Every year, on the 16th of March, since I began writing this journal, I have written about the Welsh Saint Patrick. Today is no different. In about an hour, I will be on my way to an Irish Pub in San Francisco to join a friend to watch the second game of the Six Nation Rugby tournament. Ahh, Rugby. ….
That moment of serenity over, my friend is already at the pub to watch the Ireland v. Italy game. I will be there by the end of the game to be in time to watch St. Patrick’s native country, Wales, in the team’s game against England.
As you have read in years past, St. Patrick was born in a village near Castell Nedd (Neath) to Romanized Welsh parents, kidnapped by Irish invaders when he was sixteen and held in slavery in Ireland until he escaped. He went to Rome (the Ireland v. Italy game is significant here), became a priest of the Christian Church and returned to Ireland to convert the Celt pagans. That he surely did, except for one element: the love of the brew.
And you can be sure I will be partaking – not of the nectar of the Liffey but of the Dragon, Double Dragon if they have it!
As long as we all beat the English, we are happy Celts. The third game today is Scotland v. France. Troublesome. Celts have a past history with France – it is for most the starting point for the migration to Briton. But then, what country in all the world is not an immigrant nation?
There is more about St. Patrick Cymro on these posts: