|At Culloden ruthless efficiency gave the redcoats victory|
It's not the end of the world. Honest.
OK, so tears welled up in the eyes and the blood of Welsh rugby legend HVP Huzzey ran cold in my veins. But life goes on. The world revolves.
Oh but the thought of the media and commentators of a certain hue wittering on for weeks about this match does have a black cloud hovering over my head.
It's the same old story for Welsh rugby: failure to take points when the opportunities arise; lack of depth in a squad which means when players like Adam Jones and Gethin Jenkins are injured our scrum doesn't perform; and what is it with Welsh line-outs? OK, we don't lose as many as we once did, but we certainly don't try and steal the opponents' ones.
More than that I think there is a lack of self-belief in the squad as a whole. Last night was another "if only" game, like those against South Africa, Australia and (dare I bring myself to say it?) Fiji last year.
The Welsh team is missing that cold, clinical edge to their game that teams like New Zealand possess in abundance and other teams like France and Ireland possess at times (like the Welsh they ebb and flow).
I don't know the answers, but professional sportsmen need to win scrums, win line-outs, go for more turn overs and more than all these combined: believe in themselves!
The scumbag that was the Duke of Cumberland only got his accursed redcoats to beat the Highlanders at Culloden (1745), finally ending the Jacobite dream of enthroning Charles Edward Stuart, the genuine heir to the crowns of England & Scotland in place of the Hanoverian thieves, by teaching each soldier to trust the man next to him to do his job, stand his ground, and take out the man in front of him.
With this cold efficiency the Hanoverians won and the sad fact was that the Jacobite victories of the previous year were all for nought.
If the Welsh team can use the same tactics, trusting each other to do their job on the field, taking out the opposition assigned to them, acting together, as one, to defeat the old enemy, then a year from now all this might seem like a bad dream.
Cymru Am Byth.