is a stressful time for all those involved with international rugby. Whether you are a rugby fan, a rugby writer or perhaps more importantly a rugby player, the stresses and strains that three or four weekends of back to back matches can impose upon your body and indeed your mind can be extremely challenging.

This weekend with no official media duties to perform, my main health concern was DVT after spending almost twelve hours courtesy of DFS on the sofa, interspersed with short sprints to the kitchen to top up on saturated fats.

Talking of mental health, watching Wales v New Zealand comes into the realms of PTSD, but then again doesn’t every match involving Wales fall into that category these days.

With Wales trying to extend their unbeaten run to seven days, the Haka was drowned out by my snoring All Black Labrador Rufus, who was totally unimpressed with two legged humans of a similar colour disturbing his beauty sleep with their grunting and throat slitting gestures.

Wiping away my salty tears after a 52-26 defeat, it was straight into Ireland v South Africa with a Nespresso and hob nob accompaniment, a match that proved to be a full-bodied as my arabica roast.

With more cards than Clinton’s, Irish players were hopping on and off the field like Michael Flattley on steroids. Four yellows and a red were an aid the world champions gratefully gobbled up scoring four tries to one their to earn a 24-13 win, the Boks head home as they arrived number one in the world.

With cramp setting in and in urgent need of hydration, the healthy sort, there was Just time for a virtual evening in Paris with a glass of Red and a statin both purely medicinal to get me through the final vestiges of Saturday night.

Fabien Galthie is under fire in many quarters of the French press for only delivering a Grand Slam and a Six Nations Championship in recent years and for having the temerity to help deliver two defeats to the best team in the world, South Africa. In Wales, they build commemorative gates for a coach with that kind of record.

Les Bleus with snowflakes falling at Stade de France eventually pulled away from Australia to earn a 48-33 victory, but it was not without its squeaky bum moments for the home team.

In an entertaining match with twelve tries, the French back line showed some wonderful touches, with Louis Bielle-Biarrey demonstrating his warp factor speed along with some deft footballing ability.

Sunday dawned and following a caffeine fuelled morning recovery session it was back to the sofa. When it comes to delivering, Scotland are a close second to yodel in the success stakes. Their blueprint for “this is our year” shown below was leaked just before they conceded five second half against Argentina a week ago.

They finished their Autumn campaign with a 56-0 win over Tonga to go with their opening weekend victory over the USA. The tartan golden generation once again failing waiting to match words with deeds.

Finally, minus the bagpipes and my barking dog, a perfect storm for which the noise abatement society should provide a suitable warning, it was a trip to Twickenham where the much loved Pumas were facing an England team on the crest of wave that is in danger of becoming a tsunami such is their strength in depth and the amazing winning run they found themselves on.

The comeback kings from the Pampas nearly did it again but in a nail-biting finish just came up short 27-23 after trailing 17-0 they once again launched a second half come back that Lazarus would have proud of but just fell short at the final whistle.

If this weekend was spent on the sofa for many of us Welsh folk, next weekend will be spent behind it as Wales without their twelve English and French based players face the World Champions South Africa in Cardiff.

It is time to say a prayer and light a few candles. Things could, and probably will, get very ugly. No sofa for me next Saturday as I will be in Wales to witness the expected Cardiff carnage.