are unavoidably compromised when discussing the matter. There are friendships and loyalties involved everywhere, and these can make it impossible to remain objective.
As with nearly everything I've read from ex-players on this issue, Carling can't resist pointing out Dean Richards' status as a scapegoat. It's a perfectly fair point and an understandable one for someone who knows Dean Richards - the whole man, not the straw one - to make. The problem is, it's irrelevant to the big picture, and sounds - however unfairly- like apologism.
Richards was fully complicit in an affair which has not only shamed the sport publically, but has also been a betrayal of all those with an investment in it, from major corporate sponsors right down to you and me, sat in the pub, cheering the exploits men we feel the right to regard as heroes.
Pundits who either say or imply that "everyone knew what was going on" miss the point. There is a distinction between the general suspicion that not everyone is playing fair at all times, and certain knowledge that systematic and cynical cheating has been proceeding unchecked. Once a crime is proved, it it not enough to say, in effect, "well what did you expect?" To bring the full weight of authority to bear on those caught in the act, is not to suggest that there are no other culpable parties. To jail a few hoods may be no substitute for dismantling The Mob; but it's better than nothing, and a welcome start, so long as a start it truly is.
It is up to all students and lovers of the game now to ensure that any sanitizing operation fails; that the light remains shining on the culprits of our humiliation and the "G&T brigade" are not allowed to absolve themselves of responsibility, past, present or future. Dean Richards and his small band of co-defendants are due that much, but no more.
Is Richards a scapegoat? Certainly. But he is a fully deserving one. The notion that he was simply playing along with an existing culture of deceit simply won't wash. Even if he was not a founding father of that culture, as a senior figure in the game, his complicity perpetuated and legitimized it. I can't find an ounce of sympathy for him.
But that's easy for me to say.
Excellent words from Will Carling on the machinations of self-absolution and cover-up.
But Will and other ex-player pundits are unavoidably compromised when discussing the matter. There are friendships and loyalties involved everywhere, and these can make it impossible to remain objective.
As with nearly everything I've read from ex-players on this issue, Carling can't resist pointing out Dean Richards' status as a scapegoat. It's a perfectly fair point and an understandable one for someone who knows Dean Richards - the whole man, not the straw one - to make. The problem is, it's irrelevant to the big picture, and sounds - however unfairly- like apologism.
Richards was fully complicit in an affair which has not only shamed the sport publically, but has also been a betrayal of all those with an investment in it, from major corporate sponsors right down to you and me, sat in the pub, cheering the exploits men we feel the right to regard as heroes.
Pundits who either say or imply that "everyone knew what was going on" miss the point. There is a distinction between the general suspicion that not everyone is playing fair at all times, and certain knowledge that systematic and cynical cheating has been proceeding unchecked. Once a crime is proved, it it not enough to say, in effect, "well what did you expect?" To bring the full weight of authority to bear on those caught in the act, is not to suggest that there are no other culpable parties. To jail a few hoods may be no substitute for dismantling The Mob; but it's better than nothing, and a welcome start, so long as a start it truly is.
It is up to all students and lovers of the game now to ensure that any sanitizing operation fails; that the light remains shining on the culprits of our humiliation and the "G&T brigade" are not allowed to absolve themselves of responsibility, past, present or future. Dean Richards and his small band of co-defendants are due that much, but no more.
Is Richards a scapegoat? Certainly. But he is a fully deserving one. The notion that he was simply playing along with an existing culture of deceit simply won't wash. Even if he was not a founding father of that culture, as a senior figure in the game, his complicity perpetuated and legitimized it. I can't find an ounce of sympathy for him.
But that's easy for me to say.
Sunday, 23 August 2009
Friends... For Now.
Leeds Carnegie were the visitors for Ospreys' first pre-season friendly, in a preview of their visit "in anger" next February in the Anglo-Welsh Cup. The Ospreys will be hoping it was a full dress-rehearsal, as they eased to a 35-20 victory in an entertaining match.
