Alternative ending

Barely a month has passed since the event that transformed the spirit of our small nation. From the moment Sam Warburton lifted the Webb Ellis Cup, we have been in rugby heaven. That’s all we think about, all we talk about and all we dream about.

Wales’ convincing defeat of the mighty All Blacks on their home territory has created a fervour reminiscent of a religious revival.

Max Boyce knows all about this feel-good factor.

“The pubs really have run dry” said Boyce, whose latest rendition of ‘Hymns and Arias’ has just topped the UK charts. “I can’t believe it, even the English are buying it!” said Boyce, beaming.

Of course, we owe much of our success to the wisdom of Alain Rolland, who very nearly sent captain Warburton off for his controversial tackle in the semi-final against France.

“If I’m honest, I very nearly acted on impulse rather than reflection” said Rolland.

“Then I took a moment to compose myself, a few deep breaths, that type of thing. I consulted with my linesmen. Asking for advice doesn’t have to be a sign of weakness.”

It was a pivotal moment. Would Wales have been strong enough to overcome France with just fourteen men? We can happily consign such questions to the realm of speculation.

And the party isn’t over yet. The Welsh public are preparing to give the boys a warm welcome home at the Millennium Stadium next month. The sell-out match versus the Wallabies, initially touted as Shane Williams’ retirement party, is now, well, just a big party.

“I can’t retire now” said a smiling Williams, whose solo efforts were critical in the demolition of New Zealand.

Of course, in the rugby sense, our celebrations are somewhat tarnished by the mysterious disappearance of Graham Henry. The former all blacks coach, who did much to transform the fortunes of Welsh rugby culture over a decade ago, has not been seen since his infamous sprint from the podium to the changing rooms, silver medal in hand. There is a strong rumour that he has fled to a healing retreat in India, to ‘rediscover his vision’, a vision destroyed by Gatland’s warriors.

These rumours have been denied by the newly appointed player-coach of New Zealand, Dan Carter.

“No-one has heard from Graham.” said Carter.

kicking cans

That sounds like a bizarre post (another one), but it’s true.

Back in primary school all footballs and rugby balls were banned. Even sponge ones.

But they could not contain our creativity, which seemed to thrive on the challenge. What did we do to overcome this barrier? We created our own balls. From tape, or even old socks. Basically anything that could be kicked or carried. Even flattened drink cans.

This seems crazy now. In an age where the emphasis (early years at least) is on the concept of play.

Play, play, play, play, play.

We already knew this.

But in that year, 1987, Wales came third. Glenn Webbe scored three tries in one of the matches? Or was it four? He played a literal stone’s throw from our school yard. And John Devereux (another local boy) scored the winning try against England in the quarter finals.

That touchdown…we imitated it all day…

People...

are sometimes like two trains passing each other in the dark

May 5th dilemma

Dilemma

The frustrating thing about having a small freezer is that, when cooking peas, one has to eat the entire pack.

"Get a bigger freezer then" I hear you say.

That's not the point. The point is that Birds Eye no longer make small packs of peas, only the medium or large ones. This, in my view, is discrimination, and creates a slight (very slight) fear for the future. Apart from clearing the freezer, there remain but two options, eat a lot of peas or waste a lot of peas.

Clwb Cyri

Heno cefais fy ethol yn gadeirydd clwb cyri’r uned gyfieithu. Ein nod yw crwydro bwyta’r ddinas a thu hwnt er mwyn magu rhagor o brofiad yn y maes.

Rose Indienne gafodd ein sylw heno. Cafwyd croeso cynnes iawn wrth i ni gamu trwy’r drysau moethus. Un peth braf am Rose Indienne yw’r ffenestri anferth. Rwy’n hoffi gweld be’ dwi’n ei fwyta, ac mae cael ddigon o olau dydd yn hwyluso hynny.

