That was the least tense I've ever felt watching Wales play; even with the last minute pull-out of Ryan Jones, a potentially devestating blow in those circumstances, and minus Gavin Henson and without Hookie, for the most part Wales were beautifully dominant. Only when they relaxed and got sloppy towards the end of the match, did it get at all edgy.
This is a weird experience for Welshman of my age and a bit older and anyone younger, those who grew up in the late 80s and 90s watching the Welsh rugby nightmare unfold, with our elders reeling and regaling us with the genius and beauty of Welsh Rugby in the 70s. And only in Wales was is it so important, so tied to national culture and character, to an almost disturbed and damaging degree. (Welsh football is a fairly squalid affair, cf. Cardiff City.)
It meant that every time Wales played well, it was a slightly uneasy surprise, and inevitably undone by subsequent destruction at the hands of, most gallingly, England, the most soulless rugby nation and earth, and bitter rivals. (I don't like this side of Welsh rugby, actually. Mere disdain would be more elegant.) So, for our generations, to expect a commanding Welsh side to perform with confidence and falir and gusto is a joyful and surprising thing. I don't think any of us believed it was real until we beat France last year and took that second Grand Slam. The first still felt like a fluke, or just luck and guts and imagination bound to fade out. (Which, without Gatland and Edwards stepping in, it would have been.)
It created a ongoing sense of deflation and detachment in the nation's psyche, punctuated by brief moments of absurd euphoria and over-confidence every time we did well. Anyone who remembers the embarrasing false dawns of the Graham Henry era (and heard the radio phone ins on Radio Wales at the time) will know what I mean.
I think Gatland is superb, however, I'm a big fan. He's marshalled a good bunch of players into an almost-great team, and yet kept the players egos tied to terra firma. They have a sense of humility and a keen perfectionism and at their best now, play as a team: for example, today's first half, and the amazing and exciting defence play against France last March (overseen by a low-key and effective Gavin Henson to give him his due).
I liked what Flanker Haskell said today:
"The atmosphere [at the Millennium Stadium] is incredible," said the Wasps man. "When people ask if I notice the crowd in the game, I usually say no, but in Cardiff you do, especially when Wales are going forward because it's so loud.
He's right. I remember when the Arms Park was pulled down, it was an unpopular thing because there was so much history and sentiment attached to the stadium, and, in fact, it was a really hideous concrete block with no real atmosphere. The Millenium Stadium looks awful from the outside, but inside it's one of the greatest stadiums I can imagine being built. I've been inside once and it's so steep and deep that any Welsh game is an intense experience: the noise of Welsh fans, the hymns and arias, ricochet around it: the acoustics are amazing. And when Wales are on the kind of form they have been for the last few years, it can only be intimidating, even for the All Blacks. That pre-match stand-off late last year is a good example.
Another thing about the Welsh squad, is that in the late 80s and 90s we always looked fat and ugly and lumbering: missing teeth and full of beer and chips. No we have handsome, swarhy backs and charismatic forwards. The 70s backs were like Iberian hunks and the forwards were rude bulldozers: we're getting back to that, at last. A good-looking, hungry team.
Henson needs to sort his shit out, because as an old man he will regret missing out on so many matches at this time, with this team, and its superb coach.