The nerves are building. Tomorrow will be a long day, On Saturday the only thing to do is to pour over the papers; try to keep busy and try not to start drinking too early. Being welsh, Rugby is poured into our DNA, the week before a big game involves 3 million selectors, discussing the pros and cons of this player over that, tactics that will win or lose us the game.
For 80 minutes the world, our world atleast, will stand still, oblivious to hurricanes, aeroplanes and Brexit complains. Our common gaze fixed on screens in living rooms, bars and for the lucky few, in the stadium itself.
A victory will end in one hell of a hangover, but then again so will a defeat, so everyone's a winner. I will be glued to my computer screen willing my country on while my wife will watch, bemused, never able to understand what Rugby means to me and my fellow countrymen.
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