Hal Cruttenden - Stand Up, Writer, Actor

Unlikely as it may seem, I’m a massive rugby fan. Watching England throw away decent winning opportunities is the perfect way for me to unleash my inner Hulk – or, as I call him, The Halk.
On Monday, as part of our wedding anniversary celebrations, Dawn (my wife), her cousin Caroline and her husband Alan (who sorted the tickets through his Northern Irish rugby club connections) went to Twickenham to see England lose to Ireland. Alan let Dawn and I have the best tickets. We were about seven rows back at the end of the field where Ireland scored most of their tries. In fact, Tommy Bowe’s heartbreaking score with four minutes to go was touched down right in front of me. If you watch the replays of the game, you might be able to spot me amongst  the wall of Irish fans rising to salute their hero’s match-winning try. I’m the little tubby figure in white holding his beetroot coloured head in his hands with his wife screaming ‘Hah!’ in his ear.
It was actually great being among the Irish. I had a retired couple from Belfast next to me, with whom I shared my whisky, and Dawn got chatting with a very dry Ulsterman to her right. At one point, just after Ireland scored, I informed Dawn’s new friend that I didn’t know what had happened to England’s defence. He replied, ‘Ermm interesting…but I don’t care.’ At least when England went ahead through Jonny Wilkinson’s drop goal I had one moment to stand up and punch the air as the crowd around me fell silent. There was also the time when England scored a dubious try and I, who had paid £5 to get Reflink (a system whereby you can hear what the ref is saying through a little radio), was able to inform my Irish friends that England had been awarded a try. Those were two very sweet moments in an afternoon of pain.
All in all, despite the result, it was a wonderful day. I’m not bitter at all. In fact I’m really happy that Ireland got the result that they, and obviously the referee, really wanted.