This week a gentleman who I got to know on a personal level sadly passed away. On numerous occasions I met Dai Davies, the former Wales international goalkeeper, who played his club football for Everton, Swansea, Wrexham and Bangor City – and yes, there are many stories to tell.
I first saw Wales play back in 1973. It was at the Racecourse ground against Scotland, where Gary Sprake was in goal. Dai made his debut away against Hungary in April 1975 before going on to achieve 20 clean sheets in 52 appearances. Dai would only miss six out of the next 57 Wales matches.
By the time of the World Cup qualifier against the USSR at the Racecourse in 1980, I was old enough to attend the match by myself having also been to some friendlies against Northern Ireland and West Germany the previous year. Dai played in the USSR match, whilst another game I attended in which he played was the ill-fated floodlight failure match against Iceland at the Vetch in October 81. We drew 2-2 after being two-up before the floodlights went out. Dai retired from international football in 1982.
I can’t remember the exact year, but I was still in school and attended a football competition at Eirias Park, Colwyn Bay. Dai was in attendance doing some coaching. If you weren’t trying or interested he’d tell you in no uncertain terms. Later on I read his book called ‘Never Say Dai’, it was a great book; honest and funny and you came to the conclusion that he was a very determined character.
Despite his excellent displays at international level, he was sometimes criticised at club level unfairly in some quarters by dropping some crosses and was called Dai the drop but he always overcame the sceptical ones.
I then met Dai in a hotel in Villa Real, Portugal after the Wales friendly in Chaves. All the players and media were present and I was steaming to say the least. I introduced Dai to my friend as Dai the drop and to put it mildly he went ballistic. I made a hasty retreat.
Our paths crossed again when I was called to be a studio guest on the S4C football show ‘Sgorio’ alongside – yes, you’ve guessed it – Dai Davies.
He was already in the make-up room when I had to sit next to him to get my make-up done. He offered his big hand out to say hello and he said “have we met before?”. I said yes but I don’t want to tell you where, he smiled and said “oh, go on” – I preceded to say “nah, forget it”, he said “go on, I won’t bite you..”
I was thinking to myself “do I tell him?”, the whole night could then be a disaster, he could go ballistic, I then plucked up some courage and said “I called you Dai the drop in Portugal.”
It’s at this point he stopped the make-up woman, got up and gave me a big smile, laughed and shook my hand, “at least you told me to my face” he laughed.
Image from that episode of Sgorio.
Before, during and after the show he was the ultimate gentleman by guiding me through the night and telling me anytime you want some help or advice to just ask. That night summed him up – gwr bonheddig, a true gentleman.
We met on numerous occasions after that at Welsh Premier League games and he was an FAW guest at Cefn Druids when they started touring the country to meet fans; he was an excellent guest and had many a story to tell.
Sadly, the last time I saw him was a chance meeting in Llangollen. I’d stopped on a cycle ride in a shop and brought my bike inside the store. Dai was inside shopping and we greeted each other, but things took a turn for the worse when a shop assistant got angry about my bike being in the shop.
He came to my defence told me take my bike out and he duly paid for my goods, we then had a sit down outside putting the world to right. He asked if I wanted anything as I was far from home.. That is the final time I saw him and as usual he was a true gentleman.
As football continues to be played behind closed doors, Tommie Collins looks into whether the special connection between us football fans, our teams and the beloved game is slowly being lost, or was it in fact already lost some time ago..
Do you remember the very first time you attended a football match in the flesh? Was it a relative who took you or were you old enough to go on your own?
In the early seventies, I remember my uncle taking me down the Traeth to see Porthmadog in pre-season friendlies against Tranmere Rovers and Stoke City. He also took to my first ever Wales game at the Racecourse circa ’73, then to see Chelsea for the first time at Hereford circa ‘76.
These are all good memories since replicated with my kids. Taking my daughter aged two to Villa Park for the last game of the season which Chelsea drew, I remember holding her hand walking up the steps through the tunnel. When witnessing the vast stadium, she stopped and kneeled down seemingly in awe at the stadium. I then took my two boys to their first games at Torquay and Blackburn Rovers respectively. Another highlight for me was taking my eldest lad, then age six, to Marseille circa ’99. That I tell you was an experience and a half.
He also came with me aged 10 to the Parc des Princes to see PSG V Chelsea. These games made my kids the fans of today, going to Wales away matches and the occasional Chelsea match.
PSG v Chelsea, Parc de Princes 2004.
Yet why the ‘occasional’ match I hear you ask. Well, time has since seen the experience change with the abundance of live televised games. The odd live game here and there was all well and good. Then with the creation of the Premier League in 1992 came higher ticket prices which prompted the loyal travelling fan to question whether he could afford going, especially with the way it has since developed with silly kick-off times on any day of the week.
Many fans soon realised that they weren’t worthy pundits no more and that the game was in fact being turned into a TV event for the armchair fan, where pubs would be packed to the rafters.
