The Big Match

The Evans family had four tickets for the big match: Wales against Ireland, in Cardiff, on Saturday at five o'clock. It was Owen's first time at the stadium. He was ten, and he couldn't sleep on Friday night.

On Saturday morning, the house was busy. Dad was driving, so he was checking the car. Grandma was making sandwiches in the kitchen: cheese, ham, and one with only butter for Owen. Mum was looking for the red scarves.

"We're leaving at one," said Dad. "The traffic is going to be terrible." "We're meeting Uncle Rhys outside the stadium at four," said Mum. "He's bringing the flags."

At breakfast, everybody made a prediction. "Wales will win by ten points," said Dad. "Ireland is better this year," said Mum. "They're going to win, I'm afraid." Grandma shook her head. "It'll rain, and it'll be a draw." Owen said, "Wales will win in the last minute!"

The traffic was terrible, as Dad said. They met Uncle Rhys at four, with the flags. The stadium was enormous and red, and seventy thousand people were singing. Owen forgot his sandwich.

At half time, Ireland was winning by eight points. Mum looked at Dad. Then it started to rain. Grandma looked at everybody. In the second half, Wales played better and better. With two minutes left, the score was equal.

In the last minute, a Welsh player ran the whole length of the field and scored. The stadium went crazy. Owen was shouting and crying at the same time. In the car, Dad said, "Well, nobody was right." "I was," said Owen. "Wales won in the last minute." And everybody had to agree.