In the wake of England’s superb victory over France yesterday and Wales’s inept and miserable display in Italy, I was reminded of a little piece I wrote last year after Wales won their second Grand Slam this century. Here it is, in all its previously unpublished glory:

About ten years ago I was having a quiet drink in the Yeoman Warder’s Club in the Tower of London when I fell into conversation with a young officer. Fresh-faced, pink-cheeked, fair-haired, RP of accent and demeanour, straight out of Sandhurst, bursting with confidence and not a little hubris, he was astride his world. Every country has his type.
As he extolled the virtues of English rugby he discovered I was Welsh. His lip curled in an involuntary sneer which years of training made him attempt to disguise. But he couldn’t conceal his opinions.
“There’s little point in England playing any of the home nations any more. The English rugby team is now so powerful the only possible opposition they can find in the northern hemisphere is France. Mark my words, they will scrap this new Six Nations Championship and England and France will compete with the tri-nations (South Africa, Australia, New Zealand) for a real Five Nations Championship.”
“You have to be realistic. There is no way Wales, or Scotland or Ireland, will ever beat England again. We’re much too big and rich and powerful for countries as small as they are to worry us. Granted,” he allowed magnanimously, “there may be the odd freak result but it would be a one-off, like Wrexham beating Arsenal.” He smiled condescendingly. “You buggers can play each other. Probably get Roumania to join in, and Italy. It’d be fun. You’d like it.”
Why do I report his speech in quotes?
Because every bloody word is etched on my memory.
And I would love, love, love to have a drink with that nice young subaltern today.
And slowly grind his pretty little nose in the mud.

And despite the magnificence of England’s play yesterday in what was easily the best game of the tournament so far, next weekend they will be playing Scotland for a mid-table end to the tournament, having won two, lost two.
While the subaltern’s no-hopers will be playing each other for the Championship.
Because we blew it against France, only Ireland can win a Grand Slam, something they have managed to do only once in my — or anyone’s — lifetime. They’ll bottle it, because the weight of history is too heavy on their shoulders, because they’re playing in the cauldron of Cardiff and Wales, despite recent showings, has a pretty fine team.
Hello little subaltern! How are you feeling nowadays?

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