All posts by Davster

“You’re all my bitches” says Optimism Gnome

The nation’s relationship with its magical bringer of hwyl has reached a new low when once again he promised a nutsack tingling victory over England but left us with the kind of empty hollow agony not seen since Mel Gibson had his intestines scooped out and stir-fried in Braveheart.

The Optimism Gnome spoke exclusively to Gwlad from a toadstool near his home in Mabinogiland. “I woke up last Saturday in Caroline Street underneath a pile of chip papers, with a head full of Reverend James and ribs aching from the kicking I took from valley commandos pointing how it was all my fault. Really?”

“Well look. I’ve been doing this for longer than most of you have been alive; in all weathers, no matter what the last result was – even in the 90s! So this time I’ve sat it out. That’s right. Noticed how quiet it’s been? Doesn’t quite work does it? All of a sudden, without my tingle-dust, the Western Mail front page, the Max Boyce CD and the goat all seem a bit flat and silly don’t they? Suddenly, you’re all thinking Scotland will win and you’re wondering if you should go and do some shopping, or make some cakes or wash the car instead.”

“Let’s be clear about this: It’s not too late. I’m sat here waiting and gently rubbing my nipples to get the G-forces going. I have my lucky pants on and a sack full of tingle-dust. All it takes is with your first beer of the day, you close your eyes tight, and before your first swig, you whisper “Oh, this is going to be the try of the Championship”. I’m saying that rubbing your nipples will help too, especially the girls – that will really help. Otherwise, you know what, I’ll just get a pizza in and abuse some cats. I’m waiting for your call”

Gatland promises end to In-Game Laptop Pornography

Solemn soul-searching after ‘Two Girls, One Cup’

Enough is enough declared Wales coach Warren Gatland as he admitted that his staff using the internet to watch streamed pornographic videos on work time may have had some adverse affect on the team’s performance of late.

Gatland had sanctioned the extra-curricular use of internet during game time sometime in 2009 to cover periods of tedious resetting of scrums and Wales possession resulting in 20 phases for a net loss of territory. ‘Angry Birds’ and Gwlading soon graduated to online poker and evony, but the traditional post-Lions tour comedown saw things take a turn for the worst with an increase in porn; starting with gentle stuff you could see on ‘Hollyoaks Later’ but soon veering towards material involving Puerto Ricans in Miami villas that had clearly been broken-into.

Towards the end of games that had become lost causes, TV viewers could clearly see the team focussing with increasing dismay at overweight German housewives crushing helpless tradesmen with a strange resemblance to Terry McDermott, and reacting with clear anger at south-east Asians girls with Jamie Roberts jawlines and a middle-stump.

The watershed moment came during last week’s England game when the team decided to see what all the fuss was about with the notorious chocolate ice-cream advert ‘Two Girls, One Cup’. Visibly shaken by the experience, the team sat in bemused silence for some time before Gatland’s realisation that this all had to stop. Such was his revulsion at what some women will do for crack or softmints, some moments later he was noticeably treating microphone-harpie Sonja McLaughlan as if she were a passable example of decent humanity

Nation receives visit from the Optimism Gnome

If you’ve woken up today in a strangely chipper mood despite crying yourself to sleep last night and having horrific dreams about Dylan Hartley, you are not alone. Once again, the nation has been visited in the night by the Optimism Gnome, squeezing through your catflap, climbing up your stairs, hoisting himself onto your bed and panting with excitement, whispering the Bill McLaren commentary to Gareth Edwards’ 1972 try against Scotland in your ear, and even laying out your lucky pants for the morning. The Optimism Gnome loves us, and we love him.

Some say he’s from a fairy land and passes between worlds via a bus shelter on the A48 outside Cowbridge. Some say that the Brynteg miners dug too deep and released the grateful little chap from a prison of anthracite in 1954. Some say he’s the love child of Father Christmas and Ruth Madoc. Some say the things he does to your cat on the way out can’t be helped. All we know is that the jingling bell on his hat on the eve of every international results in a nation waking up on match-day wanting to strip to its birthday suit, cover itself in woad and run into the street shouting “I’ll take you all on!”

Okay, maybe we haven’t won in ages – so we’re due a win. Fair enough, we’re missing two lions from the front row – but you can’t scrum on the millennium mud anyway. Good point that ‘give it Jamie Roberts’ is the only plan – but hey, some of us remember the 90s when we didn’t even have a plan.

So this is it, boys and girls – Six Nations time again. Time to hoist the flag, set phasers to ‘baritone’, slip on your best drinking trousers and leave nothing on the training paddock! Thank you, Optimism Gnome. You’re the best!

Gatland possessed by the spirit of Steve Irwin

The wandering restless soul of Steve Irwin has taken up residence in Wales Coach Warren Gatland it was revealed yesterday.

The over-exhuberant Aussie entertainer died in 2006 as a result of over-provoking a stingray and had been assumed to have passed over to the other side, or come back as a water vole or whatever. The revelation that he has been occupying Gatland and exerting his will on the possessed will come as a shock to many – particularly those who firmly believe that once you die, you just sort of turn into a mulch of insects and bile.

However, those who watch Gatland closely – and there probably is a HND course in it somewhere – are now piecing together curious past behaviour and presenting the startling evidence that Irwin has been manipulating the silver-haired antipodean bulldog for a long period of time.

The assertion in 2009 that all his players ‘hated’ the Irish (and not just the socially acceptable revulsion of Ronan O’Gara) ahead of a daunting trip to Croke Park is, according to those who knew the Australian wildlife buffoon best, ‘Classic Irwin’.

“Stevo would go looking for the naaaastiest beasts out there” said a friend, “The really evil ones that could bite you on your toe and within seconds your organs would be exploding out of every hole. Stevo would find one and poke it the arse with a stick, call it a poof in front of its mates and laugh in its face when it got mad. What a fella!”

The latest in a series of “What is he doing?” moments came this week when Gatland decided to publicly point out to unlikeable liability Dylan Hartley that he is unlikeable and a liability. Experts agree that in the remaining days before the Wales v England game, even slow-thinkers like Hartley will make a significant effort to take such criticism on board, react to it positively and insert it – neatly packaged – firmly into Gatland’s fundament. Again, “Classic Irwin” says the Aussie lunatic’s cameraman.

“Everyone loved Stevo’s guts”, he reminisced. “Making a croc or a snake mad is the sort of telly everyone loves, and boy could he make ‘em lose it. What no-one saw was the bastard give it gas when the snake went mental, leaving me and the sound guy to lose another finger. Classic Irwin!”

Wales supporters are braced for expert predictions of more forthcoming ‘Irwinisms’. “Expect Gatland to claim the Scottish back row are a bit laboured, the Italians poor scrummagers, that O’Driscoll fella to be past his best and the French a big bomb of ill-discipline ready to go off at any point in a shower of yellow cards, garlic and poncey cigarettes. For him, it’s all about finding the biggest thing that can bite you, poking it with a stick, then finding the best seat in the house to watch your mates get chased by it for 80 minutes”.