Some of the most companionable times I spent with my father were those watching Wales play rugby. He himself had played while in the army, and afterwards occasionally for London Welsh B. Outside half.
He was invited to give the speech at the dinner celebrating the centenary of Newport Rugby Club. He told me that he had had to speak to Presidents and Prime Ministers and Popes and what have you, but nothing came near to the nerves he had in preparing and anticipating this speech. This was, he explained, because he was addressing not mere statesmen or archbishops, but gods.
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