Then with social media since coming into play it really has gone global. We all remember your club having a supporter’s branch in Wales, Ireland, Australia and the USA. Now any person in any country is blessed with a platform to give their own wonderful insight worldwide. Everyone has something to say and an opportunity to be heard which leads to outrage on social media sites.
The old school supporter who got priced out of the game still supports their club and will still go when finances and transport allow. However, the global fan who might be based on the other side of the globe will do nothing but decry the old fan. They spout they are as much of a fan due to getting up at a god forsaken time to complain or lament a manager who possibly won the league the previous May, or who might be a club legend (i.e. Frank Lampard) but according to them he is already burnt toast.
Looking ahead to this upcoming summer’s Euro 2020/21 Championships, currently planned to take place across 12 different countries, this despite being in the midst of a global pandemic.
On 5 March, an announcement will be made on how many fans can attend or whether they will be held behind closed doors – actually, let’s just call it football without fans. Only last week UEFA offered to refund supporters if they didn’t/couldn’t attend this year, but why now? Why not wait until after 5 March to see what that announcement brings, or leave it until April even, where the vaccine situation could have changed things dramatically.
The pandemic has led to enough games being played in empty stadiums worldwide. Being at a live game allows you to criticise loudly, support and go ballistic when your team scores. One of my most recent games before the pandemic was Tottenham away at the their excellent new stadium. Chelsea came out on top and, even at my age, it meant something to be present.
“The game was made for supporters to attend, not for a watching TV audience which sadly it has since become.”
The train journey down, socialising pre-match, the buzz entering the ground, jumping like a madman when we scored, even at home watching Wales or Chelsea I could get emotional with a crowd there, but now I like many others sit there unattached, hardly watching the game.
Additionally, for years now there’s been a live game almost every night – it has been saturated to the point where I rarely watch a live game unless it involves Wales or Chelsea. But to the armchair fan, it’s sheer bliss and for UEFA to even contemplate playing the Euros without fans is nothing short of scandalous.
Ah but you might say ‘they’ve already cancelled it once remember therefore needs be’, so what – why won’t they cancel it again until 2022, then move the Qatar World Cup (another thorny issue in my backside) back another year. The game was made for supporters to attend, not for a watching TV audience which sadly it has since become.
When UEFA’s inevitable ‘behind closed doors’ announcement comes on 5 March, I will then reluctantly watch the televised games at the Euros. However, I already know I just won’t be able to celebrate the same as if I was there.
Is it just me? Is it my age? Is it that I was brought up in the pre-live game era? Whatever it is, it’s currently a dismally soulless experience
As Wales look forward to Euro 2020, Tommie Collins went to interview the only player to score four goals in a match for Wales.
The Welsh national football team has probably had three world class players; namely John Charles, Ryan Giggs and most recently Gareth Bale. We’ve also had very good striker called Ian Rush, albeit none of the above achieved what a striker who only played four times for his country managed – scoring four goals in a game.
Ian Edwards, born in Rossett near Wrexham, scored 63 goals in 214 games for West Bromwich Albion, Chester, Wrexham and Crystal Palace, before retiring at the age of 28. He then managed Mold Alexandra and Porthmadog. The ex-Wales international that scored four goals in four appearances for his country now runs a hotel in the seaside town of Criccieth.
“It’s funny really, I didn’t play centre forward until I was 16. Our PE teacher knew someone from Rhyl so he took me and a local lad Steve Edwards who played for Wales schoolboys. I played for Rhyl in the Welsh system then the Cheshire league; I used to get paid in that league.”
Fedora
“Lots of clubs were in for me when I was 15, Joe Mercer from Man City came to our house with Malcolm Allison, I don’t know if he had his fedora on as I was still in bed. Man Utd, Burnley and Luton also wanted to sign me as an apprentice, but I decided to stay in school and carried on playing for Rhyl. At the end of sixth form West Bromwich Albion came in for me and I went but, it was a mistake really as I should have gone three years earlier. I was playing catch up; the others had been there three years. Asa Hartford, John Trewick, Len Cantello, Willie Johnstone, Bryan Robson, John Wile and Joe Mayo, who I’m still friends with.”
Ian Edwards was playing before the days of the Bosman ruling came into force in 1995. The Bosman ruling meant that players could move to a new club at the end of their contract without their old club receiving a fee. Players can now agree a pre-contract with another club for a free transfer if the players’ contract with their existing club has six months or less remaining.
“I was on £35 a week when I started, it wasn’t bad but wasn’t life changing, my dad earned the same in his job as a draughtsman. What you don’t realise is that you become their property; I signed a two year contract and started playing in the reserves. I didn’t think I was doing very well, they were now in the 2nd division, when I went to ask for a pay rise they said you signed a two year contract, which had an option of another two which meant they could keep you for that period of time on the same money, after that they kept your registration, a bit like slave labour.
“There were no agents then which meant you had to go in and negotiate with the Chairman and Manager; they would say you’re lucky to have that, even though you were doing well they wouldn’t tell you. I left in November of 1976; they were now in the first division I doubled my money by going to Chester which was ridiculous. I left because I was 21, travelling with the first team, I was only playing once every three weeks, those days if you were sub, which I was a lot, they weren’t keen to put you on in case someone got injured. It’s not like where there are big squads and everyone is well paid, they had you and if you kicked off you’d be back in the reserves or the third team.”
