It’s the final set of matches in the 6 Nations, it’s Super Saturday! England nearly managed to meet their objective of beating Italy by 50 points, but they didn’t, so it meant that Ireland had to lose against France for us to win. And here I stand in a packed Irish pub secretly cheering on France. I say secretly because I learnt the folly of openly supporting France when a small group cheered when France scored … shall we say “foolish” and leave it at that, shall we? Yes 😀
God it was so close, nail bitingly close. There were groans and gasps and shouts and endless waves of exasperation ~ I’m there biting my nails, giving tiny fist pumps every time the Irish make a mistake, come-on France! … and then the whistle blows for full time and the pub goes utterly wild. Shirts come off [not mine] and are whirled around heads, cheering ensues. Ireland beat France 22-20 (booo, but shhhh, we’ve learnt *that* lesson).
It was brilliant, good natured and infectious, before you know it everyone in the pub is united in singing The Fields of Athenry.
Ok so technically the wrong team won, but still a good afternoon.