Today one of my anual feasts of sport starts the Six Nations Rugby. England, Ireland, Scotland, France,Wales and Italy. A battle of strength, speed, and courage. My greatest desire is for a Scotland win- after that Wales and Ireland then Italy then France and never England. England play rugby like a machine. No art no creativity- just brute force. When they had some unnaturaly overdeveloped monsters in the team they were unstoppable- now other teams can have their forwards, England's backs have never got the ball before and they have no idea what to do with it!
So I am hopeful that the worst wont happen- England stand no chance. Unfourtunately I do not think my beloved Scotland will do much better. Ireland are a bit unsettled, the French could be either the best or the worst depending on mood, Italy are improving and may sneek an odd win. So I reckon Wales are the nation to beat.
Only I have got to try to fit working for Herrad around the matches and she always needs me just after kick off untill just before final whistle- so I at least hear the anthems and know the result.
I miss my sport so much- I even watched Leyton Orient (London's best but bijou soccer club) when I was in living near the ground. Saturday afternoon is made for watching football. English working class males crave and go into a decline if we do not get it.
.bmp)
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