Fifty-eight years. Over half a century. That’s a very long time to be waiting for a major tournament. If I look back at my earliest football memories, it’s the 1998 World Cup. France, Brazil, Croatia, Cameroon. Iran! Even Iran were there! No Wales. For nearly twenty-four years, I’ve had to spend major tournaments supporting ABE. Anyone But England.
No longer. Wales have qualified for the European Championships. We’re there, we’re in the group stages. Children now will look back in years to come, upon a Wales team that actually did it. In the tournament. In the mixer. In a group with England.
And now is not the time for steps backward. This is our first time sitting at the slightly diluted top table in fifty-eight years. We have a chance to show off, take the game to each and every team we face. Especially them. I don’t need to tell you who I mean.
They’re talking us down already. One-man team, out of form, shouldn’t be here. Ignore them. It doesn’t matter. If we crash and burn, that’s okay, as long as we leave nothing on the pitch.
Gareth, I know you’re tired. You’ve dragged us to France by the scruff of our ragged football shirts. Seven games, that’s all. Show the world why Real Madrid lavished millions and millions of pound on you, why you’re up there for the most impressive footballers in the world.
We can do this. This is our time. Our Day. There’s nothing to lose. We have a chance. We are #TogetherStronger. Come on Wales!