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This is the moment Graham Henry had dreaded as if waiting for some grim
nemesis at a distant crossroads. Before the tournament began with his team
accumulating a series of consecutive wins - yesterday's would have been
the eleventh - the Wales coach had feared that the moment of failure would
inevitably arrive as it does with even the greatest of teams. Henry knew
that the good times do not last for ever. He pointed to the All Blacks
and Springboks of recent exemplary vintage whose run had come to an end.
If a loss had to come, then better that it should have done before
the World Cup began. This was not to be. It had always played on his mind;
the dreaded law of averages.With no convincing style in the first two matches
of the World Cup, the suspicion grew that fate would sooner rather than
later deal its cruel blow to Wales.
If this was a thoroughly exciting game with the underdog Samoans upending in brilliant fashion the much fancied Wales, the South Pacific team benefited hugely - 28 points in Rob Howley's reckoning - from a mistake-strewn, often unclear Welsh game.
The spontaneous counter-attacking running of the Samoans - to which the Welsh crowd responded generously and genuinely in their resounding applause at the end - was as thrilling as anything seen in the tournament so far. Yet when the analysts scrutinise the pattern of the match they will discern unquestionably Wales's substantial contribution to their own downfall. Garin Jenkins, for instance, failed to find Wyatt in the lineout for Samoa's first try; Scott Quinnell gave a wayward pass for Bachop's second try. There were innumerable other occasions of rank bad play bordering on the incompetent.
The spectre of Wales's bad old days of the last dozen years or so returned to haunt what the crowd had come to expect as a feast. Indeed, so inept was the large proportion of the play it was as if Henry had not arrived on Wales's beleaguered shores. This, one felt, was the way it used to be; was no more and destined not to return.
Iced water was poured on the delirium of recent months. Nothing epitomised this harsh reality more than Neil Jenkins. The award of the first kickable chance at goal in the fifth minute was greeted with rapturous cheers as the formality of its success was already assumed. However, the yellow banners bearing the legend "Nice One, Neil" had to be kept under wraps and to wait until the thirteenth minute when he converted the penalty try. At last, this allowed him to surpass Michael Lynagh's world record of 911 points. By the end of the game Jenkins had registered 927 points as a new world record.
This was as it used to be. A haphazard and wayward performance by Wales would only be redeemed by Jenkins's cool accuracy at goal. While he overcame his nervousness and recovered his composure, his team failed to follow suit.
For the first time Samoa had weather conditions to their liking. Away from the rain of Wrexham and Llanelli they blossomed in Cardiff's ideal playing conditions.
Henry concluded that the defeat will do the team no harm. As he pointed out the 12 handling errors and three crucial turnovers, it was clear to him and to others that this was no way for a team with ambitions to go farther in the competition. Disciplined efficiency in simple matters still escapes this Welsh team. These faults have been there from the beginning. They are still there. In the little time remaining, can Henry make them go away before the killing fields of the knockout stage begins? Upon this, Wales's fortunes rest.