Dewi Scott was a rotund lover of life whose appetite for food, tinctures and chicanery of every sort set him amongst one of the finest men I have ever known. His particular delights were the Muppets, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Strongbow, double Pernod chasers and a slap up Chinese meal at the end of an evenings revelry.The week ends entertainment started on a Friday night at seven sharp at his local called the Cardiff Arms. A couple of pints to start the night were partaken of and thence it was off down Treorchy High Street to several other watering holes ending at the local rugby club four hours later. In this time span it was not unusual for our hero to down eighteen pints of Strongbow cider with mandatory double Pernod chasers. It was then off to the local Chinese restaurant to consume fantastic quantities of food. In the morning Dewi would awaken early for he was a postman by trade seemingly none the worst for wear after the previous nights excesses. After work the same routine commenced at seven sharp again. This was the ritual for two straight years.But all routines can become boring and as time passed Dewi decided to broaden his horizons and started branching out to local clubs usually as a guest at someones birthday bash. It was at one of these occasions that Dewi was to start the most profound weekend of his life.It all started with snow fall close to Christmas in 1977. Treorchy looked for all the world like John Fords idea of a Welsh mining village in winter. The charm of the place coupled with pre Christmas excitement had put everyone in high spirits. None more so than Dewi. And so it was that Friday night came around and the revelries began. It was to be the Cardiff Arms first and then on to a club called The Pig and Whistle. The club was a typical working mens institution with a snooker playing area downstairs and a dance hall upstairs.We noticed that Scott was in a particularly happy mood that night as he started drinking at twice his usual pace. By eight thirty he had put away some ten pints and twenty Pernods and was well on his way to la la land. By the time we reached the club - about a quarter of a mile away - the cold night air added to the alcohols effect and we were all feeling pretty well oiled when we got there. Inside the club the birthday party was in full swing. The night continued on its way with more imbibing. At around half past ten one of our fellow travellers who was fond of cannabis pulled out a piece of resin the size of an OXO cube and thought to partake of a spliff or two. Dewi noticed this and to emphasise his dislike of drugs took the resin away from him and for no accountable reason put it in his mouth and swallowed it. There were a few strong words exchanged but it all blew over pretty soon and we started to think about going home. At ten forty five Scott suddenly stood up and started to march and I mean march - around the hall. We watched in awe as he did about ten circuits until he finally shot out of a door and disappeared downstairs. We followed him to see if he was all right but was told by the door man that he had gone home mumbling something about having to get up in the morning. We decided to call it a night and slowly made our way through the snow to our respective homes thinking no more of Dewi.On Saturday afternoon it was the habit of a number of us to call in to the Prince of Wales pub which was situated next to the Crown post office in Treorchy the place where Dewi worked. When we got there the landlord could hardly contain himself. He looked like hed been crying. In fact hed been laughing so hard he just looked upset. Have you heard about Dewi Scott? he chuckled. We obviously hadnt so we were all curious to hear. I was talking to the Post Office manager earlier today and he told me Dewi had turned up for work at five am this morning. Good! we all thought and said so. You dont understand said the landlord. He turned up for work wearing only his slippers, a pair of trousers and an alarm clock tied around his neck with a piece of string. Hes been taken home.We sat down and started to contemplate the implications of this news when, unprecedentedly, who should walk into the pub but Dewi himself. He looked like his usual self but seemed a bit distracted. After a few sherbets he started to talk to us about the previous night. He said that hed made his way home and had had a most disconcerting experience. On entering his bedroom he said he saw a sea lion lying on his bed. It frightened him so much that he decided to spend the night on the sofa downstairs. Hed filled a hot water bottle for some reason and had also tied an alarm clock around his neck to avoid sleeping late. At around three in the morning he woke up feeling desperately thirsty but was unable to get up so he opened the hot water bottle and drank the lot. The next thing he recalled was being taken home by the Post Office manager.We explained to him what hed done with the cannabis the previous night but he had no recollection of it. Whatever! The afternoons session continued and we again noticed that Dewi was drinking like a man possessed. At around six it was obvious to all that whatever was mixing in his blood was taking an amazing toll on his speech and motor abilities and so it was with some surprise that he suddenly stated that he was going home. He lurched out of the front door of the pub and promptly collapsed into a five foot bank of snow on the side of the road and would not be roused. We were debating whether to call an ambulance or whether to take him home when there was some kind of divine intervention. The local Salvation Army band that had been out on manoeuvres collecting for the needy spotted him and his plight. Given a practical chance to exercise their concern for those afflicted with the demon drink, they picked him up and took him home all of them in full uniform and instruments walking through Treorchy High Street.We didnt know whether to laugh or cry.The following day Dewi once again turned up at the pub. He was sober, embarrassed and ordered an orange juice. He said hed come too somewhere near his house and just couldnt understand who all these people were surrounding him. Worse they had taken him home to his parents house and he remembered the amazed look on his fathers face when he opened the front door to be confronted by the spectacle of his son being held up by the band.After that, apart from a few other notable outings, he cooled off considerably and met a woman who convinced him that his drinking wasnt really the appropriate behaviour of the man she wanted to marry. To his credit he quit the booze and lived the life of a happily married man. He still does.

