In the dark they came. Down the old roman road of the A483 the English travelled. As they drank their Pimms and feasted on swan, all that was on their mind was humiliation of the Welsh. They laughed at how valleys had been flooded, they chuckled at the black gold stripped from the ground and how they smirked at their attempts to eradicate the Welsh language.

Tonight they wanted to heap a further indignity upon the welsh, but in a rugby club in Wrexham the true sons of Owain Glyndwr awaited them. The climax of thousands of years of oppression would unfold on this night…. Its been over 2 years since I last set foot on a rugby pitch. Walking into the club on Friday felt really unusual. There was the familiarity of everything being the same while subtle differences caught the eye. The changing rooms had the look of a team that was going somewhere, despite being full of more grey hair than Gandalf’s beard.

This was Wrexham Vets second post covid outing and as the fearsome 19 revelled in being together ready to fight again, we cursed and spat on the floor as we spoke the names of the heinous backstabbers who hadn’t turned up.

The English arrived in posh cars driven by their servants and immediately stated that they only needed 14 men to beat the likes of Wrexham. To protect Welsh honour Daniel Woolfendale immediately volunteered to join their team. Sometimes throwing yourself under some barrelling prop is the ultimate sacrifice that can be made in rugby, but we forget the more subtle things that mean we get to play the game we love.

With a cry of “Tally-ho” and a blow of a trumpet, the English kicked to Wrexham. Reg Parry gathered like always and Wrexham started attacking. For the first 10 minutes things seemed to even out. Sion Lloyd Jones marshalled the backline and kicked Wrexham into good positions. This was a genius plan because few of the Wrexham players were up for any running.

Chester also fought hard, contesting every ruck and winning multiple turnovers. The penalties and subsequent lineouts pressured Wrexham but some grit at the set piece meant that lineout ball was rarely guaranteed for Chester. After much back and forth, eventually Chester kicked a long ball that ended up being gathered by try machine Scott Davies. He picked up the pace and hammered through the Chester line, scoring in the corner.

At 5 – 0 Wrexham had the advantage but it didn’t seem safe. While Scott became a talisman for the team, Tom Robinson was also leading in midfield. Giving a masterclass in snapping Englishmen in half, Tom had clearly made a vow that no one was getting past him and that anyone who tried would be hurt in the attempt. He also tried his hand at offence and with a physical presence that warned off more than a few potential tacklers Tom finished off a good team effort to go under the posts. 12-0 thanks to Gavin Prigmore’s conversion. With the half fading Wrexham continued to apply pressure and to give away penalties at the breakdown.

The disruption of the Chester lineout meant that they couldn’t capitalise and the mighty front row of Bingham, Gill and Elder meant that the set piece always seemed to favour Wrexham. As the forwards slugged it out in midfield once again the ball got to Scott Davies, once again he turned up the pace and once again he sliced through the opposition like a juggernaut through butter.

Half time arrived and the treacherous Woolfendale was allowed back into the Wrexham team while Adam Jones put on a Chester jersey. Wrexham’s team talk called for more of the same with an emphasis on getting more ball to our backs of mass destruction. Chester could be heard exclaiming “What the devil?” “Confounded oiks” and “We are not amused” while opting to do less of the same.

The Chester game plan became heavy on forward power and lots of work from the base of mauls and rucks meant that Wrexham were repeatedly driven back. The Wrexham defence had been solid but as players grew tired it began to creak. Like Miley Cyrus, the Chester forwards’ favourite musician, they came in like a wrecking ball and battered the Wrexham defence.

When Wrexham gave away penalties Chester kicked a lot less and just kept running at them. 10 minutes of relentless pounding left Wrexham’s heads ringing and Chester crashed over for a try. Wrexham gathered behind the posts and scratched their aching heads. They vowed to tackle better and contest for the ball more. They did neither and Chester took an “if it aint broke don’t fix it” approach and once again subjected Wrexham to some unadulterated pummelling.

Wrexham continued to creak under the pressure and while the referee shouted at Keir Harding to keep his hands off the ball in a ruck he wasn’t even part of, mysteriously Chester carried on winning penalties. As Wrexham were stretched and the field opened up, turncoat Adam Jones crossed the line for a Chester try.

In hindsight lets say Wrexham allowed Chester to exhaust themselves as they deliberately absorbed attacks. The general wheezing and immobility of the Wrexham pack makes this unlikely but I reckon we can just about get away with it. As the Wrexham lead began to look shaky Scott Davies once again got his hands on the ball and once again he was unstoppable. 24-14 to Wexham.

In a final flourish there was an uncontested scrum in the Wrexham 22. In the least convincing piece of duplicity since a Wrexham player tried to talk his way into a pub with a screenshot covid passport, Ross Roberts went number 8 allowing Keir Harding a chance to pick up and run up the field. Keir’s 2 year break eating pies paid off and after making a hole and running through it he floated a perfect pass for a guaranteed try for either Hankinson or Darlington to complete.

In the end they bickered and decided it would be best if no one scored and the opposition had a scrum. As the final whistle blew the entire team cheered at the thought of being able to breath again some time in the next few hours. While there can be little doubt that Scott Davies was the man of the match for Wrexham, Tom Robinson was close behind with some thundering defence. In the pack Thomas Hankinson tackled like a demon and made many of the heavy Wrexham yards. Young John Gill was as exceptional as ever and is so consistently good it’s barely worth mentioning. Pete Blakemore cemented his reputation as a quiet assassin, taking down Englishmen whenever they stepped near. In the backs Adam Jones was a nuisance regardless of who he was playing for. Everyone defended well with line breaks barely to be seen.

The Wrexham scrumhalves were deviously attacking regardless of field position and special mention must go to Ross Roberts who retired 5 years ago and still will not get off the bloody pitch.

A highlight was Neil Route attemting to catch passes in the manner of a volley ball serve. Twice. While Chester were dispatched back over the border with their top hats dented, coal dust in their mouths and leeks in their backsides, we need to remember what a precious opportunity we had tonight.

With 2 years of nothing, it was a privilege to get back on the field and have such a wonderful time that even todays aches and pains cannot diminish the euphoria of being back on the pitch again. Wrexham extend their heartfelt thanks to Chester for a game played in fantastic spirit and we look forward to visiting them and having a sweet chariot run all over us. Wrexham coaches were spotted watching the game and the sigh of relief that this generation of players are beyond the reach of the current first and second teams could be heard from the town centre.

The Anglo Welsh war continues in a month when Wrexham host the toffs from Oswestry.

*This level of anti English sentiment is only acceptable because the Wrexham squad was about 1/3 English.