Injury problems
“Soon as I went to Chester I started scoring but within two months I did my knee in at Rotherham. Their keeper, Tom McAlister, came out and caught me as I scored, my knee buckled backwards and I was never right again, it’s still hurting me now.
“But them days they didn’t put them in plaster, they had me playing in about three weeks running up and down stairs to strengthen it. I was 21 when it happened and 28 when I finished. I’d had five different operations on the same knee, today’s technology would certainly have helped me, they just kept giving me cartilage operations. I had three full ones, and there was stuff left from before – basically, I think they were experimenting. Now it’s a keyhole – them days it was a six-inch cut.”
On the treatment table
“Being injured at a football club is terrible, all the time I was at Wrexham I was injured, because I went there with an injury, I’m sure they were hoping it would clear but it never did. They get annoyed, you know you’re a burden when you’re on the treatment table, the physio doesn’t like you as he knows he can’t make you better, the manager doesn’t like you because you’re not playing and you’re not happy, because all you want to do is play. We know it’s a short career and you think you can achieve something.
“So for about three years before finishing I didn’t train much, I just went in and, I was breathing through my ass, I was knackered you need to be fit to play. It was the second division which is now the championship and I was taking pain killers to get me through.”
Chester > Wrexham
There is a fierce cross border rivalry between Chester and Wrexham and not many players get accepted when they make the move, although Gary Bennett is one that was accepted at both clubs probably for his goal scoring prowess.
“If you lived in Mold, where there was a lot of Chester fans, it was no big deal, it’s more so now this nastiness between them, it’s not a good move to go from Chester to Wrexham because the Chester fans don’t like you for going and the Wrexham fans don’t like where you came from and vice versa – it’s up to you to convince them.”
And convince them he did with a stunning goal for Wrexham at Derby which won the Goal of the Month in the September 1980/81 season.
“It should have been the goal of the season. Tony Morley won it for his goal at Everton. Ivan Golac’s goal for Southampton was a cracker as well. I was always good at volleying and the previous midweek I scored a left foot volley at Newtown, it was better than the Derby one. It was instinctive.”
Wales
It was during his spells with Chester and Wrexham that Edwards made his four Welsh appearances.
“I got picked for Wales U21 in Edinburgh against Scotland, along with Peter Sayer as he was a good foil for me. Not being quick, I could win the balls in the air and flick them on to him. I was 22 but still eligible for the U21’s and the Scottish team had some good players in the squad.
“It didn’t start well as during the train journey up to Scotland I got in a conversation in the buffet bar with a guy who was going clam diving off a boat. We chatted for ages, the train had stopped for a while in the middle of nowhere, next thing the train pulls into Glasgow Central, I said goodbye to my new friend and realised there was something wrong – I thought what’s happened here? I was told in the middle of nowhere the train splits in half, with one going to Edinburgh and the other Glasgow, so when I came off the train I was arrested as I had no ticket, anyway I explained the situation and the police all took the piss out of me. They took me in a Black Maria across Glasgow to the station that goes to Edinburgh; I arrived four hours after everyone else.
“The manger at the time Mike Smith wasn’t impressed, he eventually started to laugh and I told him well really someone should have told me the train splits in half. Anyway, we played the game and soon after I got called up for the Malta game. Robbie James made his debut; he was a quality player, and he played up front with me – he could hold the ball up well. John Toshack was coming to the end of his career; he’d had injuries, so really it was open for me. If I had been fit enough, it was there for me, on the weekend of that game when I scored four I scored for Chester against Reading and two the week after. In the space of ten days I scored more than I did in some seasons. I scored nine goals then and after the two goals against Hull I had another knee operation on the Sunday. I didn’t think I needed another operation but just probably a rest.
“I was out again, all these breaks were affecting me, you need two or three games to come back from injury, I can see it with players now they’re off the pace, I wasn’t blessed with pace thus I couldn’t come on and make an impact. I could hold the ball, head the ball and score goals, but I wasn’t going to come on and do a David Fairclough.
Kuwait
“Kuwait away, it was very hot, Graham Williams came to pick me up, and I knew him from my West Brom days. He was captain of the WBA team who won the FA Cup in 1968 and he was managing a team out there. Kuwait isn’t a country – in reality, it’s a city. We stayed in beach side apartments in 100 degrees heat, I came on as sub, a good experience, a funny place, smashed up sports cars were left on the side of the road. Maseratis and all – more money than sense.
“I‘d already played schoolboy, youth and U21 level so I was used to representing my country. If you do well, you’re going to play for your country aren’t you? You’ve got to be honest as a footballer, it’s a selfish existence and you do it for yourself, you’re not doing it for Wales. Like now, I’ve got no interest in some of the teams I played for. They paid my wages, I look at their results. They’re not interested in me neither.
As the Red Wall are planning their trips to the Euros this summer, only fans of a certain age will remember Edwards’ feat.
