Unheard Wales v South Africa moments as referee comment sums up entire day and stadium alarm ends miserable year

Hours after the final whistle, deep in the bowels of the Principality Stadium, a piercing alarm started sounding.

"Please evacuate the building," it repeatedly said, with the alarm becoming more grating with each passing moment.

"You'll know when to evacuate," said one remarkably relaxed steward in the press room, "you'll see me running!"

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Right now, it's a wonder everyone isn't running from Welsh rugby. The alarms have been sounding for some time, but evacuations still seems some way off.

In the space of six long, miserable days, Welsh rugby has travailed the vast range of emotions that it does better - or worse - than anyone else. For the seven stages of grief, read the three stages of Warren Gatland.

If last Sunday was broken and Wednesday was defiant, then today was somewhat relaxed - like a man aware the latest performance had probably contained enough heart to keep him in his job.

In the Ray Gravell media room after a 45-12 defeat to South Africa, Gatland strolled in for his post-match press conference, seemingly almost whistling as he came in. It was far removed from how he pursed his lips last week, exhaling with the resignation of a man who seemingly didn't want the job.

That was what had set the tone for another long week in Welsh rugby. Not that it really needed much to decide the agenda.

Walking down Quay Street past the City Arms before kick-off, one Welsh fan had tried to offer his mate some much-needed optimism hours out from kick-off. "We haven't won a game in a year..." he said, with the inflection of his voice rising at the end - as though he had a pearl of wisdom or two to hand about how things aren't really as bad as they seem.

It never came. Instead, silence between the two. On Westgate Street, beyond the two sets of supporters competing for lineouts against one another - the South Africans won those as well - two tourists took pictures of Gatland's Gate.

Perhaps the next time that happens on a matchday, it will be without the man who gave his name to those gates in charge of Wales. Of course, we'll only know that after another review.

Sat amongst the pyrotechnics and rousing music in the minutes before kick-off, it all felt like it should be building to something more consequential than this. A Test match against the back-to-back world champions, right now, is nothing more than a glorified training session for the Springboks.

Even the most optimistic of Welsh rugby fan - an oxymoron if ever there was one - would have struggled to see anything than a 12th straight defeat for Gatland's men. The water leaking onto the benches of the Principality Stadium's press box did little to lift the mood ahead of a result that felt as close to an inevitability as you're likely to see.

There were no surprises or scalps. It went to script, despite the best efforts of the 23 men in white. From the first whistle to the last, the Welsh players were faultless in what they gave to the cause.

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The victims of gross mismanagement above them for far too long, the best efforts no longer are enough as Welsh rugby reaps what it has sown. Two tries down early on, you couldn't even say Wales had done anything particularly wrong at that stage.

Poor Sam Costelow, the latest punching bag for certain sections of the Welsh public, came down to earth having taken a high ball brilliantly, only to feel the might of half-a-dozen pairs of Springbok boots march over him to force the turnover for their second score.

Gingerly getting to his feet, he soon had the arm of Wales team doctor Geoff Davies around his shoulder as he ambled back, head facing down. Wales' story in the last year is Costelow's story.

Ever since that defeat to Argentina, the first in this long run, Costelow has been the fall guy - or at least one of them. Confidence is a cruel mistress and, even on a day when he, like everyone else, gave everything, sometimes that isn't quite enough.

"You're off, you've had a detection," referee Karl Dickson told him as the fly-half's gum-shield signalled he should depart for a HIA. "Don't worry," added Dickson to Dewi Lake while Wales were without their full complement of backs, "I wouldn't just let him go off and not replace him."

"Good pressure boys, keep them under pressure," cried Lake as Welsh players continued to throw everything at the Springboks. The Wales captain, along with his World Cup co-captain Jac Morgan, were giving everything to the cause - with the pair sharing a brief moment after one break in play, sinking their heads into one another as they rallied the troops.

However, there was only so much that pure will could do. Penalties started to creep up. One saw Dickson and James Botham discussing the Wales flanker's infringement as it played on the big screen.

"Tight call," said Botham, having spent a good 30 seconds arguing the toss already. "I know," replied Dickson.

At scrum-time, tight calls were in short supply. The difference between the two sides was fairly clear. "Come on Archie," called one Welsh voice towards tighthead prop Archie Griffin after a series of tough scrums.

Thomas du Toit, Griffin's club team-mate, tends to keep the Wales prop out of Bath's three jersey. Here, packing down on the loosehead, he was giving his colleague a torrid time. One scrum saw Griffin driven airborne, with both feet off the ground as he was hoisted onto the second-row behind him.

Another saw the Springboks get the penalty, leaving Griffin to trudge back slowly. "We can't stay square because they're on the angle," argued Nicky Smith, but it was futile by then. By the time Wales were sent backwards at another scrum, it was all Griffin could do to rest his hands on his hips and stare up.

Seconds later, he was off. Moments later, 36 minutes into the action, Wales ventured into South Africa's 22 for the first time, bringing with it a big cheer from the crowd. Gatland's side pile 12 men into the maul, but it goes nowhere.

"Get out," shouts a Welsh voice, as they try to reassemble a backline.

Another 12-man lineout is brought to a halt. "Start using it now," calls Dickson. "Stopped once." If anything summed up the day, it was that. Wales throwing everything at the Springboks and barely making a dent.

Towards the end, after Cameron Hanekom had come on to show Wales what they could have won, a four-minute long Mexican wave trickled around the stadium over and over again.

The interest in the game, and Wales' inevitable winless year, was waning fast. When it came to an end, with Wales finishing this abject 2024 with the final say in the form of a try, there was no real reaction either way. This year, this sorry and sobering year, was now officially consigned to history.

As those in white jerseys huddled on the pitch, one Welsh fan boasting the same new away jersey wandered onto the pitch with a toddler in his arms. Taking selfies as the child seemed to flit between the brink of tears and smiles, the stewards let him finish his photography work before gently asking him to leave.

It's rare, these days, that you'll see a pitch invader, for lack of a better word, treated with such laissez-faire. Only the countless reviews in Welsh rugby carry less urgency.

"You'll know when to evacuate, you'll see me running." Right now, as Welsh rugby settles into purgatory, no one is running - even if the flames are only engulfing more of the game in this country.