By Peter Jackson - The man truly in the know
In the golden days when the sun never set on Welsh rugby and the national team truly belonged to the people, crowds would flock to watch the greats sharpen their Grand Slam act.
Thursday afternoons before Five Nations’ weekends offered something far too good to miss, to see some of the greatest players who ever trod on God’s earth go through their final dress rehearsal – admission free. The training ground, a mile or two off Junction 35 of the M4, would be swamped.
Waterton Cross, on the edge of Bridgend roughly halfway across the old rugby belt...
