I had a call from Gatland the other day, you know, he was all like,
'Matt, I really need a good scrummy.'
And i'm all like, 'What's wrong with Dwayne or Mike?'
And he's like, 'Dwayne breaks to easily and Mike snaps too easily! I need someone who won't die or go nuts on the opposition.'
So i was like, 'Dude, this ain't happening and you knows it! I gotta work in the rugby shop, haven't I? But i'll be just down the road if you want a chat.'
He's like, 'I don't want a chat. I NEED YOU AT NINE!'
I'm all like, 'Woah, Warren, quit the shouting. It ain't happening. Face it.'
He was all groaning on the other side of the phone and said, 'If we fall on our faces in this 6Nations it's ALL your fault.'
I was like, 'Gatland, you're all talk, just like your fellow countrymen and just like our boys in the week preceeding a match!'
And he was all like hanging up the phone and ****.
And i was turning to my missus and was saying, 'He's a grumpy mofo.'
And she was all saying, 'Shut your face, boy. You know you're made for that squad - you could play beatiful rugby; fast flowing, dangerous rugby. Rememer 2005?'
And I'm all like, '2005 is in the past, quit living in the past Michael J. Fox!'
And she's all unappreciative of my humour and **** and saying, 'One day you'll see you went wrong and you'll crying like a ***** wishing you could play test rugby again and i'll be all hitting you with a walking stick until you shut up. Then one night i'll suffocate you with a pillow so i never have to hear you whine again. You die and no one cares coz you never played for Wales.'
I was standing there in absolute disgust saying, 'Who the f*** do you think you are?' Before i hit her....you know, really hard. So hard that it hurts for her to talk. She sobs in the corner and what not, but hell, it's better than hearing her go on and on.
She says she'll leave me if I hit her again, but she f***ing loves the bad boy - that's her problem.
Erm...so yeah, I won't be in the starting XV unfortunately.
