That settles it then. Mike Phillips and I have a psychological connection that steers the entire fate of the British and Irish Lions in South Africa.
I went downstairs earlier to warm up another tasty budget ready meal from the Tesco range of over-hydrated rice products, and the Lions were just finished the first half of tonight’s match against the Sharks, part of the South Africa tour. The score was shockingly low, 7 - 3 or something. So then play stopped and I ate some curried rice mush and then play started again and I began to get those funny Mike Phillips flutterings, and then suddenly I was all like swoon and “be careful of his beautiful face!” and then within about a minute he had scored this sweet try. Because I was watching, and sending my I-Love-Mike-Phillips vibes all the way to Africa.
And I’m pretty sure some of them rubbed off on Lee Byrne because he was fucking amazing too, so quick, although that Phil Vickery guy still looks like a cross between a Salford doorman and Crabbe and Goyle from Harry Potter. With some potato genes mixed in too.
The Sharks were sponsored by some dude called Mr Price, so they all had Mr Price written on their shirts, which was super-confusing to begin with because I was surprised to find that Price was such a common name in South Africa. Then I realised my schoolboy mistake and vowed to have the Welsh rugby team in Miss Vaughan shirts by 2020. What? It could happen.
Final score: Lions 39, Sharks 3. Mike Phillips: 10,000 hottie points.