Well done Wales. Onwards and upwards.

I never thought I would write these words.

Wales have beaten New Zealand.

For many rugby nations, beating the All Blacks is a great victory. For Wales, it is something more. It is history. It is emotion. It is generations of hope, disappointment and belief finally rewarded.

Today I found myself thinking not only about the players on the pitch but about everyone who never got to see this day.

The last Welsh victory over New Zealand came in 1953. Think about that for a moment. Since then, generations have been born, grown up, raised families and grown old without ever seeing Wales overcome the All Blacks. Grandparents told stories about it. Parents spoke about it as a distant memory. Children grew up wondering whether they would ever witness it themselves.

And now, finally, we have.

For decades Welsh supporters have turned up with hope in their hearts. We have sung our anthem with pride, watched moments of brilliance, suffered narrow defeats and endured painful losses. Every time we faced New Zealand there was that small voice saying, “Perhaps this time.”

Most of the time, it wasn’t.

But Welsh people are stubborn when it comes to hope.

We keep turning up.

We keep believing.

We keep singing.

That is what makes this victory so special.

It was not won by statistics. It was not won by history. It was won by a group of players who refused to be intimidated by the weight of the past. They wore the red jersey not as a burden but as a privilege.

They played for themselves.

They played for their teammates.

They played for Wales.

Most importantly, they played without fear.

Watching the final moments tick away, I suspect every Welsh supporter felt the same thing. Disbelief. Excitement. Nerves. Then finally, relief.

When the final whistle blew, seventy-three years seemed to disappear in an instant.

Thousands celebrated in Cardiff.

Millions of hearts lifted across Wales.

For one afternoon, all the worries, frustrations and divisions that fill daily life were pushed aside. We were simply Welsh, and we were celebrating together.

That is the magic of sport.

It reminds us who we are.

Wales is a small nation. We do not have the population of the world’s giants. We do not always have the resources. We do not always win.

But what we have is pride.

What we have is passion.

What we have is a spirit that refuses to give up.

This victory belongs to every supporter who stayed loyal through the difficult years. It belongs to every child kicking a rugby ball in a school field. It belongs to every parent who passed on a love of the game. It belongs to every choir voice that has ever joined in the anthem before kick-off.

It belongs to Wales.

The truth is that this result means more because it took so long.

The years of disappointment make the joy sweeter.

The losses make the victory more meaningful.

The waiting makes the moment unforgettable.

Nobody knows what happens next. Rugby has a way of bringing us back down to earth very quickly. There will be more challenges ahead and there will be more difficult days.

But today is not about what comes next.

Today is about celebrating something extraordinary.

A generation has witnessed what previous generations could only dream about.

Wales have beaten New Zealand.

At last.

So raise a glass tonight, sing a song, wear your red jersey with pride and enjoy every moment of it.

Because these are the days that become stories.

These are the days that grandchildren hear about in years to come.

These are the days that remind us why we never stopped believing.

Well done Wales.

The dragon still breathes fire.

And after all these years, it has roared louder than ever.

Onwards and upwards.