No Fun Losing But...

Losing at anything pretty much hurts if your heart is in the team you support. I don't recall the football manager who said it now (I don't follow football), but he said that, "football is more than sport. Its a religion." Here in Wales, we can say the same about rugby, indeed some would say its our national sport. We do have those strange people who prefer football (and I mean that light heartedly), but as a rule, rugby is where its at.
So you can imagine how many sad faces awoke on Saturday after losing to our age old rivals England the previous night (oh and for the record, I still cannot get used to Friday night rugby internationals). It stung that bit more too, especially after playing well in the first half and going into the second as the team with more points on the board. I thought we had the beating of them. I was confident the dragon would emerge victorious but alas when the final whistle blew, the score was Wales 16 England 21, and a nation was left either drowning our sorrows or having a little banter via Twitter and Facebook. Social media has made losing a nightmare because whereas before the internet, we only had work mates to face on a Monday morning, the joys of winning and sadness of losing is instant.
But lets not lose heart over it, afterall its only sport, not war. Nobody is dying here, there are worse things going on in this often cruel world.
Sure I would feel different had Wales won. As a passionate Welshman supporting our national team, I would be bouncing off the walls and gloating on Twitter like the English fans were doing (and good for them), but it doesn't hurt to be on the losing side once in a while. It keeps everything in check, proving nothing is immune to life's bitter blade. Safe to say that I would be extremely wary and nervous were I to ever meet someone/something that was forever winning. Success at every turn might sound like a grand old time but it would create such a fierce arrogance that no mortal could have it and not be corrupted in some terrible way. Perfection? Blessed? That way lies danger.
Anyway before I start wading into a different territory, I shall end by saying defeat might leave a sour taste in ones mouth, and will certainly dampen spirits for a while but with everything else going on in this world, losing at a sport should be the least of our worries.
Lose and learn from it. Oh, and *grits teeth* well played England.

Second Chance Saloon

So footballer Ched Evans is freed from prison after serving half of a five year sentence for rape. You read that right: rape. And due to the nonsense from his teams fans, his victim has had to get a new identity and move away. Now I like to think I'm a fair man, people screw up and they deserve a second chance. But there exists a group of crimes so heinous and vile, that allowing for a second chance is is something not easily given.
And sexual offences are among the. Evans hasn't even acknowledged his crime and carries on as if nothing happened. He'll just go back to his thousands of pounds a week job while the victim has had to change her life completely. Football, indeed most sport, are funny old things. If you bang in the goals and bring home those trophies, you can get away with anything. And this isn't jealousy over his mega wage, the guy is now a convicted rapist and if I was a supporter of his club, I wouldn't want him playing again. But then I wouldn't put anything past knuckle dragging supporters, success is all, despite having a rapist in the team.
How Evans can even show his face again is beyond me. If it were me, I'd lock myself in my home and never show my face again. The thought of appearing in front of a stadium filled with thousands of people wouldn't cross my mind. But then people like murderers and rapists aren't like us. There's not a shred of remorse or decency in their bones.
Supporters who are standing by him ought to be ashamed of themselves.

The Tonypandy Terror

‎It has been one hundred years today since the birth of Wales' finest boxers (or one of them), the Rhondda born fighter Tommy Farr. Known as the "Tonypandy Terror", he became British & Empire heavyweight champion on 15 March 1937. Few (re: none) would argue his deserved lofty place in the ranks of greatest British hevyweights.

On 30 August 1937, Tommy gained the respect of the boxing world when for a whopping purse of $60,000 (a huge amount in those days), he fought world heavyweight champion Joe Louis at the Yankee Stadium in New York, and despite losing out due to a controversial points decision after 15 rounds, his place in sporting history was set forever. Never forget that the "Brown Bomber" (and these nicknames are delicious to a writer) was one of the greatest heavyweights of all time, who had knocked out 8 of his previous 9 opponents (and KO'd the next 7) but that mattered not a jot as the Bomber was mercilessly pumelled and hurt by the Tonypandy Terror in one of the hardest battles of his life.
The crowd thought Farr had won. And evidently referee Arthur Donovan did too because he was seen shaking Farr's hand after the bout, seemingly congratulating the Welsh fighter on a job well done. The 50,000 audience booed when Louis was awarded the narrow points decision.

Thanks to the wonders of video (with a nod to Youtube) you can watch it all here. Tommy Farr died in 1986 on St. David's Day aged 72 but he lives on in the hearts and memories and Welshmen and fight fans the world over. Long live the Tonypandy Terror! Cymru Am Byth.