By Dan Lydiate
While Wales beat France to clinch the 2012 Six countries Championship Grand Slam – one participant stood out from the remainder of the field.
A robust presence at the pitch, Dan Lydiate, the 6ft 4in fearless farmer's son from Llandrindod Wells really deserved the identify participant of the Tournament.
In Grand Slam guy, the heroic Welsh flanker displays on his comeback from a damaged neck in 2008 to develop into the hero of Wales's 2012 Grand Slam good fortune. He additionally finds his innovations at the Australia travel, his love of tackling, his existence at the farm and his British Lions dream.
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Extra info for Grand Slam Man
In its own way, the house was as horsey as Jane’s, but at a higher, wealthier level: wonderful paintings of horses, including a few by George Stubbs himself, bronzes of horses from every era, shelf after shelf of gleaming polo trophies, some of them works of art in themselves. There was a pianist at the big white Steinway grand playing tunes from Cole Porter, Noel Coward, and Rogers and Hart, while the butler circulated through the room reﬁlling people’s glasses. It was all like stepping back into the 1920s.
That’s what I said to him. ” She paused. ” “Up to a point. ” I knew better than to put the blame on Black Jack. You can’t criticize the horse somebody has lent you—it just isn’t done. Jane chuckled. “Nobody’s done that in years,” she said. ” “Aye, that he did,” Thady said contentedly. “I told him that’s what happens when you get a real daredevil in the hunt ﬁeld. ” He sipped his tea, into which Jane had poured a generous shot of Irish whiskey. ” The same thought had occurred to me, which perhaps explains why I never repeated the experience.
I gave a sigh of relief as we turned off the main road into a narrower, 38 Horse People but quieter, dirt one, then, after what seemed like a long time, onto the gravel of a driveway that took us around the side of a magniﬁcent old brick mansion to a vast expanse of lawn, on which I saw two or three dozen more horses and riders, mixed in with a lot of well-dressed people on foot—for foxhunting is as much a social occasion as a sport, in which seeing who is there and being seen are perhaps more important to most people than killing a fox.
Grand Slam Man by Dan Lydiate