Remember when you fell in love? Or when you had your first baby? When every quiet moment you had, something popped into your mind. Not all consuming or conflicting. Not so much that you could not work or do what needed to be done. But there, nonetheless, in the background until your mind fell fallow, and it was brought to the fore.

I feel like that. But this time, my thoughts stray to a few thousand miles away. To 15 Men in Red, and their exploits on a field of play in the South Pacific Ocean. I think it odd, but never the less, I am silently frantic. Waiting. Tomorrow cannot come fast enough.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow, when Sam’s Army walk out to face a conflicted rabble of French. Tomorrow, when the weight of a Nation that so often revels in the self imposed misery of pessimism and defeat Prays for Glory. For Greatness. For Victory.

Good luck tomorrow, boys. You have already done Wales proud. But a couple more victories would not hurt.

GWLAD!