Ar ôl defod y popadoms, rhaid oedd dewis o’r fwydlen gynhwysfawr. Ac am ddewis. Oes rhywun ‘rioed ‘di gweld saig o gregyn gleision ar fwydlen indiaidd? Ar ôl cryn drafod, dewisais olwythion cig oen tandwri gyda reis pilau a llysiau. A phum baji winwns.

Ma’ dewis cig oen wastad yn risg mewn bwyty Indiaidd. Bydd y cig naill ai’n toddi yn eich pen, neu fel cnoi ar wadnau hen esgidiau. Mae’n bleser dweud taw’r cyntaf a gafwyd yn Rose Indienne. Serch hynny, roeddwn yn siomedig bod rhaid i mi ofyn am saws mint gyda’r cig oen. “Pam lai” oedd ymateb y gweinydd. Oni ddylai saws o’r fath fod yn rhan o’r pryd?

Yn anffodus roedd y bajis tamed bach yn seimllyd, ond yn dderbyniol.

Mae fy nhad wastad yn dweud bod mesur bwyty yn ôl safonau’r toiledau. Wel rhaid dweud bod y toiledau’n eithriadol o lân, os nad yn ddigon glân i weini bwyd ar eu lloriau. Does tim toiledau glanach yn Abertawe. Serch hynny, roedd hen garton bwyd parod ar y llawr, i gronni dŵr oedd yn diferu o’r to. Ond peth bach yw hynny, ac mae’n well na cha’l llawr gwlyb.

Wyth allan o ddeg.

http://www.roseindienne.com/

A man who knew George Best

I love hearing first hand stories about legends, whether in sport or anything else.
I was fortunate to meet Brian and his wife Wendy on holiday.
Brian, originally from Dublin but now living in England is a successful constructor.
I commented that he bore a slight resemblance to George Best, to which he smiled.
"Did you know George?"
Remarkably he did know George very well and had even built a bar for him in London back in the seventies.
"Tell me more about the great man!"
Brian told me that George was completely laid back about completing the bar. Rather than fret about deadlines, he had set up a goal within the construcion area. Best's wife then, Angie, was doing all she could to drag her husband away from the workers so that he could complete an interview for the BBC, for which he would be paid handsomely.
Best wasn't interested in money. Apparently he would stand with the ball at his feet, goading the workers to "come and get it from me!". Dozens of workers would down their tools and try to steal the ball from Best. No chance.
"We just couldn't get it from him!" remarked Brian. "He would just display these magical skills like you wouldn't believe."
Brian told me several other anecdotes, some I could not possibly repeat here. Suffice to say that the man was a legend both on and off the field.
This may mean nothing to other people, but I love hearing these type of first-hand accounts. They make me feel like a 10-year-old again.

Caneuon

Rwy'n teimlo braidd yn flin ar ôl gwrando ar radio Cymru. Dwi ddim yn wrandwr selog gyda'r hwyr, ond roeddwn i awydd clywed caneuon Cymraeg cyn mentro i'r wyl nes 'mlaen yn yr wythnos. Ac er bod y ddwy gyflwynwraig yn llawn egni a brwdfrydedd byrlymus, roedd sawl cân Saesneg yn britho'r darllediad. A bod yn gwbl onest, dwi ddim yn gwrthwynebu'r polisi o ganiatáu ambell gân Saesneg os taw dyna yw dymuniad rhyw wrandawr sy'n dathlu achlysur arbennig neu angen clywed rhyw gân benodol. Ond rwy'n siwr bod modd hepgor y polisi hwn yn ystod wythnos y brifwyl? Yn enwedig os yw'r cyflwynwyr dan sylw yn darlledu o'r maes ieuenctid? Dwi'n credu bod y syniad o 'gynhwysiad' yn wych, ac mae angen cynnwys cymaint o bobl â phosibl. Ond un o gryfderau mawr yr wyl yw'r rheol Gymraeg. Oni ddylai'r rheol hon ymestyn i holl feysydd y brifwyl a'r darllediadau ohonynt?