There's some sort of football championship going on in France this Summer. The England team, joining in with this year's general 'stuff Europe' theme, decided to leave early by losing to that great footballing nation Iceland. So now those who follow the ball kicking game in this part of the world have all become Welsh. As I write they are playing Portugal, I'm told. It's sad but inevitable that if they lose they'll be that plucky Welsh side but if they win they'll be that great British side. As it is I find football slightly less boring than a seven year old report into the Iraq war. Dewch ymlaen Cymru! as they say down Hessle Road.
The games are being broadcast on this side of the Atlantic too. The appeal of the sport baffles me.
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