I’m now left with that deflated feeling one tends to get at the end of a party or on the night of December 25th – what am I going to do with my weekends now? I guess I only have a few months to wait until the Six Nations.

The competition really has been the story of the underdogs.

• England, after suffering a 36-0 defeat to South Africa in the pool stage, go on to reach the final.
• Argentina shock France on the opening night…
• …Then they wipe the floor with them in the 3rd place playoff
• Fiji steal a 38-34 win from Wales to knock them out of the tournament at the pool stage.
• Georgia come within a whisker of beating Ireland.
• Tonga’s amazing comeback (and near victory) against South Africa 30-25

The list goes on. It really has been quite amazing to watch, especially the better-than-expected performances by the so-called “minnows” of the rugby world cup against the established sides. I was in St. David’s Centre in Cardiff when Portugal scored against New Zealand, to an enormous, rapturous ovation by the Welsh AND Australian fans in attendance. The perceived gulf of standard between the minnows and the established nations is narrowing, but such sides really need to be in regular competition against other good teams. Once every four years simply isn’t good enough.

What happens next? Well, Wales have a friendly against the newly-crowned world champions South Africa in November. Wales, whose form has been disappointing at best, are without a coach. I am debating picking up some tickets to the game. The probability of witnessing a hiding is high, which would make this an unattractive prospect if I was a fair-weather supporter. Alas, I’m not.

Words can barely express how utterly devastated I am. However, I am a product of my surroundings – the Welsh media are always giving us a false sense of hope, reminding us we are a rugby nation, our proud rugby history. Any days of Welsh rugby pride certainly are history – discounting the Grand Slam of 2005 we really haven’t done terribly much. We were awesome in the 1970s, sure, but were we world beaters?

It’s time for a harsh reality check for us Welsh fans – all of our grand victories are regarded by the rest of the world to be flukes. Every team has an off day. For every 27-18 whipping we give England, England marginally nip past by 62-5. Remember when we beat South Africa? Well that was 8 years ago, and the only time we ever beat them. Remember when we beat New Zealand? Er, no, me neither. Don’t get me wrong, I WANT Wales to win, and I want them to be great, but much like an alcoholic has to admit they have a problem before the road to recovery begins, so do we. And right now, the problem lies in Gareth Jenkins’ hands.

There is one school of thought which hypothesises that this loss to Fiji will be the catalyst for Gareth Jenkins’ departure/removal from the head coach position, a move that will no doubt be egged on mercilessly by the press in Wales. Do I think Gareth Jenkins should go? I don’t know. What I’d love to know, however, is just why the hell Mike Ruddock left. He led the Wales squad – a team largely the same as the squad which faced yesterday’s cruel fate – to a Grand Slam in 2005. Less than a year later he was gone, citing “family reasons”. (Incidentally, there are plenty of rumours around about the circumstances involved, though I doubt the real reason provides remotely as much gossip value. I’m not going to publish those rumours here for fear of a libel suit, you can ask around for yourself…)

I think there’s an interesting parallel between the Welsh rugby side and the English football squad. The Welsh media builds up the Welsh rugby team in the same way that the English press builds up the English football team and finger-points at their coach for their losses. We’re always supposed to “accept our defeats and come out stronger” or “learn from our mistakes”. The fact is, much like the England football team, we haven’t been any good for decades. The difference is, England won football’s World Cup. St. Jonny Wilkinson (and some other people too) won a rugby world cup.

And they don’t shut up about it.