3336 days ago
My Welsh speaking daughter and her mother Big Nose were over the moon. Not only had England been caned by the convicts but there was the delight still to come of seeing Clive Woodward being interviewed. He was unlikely to show much grace. My father is in Spain but had called in earlier to say that he’d be cheering on the Aussies with a pint of Guinness.
Natch in this little outpost of Ireland here in Bristol I was lining up the drinks and shouting loudly as the Aussie walloped a lamentable English side. My England supporting wife had wisely opted to head off out with a Syrian friend. I am not sure who the Syrian was supporting but the Mrs arrived back home to find a couple of empty bottles and the Scottish gin disappearing fast. She does not understand my pleasure. I tried to explain about Clive Woodward and
