The Wales v Ireland unheard conversations as veil of misery lifted amid fascinating subplot
On Friday night, the rain had been pouring through the gaps in the Principality Stadium's roof.
On Saturday afternoon, nothing got through the structure sitting atop Wales' rugby home. They don't slide it away anymore. Not even God could watch Wales play on this day.
For the first time in a long time, he'd have actually wanted to.
READ MORE: Today's rugby news as Irish stars blown away by Wales players and Sherratt gives job verdict
READ MORE: Matt Sherratt Q&A: I almost cried in front of the players and asked them for two things
For the first time in a long time, there was hope for Wales.
As the seconds ticked down to half-time, almost all of the tickets that had been shopped about in the week were watching where God couldn't - almost in disbelief, but suddenly buoyant once more with fresh belief.
Those in white jerseys, rather than the usual green, were feeling a little flustered. Captain Dan Sheehan took exception to his opposite number Elliot Dee after Wales eked out another scrum penalty.
Peter O'Mahony, never one to back down, sought to get involved, as Nicky Smith celebrated his penalty on his knees, oblivious to the pushing and shoving, with a shout skyward. As Wales went to the corner, Hymns and Arias rang out with as much volume as the old standard has probably had for some time.
One more attack before half-time, with Wales - remarkably - trailing by just four points. As Wales' maul rumbled towards the line, it was the noise of the crowd that willed them closer.
Each close-quarter carry was met with the celebrations of a try. First Tomos, then Taulupe. Williams and Faletau respectively told they were short each time.
Yet, Wales still came. Another maul, another drive.
On the sidelines, Wales' national medical manager Prav Mathema signals with his hands to get more Welsh players to join the push to the line. They listen, piling in to join the cause.
It's stopped short, but Wales are patient. Carry, more noise. Another carry, the cacophony rises.
Jac Morgan - who else - burrows over. The stadium erupts, as one Welsh fan carrying two pints, having just missed this momentous moment, has to duck and weave past the flailing arms and plastic glasses back to his seat.
For the first time in a long time, there was hope for Wales.
That hope, missing for so much of the last 500 or so days, was finally extinguished late on by the Irish machine. But having been silenced for some time, Welsh rugby had found its voice again.
"Go on Nicky, that's it Elliot," cried a Welsh voice after the first scrum of the day. Fearing the worst, the set-piece offered up some early moments of optimism for those in red.
A scrum penalty for the home side. "Elbow collapsed is the call I've been given," explained Ridley. "He went down on entry," bemoaned Andrew Porter, after WillGriff John had got the call.
The scrum continued to be a fascinating battle-ground. Soon, another scrum penalty followed for Wales - this time, Nicky Smith getting the better of Thomas Clarkson on his first Ireland start.
"Go on Nicky boy," cried one fired up Welsh forward behind him. "Control it," Ridley told Sheehan and Clarkson. "The set was wild, you need better control than that."
A few moments later, he would be asked for more feedback on Ireland's scrummaging. "The only feedback I can give is he needs to stop collapsing it," was the response. With that, a third scrum penalty went against the Irish.
Then, the first of the momentum shifts at the scrum. "Who do you need off?" Ridley asked his TMO. "No. 1 red? HIA?"
"Me?" was all Smith could reply as he was ushered off for a medical check. The other change was far more calculated than just a knock to the head, as the two captains did battle with their words.
Having been unhappy with the height of the scrums, Sheehan, leading his country for the first time, managed to talk Ridley into a change.
"Why don't we just set higher?" suggested the official. "Happy days," the response from the Irish hooker.
Gareth Thomas, fresh on the pitch to replace Smith, was soon informed of the change. "I know you've just come on but we're set too low this side, we need to set higher."
The change of height suited Clarkson. Thomas dropped first, with the penalty moving Ireland 10-0 ahead. With it, an improvement in feedback for the Irish tighthead.
"I can see you're fighting to stay higher there, so much better," remarked Ridley.
Then, it was Morgan's turn to get in his ear. "I know they want to be higher, but shouldn't it be a battle of heights as well?"
"I thought they did well that time, then your player bailed under pressure," replied Ridley. "The scrum has got to stay off the floor and every one has been on the floor. I'm resistant to say it's got to be lower. If anything it's got to be higher."
From there, it became a real battle. Once Smith returned, the message about height was conveyed to him as well. "Height, height, height," called Ridley to the front-rows. "Use it."
It all built to the crescendo of that first-half. "Check the entries," asked Sheehan ahead of one scrum late on. Wales' players, meanwhile, had a bounce in their step that has long been gone.
Gareth Anscombe was barking orders from the backfield, Ellis Mee skipping about from touchline to touchline during every break in play. Tommy Reffell, after one penalty earned by Morgan and John, gave a roaring fist-pump and shouted "come on" as the officials' whistle blew.
It was all building to the unlikeliest of half-time leads.
For the first time in a long time, there was hope for Wales.
Into the second-half, Wales' belief was growing. Morgan, increasingly the referee whisperer, turned a Welsh knock-on into an Irish penalty with just a few words.
At the side of the pitch, a fan from Trimsaran held up a sign saying 'This is our house'. Wales haven't won a Six Nations game here in three years, but once more, it felt like a fortress again.
The scrum remained a coin toss. "The entries," again remarked Sheehan to Ridley.
There were nervy moments. "We're looking at a head contact by a Wales player," said Ridley to his TMO. "It's the actions of Wales 18," was the response.
Was Henry Thomas heading for the same fate as Garry Ringrose? Nope.
"I'm seeing that chest on his head at the moment," said Ridley. "Can we just determine if we have head-on-head contact.
"It's chest on head. I'm not seeing that as foul play. The ball-carrier has just dipped. He's bent over and just happens to make contact with the players' chest."
One Irish fan, not so thrilled with the call, turned to the press box and shouted "Lads, get tapping" as he mimicked typing, beckoning the written press to document the injustice.
There was nearly one more twist in the tail. A late effort from the debutant Mee, reaching out for a score that might have been a match-winner.
"We've got a grounding. On-field decision is try," said Ridley. With each slow-motion replay, fans went from celebrating a remarkable score to ruing a missed opportunity by the finest of margins.
Staring up at the big screen, all of Wales' players - bar one - stood still, waiting for the decision. The only one who didn't - the man at the centre of it all, Mee - was wandering around as the biggest moment of his playing career played out in front of him.
"Just with this angle again and I'm going to be coming back to you with a decision," chimed in the TMO. "Christophe, it hits the line short. It is a knock-on. So no try."
The young debutant's head dropped, but only for a split second. There was still time for another crack. It wasn't to be. By the end, Fields of Athenry was audible for the first time.
Welsh bodies stood around, battered and bruised. Gutted by the defeat, but without the veil of misery that has hung over them for so long.
Under the roof in Cardiff, their efforts were appreciated. For the first time in a long time, there was hope for Wales.
