Right, the Six Nations. Wales. You hear it all the time, yeah? Especially around this time of year. The red dragon stuff, the singing. It’s a big deal. I remember trying to get into it properly once.
Was working this awful temp job, stacking shelves in some massive warehouse out near Newport. Soul-destroying stuff. Anyway, this one year, Wales were doing alright in the Six Nations, and the buzz was massive. Even in that grim warehouse, people were talking about it. Red scarves appearing. That sort of thing.
So, I thought, okay, maybe this is something. Maybe this is what people do. Went to a pub after a shift. Stank of damp and stale beer, but it was heaving. Everyone glued to the screen. The noise was incredible when Wales scored. Like proper, raw shouting.
But here’s the thing that struck me. It felt… forced? Like everyone had to be super passionate. Reminded me of those team-building days my old company used to force on us. You know, ‘forced fun’. Everyone pretending to love building a raft out of barrels when we all just wanted to go home. The boss clapping like a seal, telling us how great the ‘team spirit’ was. Felt a bit like that in the pub. A lot of noise, but I wondered how much was real enjoyment and how much was just… going along with it because it’s Wales and it’s rugby.
Maybe I’m just cynical. That warehouse job probably didn’t help my mood, to be fair. Saw a guy get fired for dropping a pallet of beans. Just like that. One minute stacking, next minute out the door. Cheery place.
So yeah, Wales and the Six Nations. Big passionate thing for lots of people. I saw it up close. Still not sure I totally get it, you know? Felt a bit like another thing people just latch onto. Like those managers latching onto buzzwords. Synergy. Blue-sky thinking. Same energy, different context maybe?
Didn’t go back to watch another game after that. Just wasn’t for me. Stuck to my headphones in the warehouse after that day.
