Today was a very good day to be Welsh. The chariots headed to Cardiff and were destroyed by the dragons.
A Triple Crown already won and a Grand Slam on the horizon.
It takes me back to those glorious days in the 60s and 70s when if we couldn’t make it to Cardiff a group of us would gather at one of the houses and watch it on TV.
Plenty of beers and lagers to hand and the cheers reverberated down the street when those heroes – from all walks of life but brought together by their red jerseys – crossed the opposition line for yet another try.
I gave up playing when I left school but I have never lost my passion for the game.
The joy of seeing those great players, Barry John, Gareth Edward’s, JPR Williams, JJ Williams, Gerald Davies, Mervyn (Merve the Swerve) Davies, Delme Thomas and so many more, remain etched in my memory.
My greatest joy, however, remains my meeting with the player who has always sat on the rugby throne of Wales as far as I am concerned.
I went to report on the opening of a new rugby clubhouse in Rhyl in 1971 – the man who opened it was none other than Barry John.
I had met a few famous people before then and over the next 40 years I met many more but this is the meeting that stands out, even more than getting a hug from Harry Secombe in Australia.
Now that IS another story.