Tis The eve of the Grand Slam, Triple Crown and Championship.The Celtic fringe once again gathers in Cardiff for a Cambrian / Hibernian face off.The Irish, festooned with shamrocks, have crossed Saint Georges Channel with delusions of winning their first Grand Slam since 1947. The gods of Wales await them with a masterful smile.In times past, the encounter of these two wild, cultured, volatile, passionate and emotional peoples have seen more beer and porter being put away in an afternoon than is decent to remember here.On the field one fondly thinks of Brian Price decking an opponent in front of The Prince of Wales and sometime later Geoff Wheel being sent off for re-enacting the same sans royalty.Of course in these more enlightened times I also remember the likes of Tony O Reilly, Mike Gibson, Ollie Campbell and the immortal Willie John McBride; fortunately theyre not playing tomorrow. But then again fortunately for them neither are Gareth Edwards, J P R Williams, Gerald Davies or Delmi Thomas.Great times. Lets hope we have a game tomorrow that has the Hwyl and Crack that the occasion deserves.Wales 28 Ireland 19 is my prediction. - fortunately I don't gamble.:)

The Welsh side in Italy didn't exactly inspire. In fact they looked pretty amateurish on times. Italy weren't sparkling either but they flattered to deceive.This was s a second string Welsh side that had better be changed for Ireland on Saturday next. The British and Irish Lions side will be announced soon so look out for a bruising encounter on the 21st.On a side note. What the hell is Gavin Henson doing. He's rapidly becoming the Johnny Wilkinson of Wales; injured or on paternity leave or unfit or drinking tea in Mrs Miggins pie shop - any excuse will do but the media play him up as though he were a god.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Il lato di Lingua gallese in Italia non ha ispirato esattamente. In effetti hanno guardato abbastanza dilettanteschi sui periodi. L'Italia non stava scintillando neanche ma hanno adulato per ingannare.Ci era s un il secondo lato di Lingua gallese della corda che dovrebbe essere cambiato dopo per l'Irlanda il sabato. Il lato britannico ed irlandese dei leoni sar annunciato presto in modo da sguardo fuori per un incontro d'ammaccatura sul ventunesimo.Su una nota laterale. Che cosa fare di Gavin Henson. Sta diventando rapido il Johnny Wilkinson del Galles; danneggiato o su lasciare di paternit o su t inadatto o bevente nel negozio della torta di sig.ra Miggins - tutta la giustificazione

ROMA 2009Missione altamente probabileSig. Gatland di buongiorno. Sabato prossimo intendiamo inviando una delegazione di Taff alla citt immortale.L trovate una miriade di tipi latini che osa sfidare il drago.La vostra missione - la accettate - di rimborsare le orde romane per fare un passo in Galles senza cos tanto come' dal vostro permesso' circa 1900 anni fa.Prevediamo il genere di prestazione che mostrerebbe ad un esercito dei gladiatori la porta.Se voi o c' ne del vostro gruppo siete preso che perdete questo gioco naturalmente disconosceremo tutta la conoscenza della vostra esistenza.Buona fortuna Warren.ROME 2009Mission Highly ProbableGood morning Mr Gatland. Next Saturday we intend sending a Taff delegation to the Immortal city.There you will find a host of Latin types daring to challenge the Dragon.Your mission - should you accept it - is to repay the Roman hordes for stepping into Wales without so much as a by your leave some 1900 years ago.We expect the kind of performance that would show an army of gladiators the door.If you or any of your team are caught losing this game we will of course disavow any knowledge of your existence.Good luck Warren.

The English croaked at Croke Park yesterday. In tight a game that reminded one of a camel's nether regions in a sandstorm, Brian O Driscoll's side defeated England by 14 points to 13.Dublin along with the rest of The Emerald Isle were celebrating the long held practice of putting the Saxon in their place whilst HQ brought out the black arm bands once again.If things go to plan the Irish will have a face off with the Taff on March 21st for the Triple Crown and a possible 'large slapping' for the Irish.

Seigneur Dieu! Le jeu tait un bon exemple de maintenant pour ne pas jouer au rugby pour un Grand Claquement.Le ct gallois, fervent un homme, a sembl la disposition sur la sorte de torpeur seulement rserve pour de certaines sections d'une morgue; ils ont t encalmins.L'ennemi gaulois, qui a sans doute fait les tudes sous Asterix, a jou du liquide, une course pied, le rugby habile et fort tandis que nous le gallois wilting sommes tombssur nos poireaux.'I ewyllysia mo bod 'r 'n Fawreddog Chlepia eleni. Namyn beth 'r annwfn! 'n gyfnesaf blwyddyn i mewn Caerdydd????Well thats rugby for ya : )

Call me a picky old fellah if you like but I don't see the point of playing rugby at 20:00 on a Friday night.14:00 on a Saturday was the traditional kick off time in Cardiff and Paris. In Cardiff, especially, one could fight to get into The Queens Vaults ( if you wanted a dusty pint ) or The City Arms or The Bluebell or Earl Haig club et al. I swear we could drink about 15 pints of Brains Dark, watch such nonsense as fart the penny and the spoon game and still make it to the ground and back home bursting at the seams in the days when DMU''s didn't have toilets. I think it was due to the consumption of about four Clarke's pies ( with pastry that could absorb anything and keep the most wanton alcoholic sober ) before the liver bashing started that kept us in trim for the day - that and the fact that Brains Dark was 99% water.

It's Shrove Tuesday - so what are you all going to give up for Lent? Not pancakes I hope.