“In my only full cap I scored four. I had a good goal disallowed, they said I pushed the defender but I was stronger than him, I kept the match ball got it signed and then I gave it to the kids to play football with. When I came to Criccieth, I found some shirts; one had been in a suitcase since 1989. My lad Rhys has the shirt from the Malta game and he’s going to frame it.
“We played Germany at home and Toshack came on and replaced me, I had a knee in my back the previous weekend; I was in pain and had a cortisone injection. They (Germany) were miles better than us at the time, they had some team, they were also ahead of us with the fouling game, they were holding on to me throughout the game, I’ve never been fouled so much in a game. The centre-half was a man marker, just held on to me, I should have battered him early on – but you’re frightened of being sent off. When you’re playing against a team that’s better than you they have the possession, you’re chasing and I wasn’t the quickest to be doing that. I needed us to have possession to be playing further up field. It was such a big gap, they had players like Karl Heinz Rummenigge, Uli Stielike, Klaus Fischer, Manfred Kaltz – he was brilliant.
Byron Stevenson was controversially sent off in Turkey in 1979 after he allegedly fractured opponent Buyak Mustafa’s cheekbone. He was given a four-and-a-half year European ban, effectively ending his international career.
“I played against Turkey where we lost 1-0 in Izmir. It was a holiday resort, the road was full of potholes, and you could lose a bus in them – also a very hostile place. One of our players, Byron Stevenson who died in 2007, broke a blokes nose and they went crazy. Mike Smith asked him did you do it he, said ‘no’, but Joey Jones said that he did. It nearly caused a riot and we couldn’t go out after. I went to Iran, in one stand there was only the Shah and machine guns everywhere. I was sub, and it was part of the job.”
End of the footballing road
“I joined Crystal Palace on a free from Wrexham and they were relegated. I could have stayed if I’d taken a pay cut but I had another operation as I’d fractured the orbit of my eye in two places. I had two spells of six weeks on the sidelines, and then I came back for the last two games of the season and scored the goal that kept Palace up. It was the last time I kicked a ball; we won 1-0 so Burnley went down – Alan Mullery was the manager and he was great with me, although the Palace fans weren’t keen because he came from Brighton.
“I came back home to Wrexham. Some clubs wanted me, Twente Enschede asked me to go there, and some other Dutch clubs were interested, but my knee was hurting. I went to Walsall and played a practice game, Kevin Summerfield was there, I’d played with him at WBA, and they asked me to go back. My knee was swollen, I couldn’t go back, you can’t tell people I’ll sign but only play on a Saturday, so I just went downstairs and decided that’s it I’m retiring; it was a relief.
“There was no point in trying to be fit. I never got dropped at Palace, same at Wrexham really, at 28 I wasn’t in a position to go into football, it’s not like today where there is backroom staff, and it was only the manager and his mate.”
Milkman
“I had to do something quickly to earn some money as I had a family to support, I started a milk round in Wrexham and did all right, and I sold it after a few years and bought a hotel in Criccieth. The knees were all right on the round and I played for Mold in the Welsh National League but they got promoted to the League of Wales (now the Welsh Premier League). My knees wouldn’t have coped at that level, I was only going at half pace, I was fit but I wouldn’t have coped full pace, then I went to Porthmadog, but that’s another story…
“I did some work at Llanystumdwy with the kids and would watch my boys play but soon after they came off I’d go home – I’d sooner play golf than watch football these days. Football has changed. You need a sugar daddy these days. Money is the be all and end all, that is why the richest clubs are where they are.
“Even though I said I’d rather play golf than watch football, I like many others thought Wales were brilliant at the Euros and they should have qualified for the World Cup. With players like Joe Allen, Gareth Bale and Aaron Ramsey there shouldn’t have been a hangover. It should have been exuberance, and we should have been thinking we’re top four in Europe.”
Sam Ricketts has left his position as manager of Wrexham AFC to join Shrewsbury Town in League One, ending the strangest managerial switch I’ve ever known as a Dragons fan.
From the news emerging on Friday night that Ricketts was close to agreeing a deal at Montgomery Waters Meadow, to the decision on Saturday morning that he wouldn’t take charge of Wrexham’s FA Cup match against Newport later that evening, it’s been a surreal story to watch unfold.
Ricketts only took charge at the Racecourse in May after the Wrexham board plucked the former Welsh international out of the Wolves academy, where he was their under-18’s coach. He went on to build upon the record-breaking defence assembled by predecessor Dean Keates – adding more creativity and control in midfield – and led Wrexham to the top of the National League table and into the second round of the FA Cup by early November.
During the same period, over the border, Shrewsbury Town were regressing from play-off finalists to relegation candidates under the guidance of John Askey. I was at Askey’s final game in charge of the Shrews – a 1-1 draw in the first round of the FA Cup at home against Salford. Following the result, large sections of the Salop faithful made it very clear that they’d seen enough from their manager and demanded he left the club. I had no idea that it would start a chain of events leading them to poach our gaffer.
