The forecast was for rain during the game on Saturday. The two coaches had kept one eye on the weather apps all week, Warren Gatland had already had to cancel Wales’ outdoor training because the conditions were so miserable in the run-up, and they had tailored their plans to suit. So had the 80,000 crowd, who had come in boots, coats, and caps, carrying brollies, everyone expecting another heavy grey wet day, and a hard-going game, what they got, instead, was the first fine afternoon of February, and, what was in its way, a regular helter-skelter set-to of a match.
It started under a glorious sunset, which lit the west stand of the old ground brilliant pink. For an hour, it felt like it might have been an omen. Red sky at night, Gatland’s delight.
