A number of years ago, my other half was popping over for a rare visit, so she got a flight to Cardiff Airport. I headed over to meet her.
It was a rubbish day - cold, wet, and foggy as fuck. Predictably, the flights started getting diverted here there and everywhere.
I stayed in the terminal for an hour or so until the airline had decided what to do, and once they’d firmed up their travel plans and shuttle back to Cardiff, it turned out I had two or three hours to kill I thought “sod it, I’m off to knock some balls about at a driving range or something”.
As I headed down the steps into the entrance concourse, I saw the whole area was lined with press and photographers, and as I walked through, the entirety of the Wales national rugby team started coming through the doors. It was surreal - a wall of similarly dressed dudes who you usually only see on TV, and I’m stuck square in the middle walking against the tide with a courtesy “alright boys” to get me through.
For an instant, I was probably the most photographed random dude in the country, and probably ruined dozens of photos. It was cool as fuck though.
That is cool. Wales are the team I love to hate, but I’d still have been starstruck and chuffed to bits!
It’s alright, they’re my national team too and I love to hate them too 🤣
I mean, I know they’re pro athletes in a contact sport so they’re naturally going to be bigger units than your average sportsperson, but it was hard not to be impressed by the sheer presence they had as a team walking six-wide through the concourse.
I doubt they had to wait for half hour in a check-in line, and put their bags in the crate to made sure it fit in the hand luggage restrictions either!
I know what you mean. I met Stephen Jones ( former Wales fly half, not opinionated rugby journo) once and was amazed at how wide he was. He always looked fairly normal on the telly next to all those giants, but there was plenty of him!