Even when news first emerged that Ricketts was among the favourites to take over at Shrewsbury, I didn’t believe it would happen. It didn’t make sense for anyone. Shrewsbury had just sacked the last National League-winning manager – a task that took Askey five years to achieve at Macclesfield – while Ricketts was only four months and 20-odd games into his entire first-team career. I truly believed that one, if not both, of the parties would conclude that he’s not yet ready for the step up. How very wrong I was.
Ricketts’ departure is now the second time a Wrexham manager has left for a League One club this calendar year, following Keates’ move to his boyhood team Walsall in March. Although I felt heartbroken when he went, I understood Keates’ reasons for going. Walsall are probably the only team he loves more than Wrexham and I know it was a difficult decision for him to make. He even sent a message to the supporters saying he’d pay his club membership for life.
With Ricketts, I’m not heartbroken at all. I never really warmed to the guy other than when we beat Gateshead to top the table and he gave a double-handed celebration to the crowd. That was the only sign of passion I saw him give. Yes, he was vocal on the touchline but it felt more professional than anything emotive. His interviews were much the same. He never seemed to be as gutted about losing as I was. It frustrated me but I trusted his abilities and the progress we were making.
Now that frustration is my lasting memory of Ricketts and, in the bigger picture, reflects my feelings towards football as a whole. Loyalty is seemingly dead in the modern game and it’s not just from the managers either. I know that if Ricketts had been struggling at the bottom end of the table six months on from his appointment, in all likelihood, he would have been relieved of his duties by the club. Askey suffered that very fate having taken over at Shrewsbury in the summer and then getting sacked months later.
Sam Ricketts during his short spell at the Racecourse
Nowadays, it’s very rare to find managers with long stints at one club. A craving for instant success has been built across the footballing spectrum that’s killing the fun. Take, for instance, the so-called ‘top six’ in the Premier League. Each team wants to finish in the Champions League spots, yet there are only four places available. That means when two, inevitably, don’t make it, their season is deemed a disaster and their manager is often replaced. It’s such an unsustainable approach and there are similar scenarios happening in divisions further down.
Based on this, it’s no wonder Keates and Ricketts took the opportunity to work higher up when they had the chance. With a lot of managers sacked after a poor run of results, the threat of being forgotten about is only five or six defeats away. But how do we stop this managerial merry-go-round?
One suggestion I’ve seen from a fellow frustrated Wrexham fan, is introducing a rule where you can’t leave a position until a certain percentage of time is up on your contract – and making sure that applies to those who wish to remove a person from their job as well. So, for example, if someone signs a three-year contract, they can be guaranteed the role for 12 months. After that, it’s fair game.
It seems a shame to have to force loyalty like that but there would be more thought process in moves for everyone involved. Clubs would have to really do their research in deciding who they’d want to bring in rather than hiring stop-gaps. Meanwhile, on the flip side, a manager or player wouldn’t feel the need to jump ship so quickly if they’re guaranteed a certain amount of time at a club they’ve also thoroughly mulled over.
I’m not a legal expert so I’m not even sure if it’s possible to set this up. There would probably have to be clauses for bad behaviour or how many appearances a player makes for the first team but, in principle, I could see it working. But then again, maybe it’s more fulfilling to see a situation such as Sean Dyche’s at Burnley, where both the manager and club stick together despite the lows of relegation and the highs of reaching Europe. Either way, for a Wrexham board that’s given two managers the chance to build a successful career from scratch, it’s surely time to see their faith rewarded.
“I’m not that keen on America. I don’t like their policies and attitude. Anyway we shouldn’t mix politics with sport, should we?”
Tommie Collins talks us through his recent Wales trip to LA.
After a long trip to Nanning in March to see Wales play Uruguay in the China Cup I really didn’t fancy another long trek to Los Angeles to see Wales play a friendly against Mexico but, after negotiating time off work I managed to book a direct flight from Manchester – also the pull of the iconic Rose Bowl stadium was too much.
I’d visited America in 2003 for the friendly in San José where we lost 2-0 with Mathew Jones getting sent off. I’d missed the Mexico match in New York in 2012 due to putting club before country for a change – that’s another story.
Politics
I’m not that keen on America. I don’t like their policies and attitude – but hey ho I went to Israel for the qualifier. Anyway we shouldn’t mix politics with sport, should we?
Due to visiting San Francisco in 2003 I’d chosen to make a short four-night trip this time. I didn’t bother going to Hollywood, I mean why should I want to see some celebrities gate or house. I went to Venice beach which was a very dodgy place, Santa Monica was a nice place with a lovely beach and very clean. Downtown LA was ok; bars with live bands and a tad cheaper than Santa Monica and Pasadena.
Venice Beach. Image: WiLPrZ, Flickr
The day of the game started with an early trek to Pasadena where the Rose Bowl is situated, a good decision I understand as the organised buses that were due to take Wales supporters to the match were late in arriving, with many fans missing kick off – they weren’t happy.