Despite the farcical number of substitutions, both sides held together commendably well, and there was little of the rustiness usually associated with these affairs. While the home side always had the edge, Leeds played positively, scored three tries, and never let the Ospreys out of sight.
The big "draw" for the game was the debut of trophy signing Jerry Collins (right) at No8., and he was fully involved without ever being conspicuous. Meanwhile, veteran full-back Barry Davies looked at or near his creative best and seems a fine signing for the region as cover for Lee Byrne. Davies created the first score for Johnny Vaughton with a perfect grubber kick, then scored himself soon afterward. Replaced on 65 minutes, he'd played a blinder and should he keep that up, Byrne will be kept on his toes.
What on Earth the Ospreys were doing playing in "Newport" colours, however, is anyone's guess. It's not a bad strip per se, but it's a departure from black-and-white, and it doesn't sit well. Gold just doesn't feel Ospreylian, somehow...
Friday, 27 February 2009
The Late Show
And on the bill this evening; Modern Blues.
They may be new names to some of you, ladies & gentlemen, but don't let that worry you - they are mostly new names to each other, as well.
What on Earth Monsieur Lievremont is playing at this time is a question for drama critics as much as for sports pundits. A fly-half who has never played there before, a winger shifted to full-back, and an uncapped centre pre-packaged with a poor disciplinary record, as part of a centre pairing who have only played together once, in training...
If it was anyone other than France, one could simply blow a dismissive raspberry and talk about Wales' margin of victory.
But it isn't anyone other than France. Wales wore the unfamiliar mantle of the favourite at home against England impressively enough, but now they must carry that title forward onto the field at Stade de France. It was a first in twenty years against the English, but Wales going to Paris as favourites hasn't happened for an even longer time.
Thankfully, the powder keg is almost entirely anhydrous. The return of Shane Williams to the wing, and Gavin Henson on the replacements bench, gives Wales pretty much a full deck of cards to play behind the scrum. Things look a little sparer up front, with Luke Charteris and Dafydd Jones seeming rather light cover for a pack that must contain Harinordoquoy, Ouedrago, Dusutoir and Chabal...
Whoever wins this one will have achieved something special. Wales must find, if not a new dimension, then at least the occisional wild vector if the failings exposed by England are not to haunt them again. France must simply find each other.
They may be new names to some of you, ladies & gentlemen, but don't let that worry you - they are mostly new names to each other, as well.
What on Earth Monsieur Lievremont is playing at this time is a question for drama critics as much as for sports pundits. A fly-half who has never played there before, a winger shifted to full-back, and an uncapped centre pre-packaged with a poor disciplinary record, as part of a centre pairing who have only played together once, in training...
If it was anyone other than France, one could simply blow a dismissive raspberry and talk about Wales' margin of victory.
But it isn't anyone other than France. Wales wore the unfamiliar mantle of the favourite at home against England impressively enough, but now they must carry that title forward onto the field at Stade de France. It was a first in twenty years against the English, but Wales going to Paris as favourites hasn't happened for an even longer time.
Thankfully, the powder keg is almost entirely anhydrous. The return of Shane Williams to the wing, and Gavin Henson on the replacements bench, gives Wales pretty much a full deck of cards to play behind the scrum. Things look a little sparer up front, with Luke Charteris and Dafydd Jones seeming rather light cover for a pack that must contain Harinordoquoy, Ouedrago, Dusutoir and Chabal...
Whoever wins this one will have achieved something special. Wales must find, if not a new dimension, then at least the occisional wild vector if the failings exposed by England are not to haunt them again. France must simply find each other.
Tuesday, 24 February 2009
As Ye Sow...
England are still moaning about their perceived victimization by referees, with more emphasis on Jonathan Kaplan's performance in Cardiff.
They might, possibly, have a point. It's not beyond all reason that, on a subconscious level, certain refs scrutinize England more closely than their opponents. But there are several caveats to such a concession:
We all remember that there was more than a whiff of "payback" when New Zealand bemoaned the forward pass that cost them so dearly in the RWC07 quarter-final. Likewise, England's bellyaching about skewed refereeing increasingly looks to the rest of us like so many chickens returning home to their Twickenham roosts.
