Of course, this modern malarkey is a far cry from the sport of my youth.

I remember when rugby didn't have fans at all, because the entire town used to be actively involved in the game. To score a try, one half of the town had to transport a raw pigs bladder from Griffith's farm gate all the way across the village to Penrhys bridge while the other half of the town had to stop them at all costs.

Sometimes the game would last up to 4 days as hundreds townsfolk wrestled and rolled around in the mud, punching each other in the mouth and kicking each other to death.

Of course, things were black and white in those days so there were plenty of comical moments where one team thought they'd scored a try only to find the 'ball' they were using was old man Blenkinsop's colostomy bag!

'Ow we laffed as we tended to t' injured and dying folk who had taken part in t' game.