We drank in a couple of pubs owned by the chain called Lucky Baldwin’s, again very expensive – I honestly didn’t realise that it was so expensive, on average we were paying anything from $6 – $10 a pint, well less actually – it’s called a 16, a 22 was dearer. In one place in Santa Monica they charged $10 for a small can of Heineken, they wanted $18 for a pint, the exit door was found quickly: I despaired.
There were nearly 500 Welsh fans there and a few who lived over there were looking for tickets, most made a holiday of it combining Las Vegas or San Francisco. It was good to see kids out there, hopefully they’ve had the bug, and they are the future, also a few had managed to get some groundhopping in by seeing LA Galaxy and LAFC.
Mexicans
After negotiating the crazy traffic on the way to the game we finally arrived at the Rose Bowl. It was a sea of green with the Mexicans having taken up swathes of land with barbecues and music blaring out and beer everywhere. What a friendly bunch they are, wanting to take photos with us, amazed we’d travel all the way. Although they did have a brawl with each other during the game – club rivalry, perhaps?
There were security checks to go in but nothing too severe and beer was on sale inside the ground albeit at a ghastly price of $16, thanks but no thanks – I have my limits!
The Rose Bowl. Image: Tommie Collins
The stadium was impressive, a massive bowl, with great views, obviously quite far from the pitch but at least there were no obstructions. To be honest the atmosphere wasn’t great, the Mexicans were persistent with their now famous wave but the Welsh contingent wouldn’t play ball. Again the Mexicans were friendly, but I wonder how the yanks felt with 80,000 in their stadium. For a 0-0 draw it was a decent match, we had chances and considering we had Bale, Allen, Chester and Ampadu missing we did well and the youngsters who came on did ok.
To see Wales play in the Rose Bowl was another tick off the list but I wish it had been in the Azteca, Mexico City. FAW can you arrange? Next stop Aarhus.
For info – I’ve seen Wales play in 43 different countries and that was my 97th away game. Three more this year possibly to hit the magic 100?
From Porthmadog to South America, with China providing the icing on the cake – or maybe not so much.. Read all about Tommie Collins’ recent venture following his beloved Wales to the China Cup.
After arranging a trip of a lifetime to South America, the Football Association of Wales were invited to play in the China Cup to be held in Nanning. As an avid supporter of my country’s football team I had a decision to make.
I decided not to rearrange my South America venture; thus I would miss the first game in China on the Thursday meaning my latest run of consecutive matches would come to an end. I would fly with my friend from Buenos Aires to Amsterdam overnight and after three hours would fly direct to Hong Kong arriving Saturday morning, thus having two consecutive nights in the air.
So at 08.30 Thursday morning – eleven hours behind China time I would be following the China – Wales match on twitter and receiving updates from family members. My phone was pinging at an alarming rate – six times to be precise as a Gareth Bale hat-trick spurred us on to a relatively easy 6-0 victory. My phone didn’t stop after either as fellow Welsh supporters out in Nanning gleefully asked me have you ever seen Wales win 6-0 away… I despaired.
Hong Kong
After landing in Hong Kong and checking into our hotel we met up with our friends who had chosen HK as their break in-between the two games, some had opted for Thailand, Beijing, Macau and Vietnam. Hong Kong was an eye opener regarding the wealth in the country, all the top designer shops are in town, top of the range cars and beer prices ranging from £7-10 a pint but the happy hours offered after 2pm in virtually all establishments balanced it out by the end of the night, a good night was had.
One night in Hong Kong.
The following morning we had to endure a journey across the border to Shenzhen via metro and train, this is where I started to realise that for me it was a trip too far. The border crossing was a nightmare with constant passport checks, filling in departure and entry cards and stern looks from the Chinese border police, notwithstanding the vast amount of people trying to push through the baggage security check area. After going through the border we arrived at Shenzhen train station and this is where I realised how big this country is. I’d call myself well travelled and was overwhelmed when I visited the USA for the friendly in San José in 2003 and again this place was massive.
Packed train
We queued for the train to Nanning and soon realised that the train was full, and there wasn’t an available train until the 28th, a group from Pwllheli had been in the same situation earlier and had to book flights, the same fate awaited us. Now, we had no Chinese money but eventually found an ATM after some sign language to numerous Chinese people – yes no one spoke English, the sense of failure was overtaking me, I was distraught, the thought of not attending the match was overwhelming – I would have had to abstain from social media for a long period of time.
Busy stations.
I switched on my data roaming (another £6) to receive 4G, and then scoured the internet for flights to Nanning, Sunday night or Monday morning and back to either Hong Kong or Shenzhen Tuesday. There were flights but I couldn’t book over the phone, the mood got better, it had been either go home, or go back to HK but we opted for the airport. A 50 minute journey to the airport cost £12 and we were still in Shenzhen the place was massive. We arrived at the airport, once again welcomed by more security and stern looks, yet we eventually found an English speaking girl at a customer service desk.
“We need flights to Nanning tonight or tomorrow please,” I uttered. There was a flight at 22.25 or a cheaper one Monday morning. The thought of finding a hotel put us off. Therefore, we agreed to pay the price, which shall remain private – after going all the way I would have paid any price!
