Old Ghost laid to rest at Cardiff Arms Park
December 1st 2009 23:42
Going back to Cardiff for the All Blacks/ Wales test last month was like a rendezvous with an old ghost.
I was last there in October, 2007, on that dreadful day when, against all odds, the French sent the All Blacks packing from the Rugby World Cup. My memory of the place was coloured by defeat – the streets running with gloomy black as the Kiwis left town, the mournful silence at the crowded railway station.
Although I believe that lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same spot, I was uneasy on the train down from London that morning. Since Cardiff, most of the teams I have supported at live matches have been defeated (The French in the World Cup semi finals, the English in the finals, Melbourne 3rds in the crucial 2009 qualifying match… need I say more?) The Welshman across the aisle, who boasted that Wales wins every match he watches, did nothing to allay my discomfort.
However, this time Cardiff had an entirely different mood and colour. The streets were running with Welsh red and echoing with Welsh song. It spilled into the Holiday Inn where, just as we had in 2007, we watched the Wallabies battle it out with England on TV. Last time their defeat seemed a sinister foreshadowing of the All Blacks’ awful fate. Was their win this time a portent of victory for the All Blacks? Only the match would tell.
Flares, flags, brass bands and choirs set a jubilant mood at Cardiff Arms. Glorious singing from the Welsh supporters carried the game along. Even the normally tight-lipped and match focused Kiwis burst briefly into song, with a spirited round of Tutira Mai Nga Iwi.
In the end our victory wasn’t altogether too easy, nor was it secured without contention. We laid the game to rest in one of Cardiff’s backstreet bars with a couple of convivial Welshmen, agreeing to meet whenever, wherever, on the day that Wales wins against the All Blacks again.
The next morning, Cardiff’s station was seething with black once more. However this was a black of any entirely different mood and texture. It was noisy, cheerful black. The old ghost had been laid to rest.
Flares and fanfare at Cardiff Arms Park
I was last there in October, 2007, on that dreadful day when, against all odds, the French sent the All Blacks packing from the Rugby World Cup. My memory of the place was coloured by defeat – the streets running with gloomy black as the Kiwis left town, the mournful silence at the crowded railway station.
Although I believe that lightning doesn’t strike twice in the same spot, I was uneasy on the train down from London that morning. Since Cardiff, most of the teams I have supported at live matches have been defeated (The French in the World Cup semi finals, the English in the finals, Melbourne 3rds in the crucial 2009 qualifying match… need I say more?) The Welshman across the aisle, who boasted that Wales wins every match he watches, did nothing to allay my discomfort.
However, this time Cardiff had an entirely different mood and colour. The streets were running with Welsh red and echoing with Welsh song. It spilled into the Holiday Inn where, just as we had in 2007, we watched the Wallabies battle it out with England on TV. Last time their defeat seemed a sinister foreshadowing of the All Blacks’ awful fate. Was their win this time a portent of victory for the All Blacks? Only the match would tell.
Flares, flags, brass bands and choirs set a jubilant mood at Cardiff Arms. Glorious singing from the Welsh supporters carried the game along. Even the normally tight-lipped and match focused Kiwis burst briefly into song, with a spirited round of Tutira Mai Nga Iwi.
In the end our victory wasn’t altogether too easy, nor was it secured without contention. We laid the game to rest in one of Cardiff’s backstreet bars with a couple of convivial Welshmen, agreeing to meet whenever, wherever, on the day that Wales wins against the All Blacks again.
The next morning, Cardiff’s station was seething with black once more. However this was a black of any entirely different mood and texture. It was noisy, cheerful black. The old ghost had been laid to rest.
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