ONE of the many troubles with getting older is that the rugby heroes you idolised when you were young and callow inevitably pass away, stirring memories of yesteryear when players really were more skilful and brute force did not win every game.
Nostalgia is a blessing and a curse, a bittersweet affection for past things, and I felt full of it late on Sunday when news came through of the death of Phil Bennett, the very great Welsh fly half who was at the heart of the phenomenal Wales team of the 1970s.