All was well and we duly arrived in our Nanning hotel at 02.10 am, my friend and I mutually agreed to wipe Sunday 25th March from our memories.
Match day
Monday morning I was up bright and early, it was match day. All I wanted was a beer to get rid of the previous day stress.
Nanning was massive, tall tower blocks, wide streets, hotels all manner of shops, but again no one spoke English, navigation was difficult. The thing that tickled me was the amount of scooters in the road, all kinds of people hurtling down the street in tandem, thousands of them, and at traffic light a battle of will between pedestrians, scooters and cars: mayhem.
Hustle and bustle.
I eventually got hold of Prys from Blaenau Ffestiniog who by the way had a trip of a lifetime, and he told us to meet him in Food Street. This was the China I’d thought of, no road surface, rubbish in the street, dirty, but this was a superb street to have a beer and fun at night I was told. It wasn’t my cup of tea and we moved on to a westernised bar where I enjoyed a nice cold Corona. I was happy and China was good.
We then moved to the bar where coaches would take us to the ground, here I met the young Porthmadog lads who again where having the time of their lives, buckets of Budweiser was bought in and the world was once again ok.
The journey to the match was fine, and when I saw the ground again I was overwhelmed – it is indeed a great stadium. The game itself was decent and we started ok, but Uruguay seemed stronger and ran out deserved 1-0 winners, we are a much better team than say 10 years ago and with the youngsters coming through we could yet again see qualification for another tournament, probably Qatar, but we need a goal scorer – a proven one!
Guangxi Sports Center.
On the journey back to the bar after the match I felt drowsy and was like a nodding dog, the whole trip had caught up with me so I headed for bed, no post-match beer – a rare event.
We were up bright and early for the 08.15 flight back to Shenzhen, and the idea of going through the border again was haunting me, luck was with us, there was a bus £15 from the airport to HK airport, it was seamless, no bag checks just a showing of passports, when we arrived in HK, I felt better, China was behind me.
To summarise, personally I’m glad I went to China, another country ticked off and another Wales away game in the bag – an experience I’ll never forget. If it was a standalone trip I most likely would have enjoyed, but, give me a friendly in South America any day.
I never saw Il Gigante Buono, John Charles, play for obvious reasons. I remember watching Leighton James and Mickey Thomas play for Wales, these players who would excite me, wingers they were know as them days.
Then along came a young Welshman called Ryan Giggs, this kid was the real deal and he was one of us. I along with a few thousand others made the trip to Nuremberg, October 1991 in the hope of seeing a Wales win. As usual back then, they let us down, but there was a glimmer of hope when young Ryan made his debut at the age of 17 years, 321 days to become the youngest player to appear for the Welsh senior team. I and many others thought this was the first of many, it turned to be the mere 64. Sixty bloody four, international stalwarts Robbie Keane had 164 and Gianluigi Buffon had 175.
Sir Alex
I travelled the length and breadth of Europe following Wales in Giggs’ time as a player. My choice, I know, but how do you think we felt when usually at the last minute he would pull out of the squad. I now know that it was due to Sir Alex Ferguson’s insistence, and if, as he assures us, he is a passionate Welshman, he should have told old Taggart to mind his own business.
What was the worst scenario? Transfer list him, put him in the reserves to rot – no chance.
I felt sorry for Welsh managers at the time; Sir Alex was seen to only treat Giggs this way. Whilst we were travelling usually by trains, spending our hard earned cash we felt cheated, betrayed, let down. And yet some fans, ex players, people in the media don’t understand our animosity, frustration towards him. Probably the reason why is that they’re not fans, it’s a job for them. It galls me to be honest.
I remember Giggs as someone who would excite me, them games in the Arms Park, the celebrations, he was my hero, and I even called my son Ryan (although I do say it was after Ryan Jones, Sheffield Wednesday.) I remember a game against Poland at the Millennium Stadium in June 2001, Giggs missed an open-goal as if it was on purpose. During this period, when yes, the players around him were far from his standard, he looked disinterested, hands on hips, not chasing; I was fuming.
Retired
He eventually retired in a Euro 2008 qualifier against the Czech Republic, at a time when I thought we needed him most. We had a promising bunch of youngsters coming through, but oh no, off he went to prolong his career with Manchester United – yes, he is known as Ryan Giggs, Man Utd.
Then to compound matters, he twisted the knife further. One of the biggest concerns among Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland fans was that competing in the Olympics – something that happened in 2012 but was viewed by many as a one-off because London was hosting the Games – could affect the individual nations’ independence within FIFA. Whether those fears have foundation or not, Giggs willingly came out of international retirement to represent Team GB at the London Olympics; it’s irrelevant if I have issues with Team GB, as he and others knew the risk this posed to Wales as an independent international team.
