Wales v Scotland: Preamble (mostly irrelevant)

I have been to football matches before. I have gone to see Arsenal (my team), Millwall (my dad’s team) and England (the local national side). But never have I been asked to remove my bottle top. I mean, if the man at the door had asked me to do the same thing only without the word ‘bottle’ in it, he could probably have got himself arrested.

There were Scotsmen all over the place in Cardiff town centre on Friday night but Wales was strongly represented too. I was only there looking for a late night chemist (my contact lens solution had leaked out of its case) but it was a great atmosphere. Very friendly and jovial (except for the nasty man in the shop I went in) but not scarily drunk. The Wales rugby team had a relatively narrow victory last night but it was still a reason to party. I can only assume the Scots were prematurely celebrating beating Wales – oh well, it’s not like they could have celebrated after the match!

I have to admire the Scots for one thing though. The atmosphere in the stadium helped to keep me warm but so no doubt did my trousers, thick socks and Gareth Bale Wales shirt. But the Scots were sitting there in their tiny little kilts and no tights as far as I could tell (not that I looked too closely). They must have been frozen. Especially if they weren’t wearing any pants.

I just hope I won’t go to Hell for wearing a Tottenham player’s name on the back of my Wales shirt. In my defence Aaron Ramsey was still an under-21 when I got it and it’s not as though Gareth has helped Tottenham to win loads of games.

The Cardiff City Stadium was beautiful – not like the Emirates but not far off. They need to put mirrors in the toilets though. I bet there are millions of mirrors in the dressing rooms - although the footballers I’ve seen doing their hair on the pitch seem able to do it without a mirror. Not that I usually do my hair on arriving at the football match (I have more important things on my mind) but it was pouring with rain and the wind was so strong, my umbrella broke and my hair clip was hanging off. You couldn’t even see your reflection in the sink or in the tiles. I wanted to hang around the Players’ Entrance afterwards but I was scared I had mascara on my nose. I did get a lot of funny looks and it looked like Gareth Bale was staring at me at one point so there must have been something wrong.

I wasn’t that happy with the stadium staff. I can see why they wanted me to remove my bottle top but there’s no need for the guy to walk up to me and tell me I’ve got issues. I know I’ve got issues, I don’t need him to point them out to me. Also, if they’re going to take people’s bottle tops away, they should at least provide either some sort of alternative non-violent bottle top or they should offer me a plastic cup which is sturdier than a bottle, ideally one with a lid like you get at McDonalds. I’d pay extra for that, especially if they were nice and didn’t mention my issues.

I had to walk past a lot of men in kilts to get to my seat, which was a bit worrying. What if I’d bought a ticket in the away end by mistake? Would I have to keep completely silent so they wouldn’t kill me? But soon after the match started I realised the people next to me and in front of me were all Wales fans. I was sitting just to the left of the technical area, a few rows from the front, about halfway between the centre circle and the goal the Wales players scored into. So I got a pretty good view of all three goals.