When the Celtic Warriors regional franchise meekly assumed the mammaries-uppermost position, some of South Wales' oldest rugby communities were left bereft of first-class representation on the field. Most of the sympathetic noises gravitated towards the old talent foundry of Pontypridd, a club more well adapted to the role of the martyr. The house that had produced JPR and Rob Howley, amongst others, nonetheless carried less caché with Welsh rugby romantics. Its slip into obscurity occurred with a comparative whimper.
Perhaps the Warriors never convinced as a coherent "region". When they expired, the Bridgend club fell under the expanded Ospreys franchise; an attachment even more seemingly arbitrary than the previous one. The town's membership of the imagined community of "Ospreylia" is notional, at best. Tonight, however, should provide the clearest idea yet of the extent to which this new loyalty has been embraced.
The occasion is hardly auspicious; the LV cup is being played out by under-strength teams in a confused and uninvolving format. It would be stretching the truth to claim that winning it was amongst any team's principle ambitions. That said, there's always added spice when English teams visit, and they don't come much spicier than the Leicester Tigers. Add in the return of a certain ex-Ospreys scrum-half in opposition, and things get so "spicy" that the metaphor may collapse under the strain...
So, off down the M4 with me to sample the hospitality of my regional brethren. I hope they like what they see. I'm sure I will.
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