That was my first ever rugby match.
My partner David had followed the game for 40 years after playing first at school, then for Doncaster and Yorkshire, eventually retiring while in Linlithgow not long before I met him. But like many sportsmen, just because the body proved unable to carry on, his heart and soul were still in the game.
His passion for the game was infectious, and I couldn't have had a better teacher to educate me on the laws and history of rugby. And that doesn't take into account some of his stories from his playing days, many of which I can't repeat on here because my parents and children might one day read this blog!
In February 2007, he invited me to join him on a trip to Edinburgh (at that point I had never set foot in Scotland despite having lived in the UK for over nine years) to watch Scotland v Italy at Murrayfield. I accepted with no hesitation.
In his pre-match explanation, David advised me to expect Scotland to win by a good 20 or 30 points. In the first eight minutes, Italy scored three tries right in front of me. The Italian supporters went nuts, and Scotland went on to lose by a final score of 17 to 37.
Three years and countless international and club matches later, we headed to Rome for the Six Nations match between England and Italy.
For months David had been telling friends and family that he was taking me to Rome for Valentines Day, and while this was true, those who know David best would ask, "Is there a rugby match involved?". When we confirmed this was the case, I inevitably received sympathetic comments.
But how could they feel sorry for me when this was the sight that greeted me upon reaching my seat?
The atmosphere in the stadium was incredible. It might be run down, past its prime and due to be replaced, but the Stadio Flaminio feels like an old friend even on the first visit.
The number of England supporters attending was incredible! When I hear people comment from now on about they think Italy shouldn't be part of the Six Nations, I will dare them to moot that point with the thousands of rugby supporters who love making the trip to Rome!
There were England shirts all over Rome in the run-up to the match, and they congregated in the stadium along with a huge number of Italians. I was a bit different, I have to say. I wore my England shirt the day before when we spent the afternoon in an Irish pub watching the other two Six Nations matches, and for Italy v England I went proudly wearing my (much warmer) Leicester shirt.
Ok so the match itself wasn't the most thrilling I've ever been to, although the unexpectedly close score was nerve wracking. Italy could have pulled off an upset with Wilkinson having an off day - and I might add that all players have them for whatever reason but that doesn't mean he needs to be replaced permanently - which meant England missed out on additional points on the board.
But my favourite memory of the day will be something that happened off the pitch.
The friend who booked our match tickets also surprised us with pre and post match hospitality, so instead of heading with the crowds back into the centre of Rome, we stayed behind for champagne and nibbles. It was probably an hour after the end of the match before we set off back towards our hotel.
We could hear people cheering in Italian ahead of us but didn't know the cause at first. Then, standing outside an open gate near the changing room was a small crowd of about 20 people taking photos.
I grabbed David's arm. "Is that Castro?" I asked him.
He says now that I never waited for his answer before I dashed into the crowd, elbowing small children out of my way in an effort to get to one of my favourite players, Italy and Leicester star Martin Castrogiovanni. I dispute David's version of events, as I definitely heard him confirm that it was indeed Castro, and I easily got to him as the crowd around him was not very big. But I won't let the truth get in the way of David's story.
I was afraid I was too late because he turned to go back into the stadium, but I tapped him on the shoulder and asked if there was any chance of a hug for a Leicester supporter, showing him the badge on the raincoat I was wearing.
At first he looked very puzzled, I suppose because he wasn't expecting to see his club colours in Rome, but then he gave me a big bear of a hug! David said Castro's face lit up, but I didn't believe him until I saw the photo later.
Fortunately he had had a shower following his very intense match (even getting a yellow card for his "enthusiasm") and smelled really good!
My first trip to Rome and my first visit to the Stadio Flaminio were both memories I will always cherish. Hopefully two years from now I can add to them, but for now I need to work on getting to Dublin for the 2011 Six Nations. It won't be my Italians out there playing but that won't stop me from going for travel and a rugby match!
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