* The standard rugby euphemism for "cheating".
They might, possibly, have a point. It's not beyond all reason that, on a subconscious level, certain refs scrutinize England more closely than their opponents. But there are several caveats to such a concession:
- England have brought this upon themselves, by reverting to their negative instincts, and prioritizing disruption of the opposition over constructive attacking play. They have been one of the most streetwise* teams in the world for many years, and without a trace of shame. That they have somehow mislaid these skills is bad luck, but frankly, it's all a bit "rich".
- Just as northern-hemisphere referees have a partially-deserved reputation for overzealousness with regards to technicalities, so southern refs have had, for a long time, a tendency to favour the attacking side and over-penalise the defending team. Once again, England reaped the rewards of this for many seasons as their muscular forwards allowed Rob Andrew et al. to kick less conservative teams to death.
- The majority of the sin-binnings recently suffered by England have been open-and-shut cases. Haskell and Geraghty were stupid, Tindall suffered for the repeated sins of the team after multiple warnings, and Goode's transgression, if understandable, was transparently cynical. They do have a case regarding Lee Byrne, however!
We all remember that there was more than a whiff of "payback" when New Zealand bemoaned the forward pass that cost them so dearly in the RWC07 quarter-final. Likewise, England's bellyaching about skewed refereeing increasingly looks to the rest of us like so many chickens returning home to their Twickenham roosts.
* The standard rugby euphemism for "cheating".
Wednesday, 18 February 2009
Look At The Scoreboard!
We're still learning this "favourites" lark.
Read the papers and websites in the aftermath of Saturday's fixture in Cardiff, and you could be forgiven for struggling to work out who England's opponents had been. Such was the celebration accorded to a functional defensive plan and a few hard tackles, it was almost as if Wales actually winning the game - by two clear scores, at that - had escaped all notice. Even from neutral quarters, there came the kind of headline that brought either nostalgic sighs or peals of laughter from the pubs & clubs of Wales.
It's only fair to highlight a few dissenting voices; Will Carling being notably, and commendably off-message, and stealth Welshman John Taylor bringing some perspective.
This collective critical navel-gaze may stir derision from partial commentators like the one you are reading. But it will no doubt be fine and dandy by Messers Gatland, Edwards & Howley. They quietly press on with the business of trying to win the championship, with once again all the focus on someone else.
Saturday's game was a new test for Wales, and if they didn't get straight As, they passed comfortably enough. There was no panic when it became clear that, as widely suspected, England were no pushovers after all. There was perhaps a little too much adherence to a "plan A" that wasn't entirely working, but it ultimately proved to be working well enough, and was justified by the result.
In fact, it was the newly-confident English who sought to open the game out more; a development as praiseworthy as it was surprising. That Wales refused to get pulled out of shape, plugged away, and finally doused the fire with water still left in the tanks, provided yet another sign of a team growing as a unit and as individuals.
The midfield handling by the forwards for Leigh Halfpenny's try was a thing of rare beauty, but overall this must count as an "ugly" win; and, in the final analysis, may appear all the more beautiful for that.
Read the papers and websites in the aftermath of Saturday's fixture in Cardiff, and you could be forgiven for struggling to work out who England's opponents had been. Such was the celebration accorded to a functional defensive plan and a few hard tackles, it was almost as if Wales actually winning the game - by two clear scores, at that - had escaped all notice. Even from neutral quarters, there came the kind of headline that brought either nostalgic sighs or peals of laughter from the pubs & clubs of Wales.
It's only fair to highlight a few dissenting voices; Will Carling being notably, and commendably off-message, and stealth Welshman John Taylor bringing some perspective.
This collective critical navel-gaze may stir derision from partial commentators like the one you are reading. But it will no doubt be fine and dandy by Messers Gatland, Edwards & Howley. They quietly press on with the business of trying to win the championship, with once again all the focus on someone else.
