My Grand Slam 2005 Memories – Our Generation Game

Mar 11 2008 by Carolyn Hitt, Western Mail

The 2005 Grand Slam will always be particularly special because it was a first for an entire generation of Welsh fans.

I was only nine when my teenage brothers were pinning up their 1978 Grand Slam Western Mail Souvenir Poster. By the time I got a taste of the excitement they had feasted on and almost taken for granted throughout their ’70s youth, 27 years had gone by.

A Grand Slam seemed a mythical phenomenon to anyone under 40. Our battered copy of The Crowning Years video, featuring ancient warriors with luxuriant sideburns, was the rugby equivalent of The Mabinogi.

But on March 19, 2005, we experienced the magic for ourselves. My Grand Slam day began with a wake-up call from Max Boyce.

“Is it sunny in Cardiff? It’s glorious in Glynneath,” he declared.

Favourable weather conditions in the capital were crucial to Max’s revised Hymns and Arias lyrics.

And, of course, it was a gorgeous spring day, which added to the warmth of the feel good factor. From the moment Cardiff filled with sunshine and an estimated 250,000 fans, there was the sense that, with a 16th man of this size, Wales were unstoppable.

Match day is always special in Cardiff, but the sight of Henson’s Hill and a crowd of biblical proportions packed around its giant screen was something else.

Inside the Millennium Stadium Press Room, I was asked to “find some neutrals” for a quick radio chat. It was a particular joy to ask former England international and Sunday Telegraph columnist Paul Ackford for his views. Stuart Barnes had written before that year’s tournament that Wales may be the surprise package but could be let down by their “soft underbelly”. So I asked him whether he thought we now had “a good firm six-pack”. He laughed and gave an enthusiastic verdict on our chances.

Out in the stands the atmosphere was wonderfully raucous. The fans had obeyed the call to empty their last pub pint and take their seats in good time. Max revved them into a frenzy with his re-mastered classic. The opening couplets captured the collective mood: “…my nerves are in a state. We haven’t had a day like this since 1978,” he sang.

Then he joined Charlotte Church and Katherine Jenkins for the anthem, both girls in snug-fitting red jerseys with a hint of midriff on show. The anthem was loud enough to blast O’Driscoll’s men back to Dublin.

I kept in text touch with my brother – who had landed a ticket an hour before kick-off – in the opposite stand. “Wales by 20” beeped his message. He kept popping up on the big screen with his arms around a gang of lads in Grand Slam T-shirts screaming their heads off. It’s a clip that made the souvenir DVD and still turns up on montages – I even saw it on the telly in a rugby club in Canada once.

Memories of the match itself revolve around several distinct images: a nonchalant drop goal from Henson; Gethin Jenkins charging down O’Gara’s clearance kick and dribbling the ball to the line; Shane cheekily gesturing to his backline as if conducting a swing band and Rob Sidoli having a great scrap on the touchline with Paul O’Connell. And then there was the score in the 60th minute that gift-wrapped the Grand Slam – Kevin Morgan’s try, set up by Tom Shanklin off one of the wonderful angles he’d been running all afternoon. Mike Ruddock’s ecstatic face filled the screen.

The final moments were a kind of beautiful bedlam, the entire stadium on its feet bellowing “Wales! Wales! Wales!” They were already advertising the souvenir T-shirts with a minute to go.

Full time and I had tears in my eyes when my favourite player Martyn Williams booted the ball into touch. Those of us who were just children, or not even born, the previous time Wales conquered Europe had our definitive “I Was There..” experience at last. And just like the generation before us, we’ve got a taste for Grand Slam glory now so roll on Saturday….