I had all these fancy titles ringing around my head but in the end I chose a cheap headline grabber. Please forgive me and read on, you know I love thee really.
Sport doesn't have the same magic for me as it seems to for everyone else. Even in 2012 when everyone had Olympic mania and the Queen impressed the planet by arriving at the Olympic stadium via parachute with James Bond, sport barely registered in my dusty old mind. Winning trophies? The pulse of a cheering crowd as victory calls? I don't 'get it', and never have.
I remember as a boy being taken to Wrexham to see Wales play Russia in football and all I remember was that I was cold, bored and shocked that so many grown ups would willingly choose to waste their time with such a misery. So much dreary, dreary.
But that was football. Rugby was a different beast. Being Welsh and having lived all my life in west Wales, how could it not be? Everyone loved rugby in my sleepy corner of the world. The stunning defeat of New Zealand at Stradey Park in 1972 when the pubs ran dry (true story) after Llanelli beat them 9 - 3 was still fresh and though only a year old in 1972 the cheer carried on for many a year (even today).
I love rugby. I went to Strade comprehensive which was across the road from Stradey Park, our teachers would regularly take a class over to see the bigger games. Local legends Ray Gravelle and Phil Bennet came to the school, rugby was religion.
A force to channel a surge of passion and excitement, and bring some sunshine to a soon to be winters soul. Cawl for the spirit if you like.
So its pretty depressing to wake up every morning (2015 rugby world cup has kicked off) to hear of yet another injury to the Welsh squad. Do the rugby gods not want a Welsh win? Or are they planning a spectacular run of victories? Who can tell?
Life has a funny (and sometimes tragic) way of showing us what is and isn't important and for me I only need think back a week when the news was full of pictures of that poor child washed up on a beach dead. Real life is heavy and though the soul can withstand ferocious heartbreak when called upon, it was not made for such unbearable weight.
Naturally I want Wales, Cymru fach, to win and feed the dragon but ultimately its not important. Its not in the slightest bit important when we see others going through so much hurt.
Oh and remember! I am not saying this with defeat in mind and trying to pass it off as "there are other more important things to worry about" (here you can picture me winking knowingly). I don't play that game, as honest as the day is sharp, I can take both sweet and sour in equal measure and face them naked in my honesty.
Way back when I was in school I used to carry a notebook everywhere I went to record daily thoughts and observations. So you see, ive been blogging since before it was popular and where better to carry it onward than to give it a digital page of its own? Welcome to the pages of bar fly Hollywood Francis...