Saturday's game was a new test for Wales, and if they didn't get straight As, they passed comfortably enough. There was no panic when it became clear that, as widely suspected, England were no pushovers after all. There was perhaps a little too much adherence to a "plan A" that wasn't entirely working, but it ultimately proved to be working well enough, and was justified by the result.
In fact, it was the newly-confident English who sought to open the game out more; a development as praiseworthy as it was surprising. That Wales refused to get pulled out of shape, plugged away, and finally doused the fire with water still left in the tanks, provided yet another sign of a team growing as a unit and as individuals.
The midfield handling by the forwards for Leigh Halfpenny's try was a thing of rare beauty, but overall this must count as an "ugly" win; and, in the final analysis, may appear all the more beautiful for that.
Friday, 13 February 2009
The Scent of Blood...
1988.
Salman Rushdie published "The Satanic Verses". Michael Keaton spooked us with "Beetlejuice". U2 released the album "Rattle & Hum". And the Welsh rugby team were the bookies' favourites for the Five Nations match with England at Twickenham...
It hasn't happened since. A generation of Wales fans have grown up as fans of the underdogs. It's taken an age for the wheel to turn, but turn it finally has. England will take the field at the Millennium Stadium on Saturday evening, as rank outsiders. Read that last sentence again. Yes, it's true.
Warren Gatland has no problem with being a favourite. It's a mentality he has worked hard to instil in his Welsh charges; and it does indeed seem to be rubbing off. There is no sense coming from within the camp of the discomfiture without. "Bring 'em on" seems to be the mantra. "Gats" has even found time to indulge in the psychological psilly-pseason. His announcement that Wales have decoded England's lineout calls is a masterful piece of nonsense; it can be doubted, derided, even mocked... but it cannot be ignored. Genius?
There's a consensus among pundits that Wales have too much in just about every department. The cold numbers foretell a hefty Welsh win. Those who recall the litany of recent English drubbings of Wales lick their lips at the prospect of long-delayed revenge.
But it can't, and won't, be that easy. England's fitness, skill levels, tactical awareness and strategic direction may be safely questioned. Their sheer bloody-mindedness, however, should never be under-estimated. If eyes are to remain fixed on the prize, then a close, ugly home win in Cardiff must be embraced if required.
"Payback" is simply an optional extra.
Salman Rushdie published "The Satanic Verses". Michael Keaton spooked us with "Beetlejuice". U2 released the album "Rattle & Hum". And the Welsh rugby team were the bookies' favourites for the Five Nations match with England at Twickenham...
It hasn't happened since. A generation of Wales fans have grown up as fans of the underdogs. It's taken an age for the wheel to turn, but turn it finally has. England will take the field at the Millennium Stadium on Saturday evening, as rank outsiders. Read that last sentence again. Yes, it's true.
Warren Gatland has no problem with being a favourite. It's a mentality he has worked hard to instil in his Welsh charges; and it does indeed seem to be rubbing off. There is no sense coming from within the camp of the discomfiture without. "Bring 'em on" seems to be the mantra. "Gats" has even found time to indulge in the psychological psilly-pseason. His announcement that Wales have decoded England's lineout calls is a masterful piece of nonsense; it can be doubted, derided, even mocked... but it cannot be ignored. Genius?
There's a consensus among pundits that Wales have too much in just about every department. The cold numbers foretell a hefty Welsh win. Those who recall the litany of recent English drubbings of Wales lick their lips at the prospect of long-delayed revenge.
But it can't, and won't, be that easy. England's fitness, skill levels, tactical awareness and strategic direction may be safely questioned. Their sheer bloody-mindedness, however, should never be under-estimated. If eyes are to remain fixed on the prize, then a close, ugly home win in Cardiff must be embraced if required.
"Payback" is simply an optional extra.
Monday, 9 February 2009
Yes, We Have No Banana Skins...
Wales 26-6 (dec.)