He has since continued to alienate himself from Welsh football fans by being a television pundit during England matches. Does he need the money? No, then why? Why wasn’t he a pundit during Wales games? Answers on a…
Missed Opportunity
So 15 January 2018, Ryan Giggs becomes manager of Wales, to confuse matters and possibly alienate himself further, he doesn’t confirm if a key component of the Welsh set-up, Osian Roberts, will be part of his management team. What a public relations coup it would have been for him to have Osian beside him in his press conference – but no, the rumour mill is in full swing that his old Manchester United mate, Paul Scholes, is being considered… I despair.
I’m being told by Wales football fans that travelled over the English Channel to be part of the red wall, ex players and media people, to back him and support him.
To win me over, I want Giggs to visit Bala, Llanrwst, Pwllheli, Porthmadog, Cardigan, Haverfordwest and so on. I want to see him sing the national anthem with gusto – it means a lot for some of us. I want to see him promote our National League, I want him to take us to another major championship.
An Echo & the Bunnymen song. A song title that runs true to its word, and none more so than when it comes to Chris Coleman and his reign as Wales manager. His tenure, which started badly, came better than anyone could ever have imagined, yet finished on a disappointing note.
Upon resigning as Wales manager, Chris Coleman has taken on a poisoned chalice of a job at Sunderland, and I certainly wish him well. I first met Chris at a McDonalds in Copenhagen after a rare Welsh victory abroad in 1997. I sat next to him and we had a conversation about Wales at that moment in time. He was a real gentleman, no prima donna. Chris was also a very good player, who showed sheer determination overcoming a horrendous car crash, and his retirement in 2002 came as a huge loss for Welsh football.
A few years later, I managed to get Chris down to Porthmadog for a Q&A session. Once again he was a gentleman, as he drove all the way from London and back, showing a real human side by giving time to all who attended.
Chris took on the Wales job in the most exceptional of circumstances, when the country suffered the sudden death of then manager, Gary Speed. At the time there was some fans, mostly of Cardiff City descent, who could not accept him due to his birthplace being Swansea. Since his decision to join Sunderland came known, some have seemingly resurrected.
Chris suffered a poor start as Wales manager. Having lost his first five games, culminating in that 6-1 Serbian thrashing at Novi Sad in 2012, he admitted he needed to do it his way from then on.
The vultures were swarming; he looked a beaten man. Fans were split, but after Gareth Bale’s super strike at a sodden Cardiff City Stadium against Scotland in 2012, he celebrated wildly. We soon realised he was one of us; it is one of my best memories of Coleman as manager. It was the moment when it all came together for us.
That goal from Bale was the turning point. We were wet and miserable, Scottish fans were sat amongst us, yet our dampened moods soon turned to ecstasy when the ball flew into the top corner, and the jocks soon disappeared out of sight.
Our form remained up and down, but another win on Scottish soil in a snowy reverse fixture kept Chris on board with the fans. Results were fluctuating between mediocre and bad, culminating in a horror show in Macedonia where we lost 2-1. Chris didn’t help himself, as he nearly never made the trip with his passport being mislaid. Again, some fans were showing signs of disapproval.
The seeds of what was to blossom came with a deserved 1-1 draw against Belgium in October 2013. Harry Wilson came off the bench to become the youngest player to represent Wales at the age of 16 years 207 days. A minute later, Aaron Ramsey equalised and the away end went mental – he and his team were heroes. We never looked back. We were marching towards France and Euro 2016.
I was very fortunate to be in Bosnia to see us qualify and witnessing Coleman celebrating with us at the end was immense. He’d transformed us from perennial losers to Euro 2016 finalists. He’d made grown men cry, as along with about 800 others, I had tears in my eyes and it was down to Chris Coleman, his backroom staff and players.
France itself was a dream, for the old-stagers, qualifying was all we wanted, but to get to the semi-final of a major international tournament was beyond our wildest dreams. But we overachieved, we played well away in Israel, yet stumbled over the line. We then followed that up by playing magnificently in the Russia and Belgium games in France, but the semi-final against Portugal was a game too far.
Wales fans at Euro 2016, France.
The World Cup group for Russia 2018 pitted us against Serbia, Austria, Republic of Ireland, Georgia and Moldova. Many commentators and fans thought it was an easy group as we weren’t paired with one of the giants of world football, like France or Germany.
We played well in most games but conceded late goals. It seemed that some players thought we could just turn up and trounce to victory. We were lucky to escape with a point at home to Georgia. Chris, for me, was too pragmatic and too loyal to some players. It seemed that the #TogetherStronger hashtag was literally too strong to break.
In the end, despite a late run which saw us put play-off destiny in our own hands, we failed to qualify. A defeat at home to the Irish, followed by a friendly defeat to France and a home draw to Panama saw Chris’ tenure flop at the last.
I genuinely wish Chris would have stayed, as I felt he owed us and himself another campaign, and with the likes of Ethan Ampadu, Ben Woodburn and David Brooks coming through, possibly he would have played a more attacking system and taken Wales on another unforgettable journey.
So, I would like to thank Chris for giving us some fantastic memories, yet the feeling of what might have been remains. As Ian McCulloch of Echo & the Bunnymen sang:
‘Not the promises of what tomorrow brings
I need to live in dreams today.’
Football Foyer 
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