“We need to remember how to enjoy this again,” said my friend Garmon, pointing at his plastic cup of lager and the exposed concrete concourse of the Cardiff City Stadium’s Canton Stand. “Because we won’t be enjoying the football.” Wales were 2-1 down to Armenia at half-time, losing to a team 71 places below them in the rankings , in a Gouldian throwback to the mid-90s, when Bobby’s team turned humiliation into a habit, losing 7-1 to the Netherlands, 2-1 to Leyton Orient and getting locked in the prison Bobby Gould had inexplicably decided to train in.
Wales hadn’t lost a home European Championship qualifier since 2011, and home defeats in competitive matches over the past 10 years are still rare enough to stupefy. For Wales fans of a certain vintage, watching the team crumble in a vital qualifier we expected to win prompted an unpleasant Proustian rush. I wonder whether that term has ever been used in relation to watching players you’ve never heard of from a former Soviet state waltzing through your midfield.