Scotland 7 (all out)
Few Welsh dreams played out the Murrayfield game as easily as reality ultimately allowed. Scotland - admittedly handicapped by injury and looney selection - proved far more accommodating hosts than anyone had predicted.
26-13 may look like a contest, but it wasn't. Had the eternally perfect Chris Paterson been kicking goals for Wales instead of Scotland, it would have been 37-5. As it was, the man who has scored all but 20 of Scotland's last six matches' worth of points against Wales, sat on the bench for 30 minutes, waiting for one of his hapless team-mates to injure himself. Once on the field, he led his team to a subsequent parity - in terms of points, at least.
That Wales settled for the hour-mark scoreline will frustrate fans and concern coaches, but there is an argument for keeping powder dry for when the English visit Cardiff on Saturday. On reflection, a solid, professional but unspectacular victory might be just what is needed. It should ensure that the spotlight remains to be shared with Ireland, whose calm dismantling of France has made everyone sit up and take notice. A perfect atmosphere, one suspects, for Gatland & Co. to quietly take care of matters arising this week.
Scotland 7 (all out)
Few Welsh dreams played out the Murrayfield game as easily as reality ultimately allowed. Scotland - admittedly handicapped by injury and looney selection - proved far more accommodating hosts than anyone had predicted.
26-13 may look like a contest, but it wasn't. Had the eternally perfect Chris Paterson been kicking goals for Wales instead of Scotland, it would have been 37-5. As it was, the man who has scored all but 20 of Scotland's last six matches' worth of points against Wales, sat on the bench for 30 minutes, waiting for one of his hapless team-mates to injure himself. Once on the field, he led his team to a subsequent parity - in terms of points, at least.
That Wales settled for the hour-mark scoreline will frustrate fans and concern coaches, but there is an argument for keeping powder dry for when the English visit Cardiff on Saturday. On reflection, a solid, professional but unspectacular victory might be just what is needed. It should ensure that the spotlight remains to be shared with Ireland, whose calm dismantling of France has made everyone sit up and take notice. A perfect atmosphere, one suspects, for Gatland & Co. to quietly take care of matters arising this week.
Friday, 2 January 2009
Little Change
The Scarlets are the latest club to become disillusioned with their bright new stadium. At just over 15,000 capacity, Parc Y Scarlets is not quite so hard to fill as the Liberty Stadium, but they're still getting nowhere near.
The result is a financial headache, and a matchday atmosphere less worthy of the name than the ice-clouds of Enceladus. TV pictures show entire banks of empty seats, while the soundtrack echos with the faint cries of beleagured fans bouncing off them. The impression is hardly one of an unmissable experience, and hence the vicious spiral continues. In the current climate of South Wales, the sofa seems an infinitely preferable option to all but the most masochistically loyal fan.
And yet, there is still no talk of cheaper tickets. The suits have their business models, of course, and if the numbers tell them that (for example) 7000*£16 is better than 14,000*£10, then I for one don't have the economics degree required to argue the point. But it does rather fly in the face of common sense, doesn't it? Of all the things keeping the droves of fans away from the shining new temples of regional rugby, can the lack of change from a "Bobby Moore" really be the least of them?
The result is a financial headache, and a matchday atmosphere less worthy of the name than the ice-clouds of Enceladus. TV pictures show entire banks of empty seats, while the soundtrack echos with the faint cries of beleagured fans bouncing off them. The impression is hardly one of an unmissable experience, and hence the vicious spiral continues. In the current climate of South Wales, the sofa seems an infinitely preferable option to all but the most masochistically loyal fan.
And yet, there is still no talk of cheaper tickets. The suits have their business models, of course, and if the numbers tell them that (for example) 7000*£16 is better than 14,000*£10, then I for one don't have the economics degree required to argue the point. But it does rather fly in the face of common sense, doesn't it? Of all the things keeping the droves of fans away from the shining new temples of regional rugby, can the lack of change from a "Bobby Moore" really be the least of them?
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