WHEN I was young my father said, “son I have something to say,” what he told me I’ll never forget until my dying day. He said “son, you are a bachelor boy and that’s the way to stay. You’ll be a bachelor boy until your dying day.”

Perhaps I’m alone in envisaging Gavin Henson singing the theme tune to his new reality show, ‘The Bachelor’, the latest in a long line of side projects from one of Wales’ most talented and certainly most orange rugby stars. Knowing him though, it’s not to be ruled out. If it’s good enough for Dennis Waterman it’s good enough for our Gav.

For years I’ve defended Henson from the at times spiteful and certainly finicky Welsh media who don’t like him for reasons that have nothing to do with his prowess on the field.

It angers me that so many supposed lovers of what is just about still Wales’ national sport can’t reconcile themselves with the fact that Henson’s fame transcends the sport.

For many in the UK Henson and Johnny Wilkinson would be the only two rugby players they could name.

As for his critics, how they scoffed when he returned to the game in France, how they howled when things went south for him down on the Côte-d’Azur.

Now, drafted back into the reckoning for the World Cup after being named in the preliminary squad – a reflection on nothing more than Wales being an average side who appear to have lost the ability to win close contests and whose coach is toiling – Henson is a professional sportsman without a club. Like the rugby version of the littlest Hobo.

And what does he do? Goes and signs on for possibly the tackiest reality TV show imaginable.

Henson might as well have gone on a road trip throughout the Principality arming his critics with sticks to beat him with.

Gavin is not just a glutton for hair gel and fake tan, he’s seemingly also a glutton for punishment, courting controversy in a World Cup year.

Has he not himself said he’s in the last chance saloon as far as playing in a World Cup is concerned?

How is anyone supposed to take his efforts to make the Wales side seriously when he’ll be off filming this brain-cell crushing nonsense?

It’s bad enough that when fans try to recall his Grand Slam heroics that fresher memories come from TV work.

Where’s Gav? Does he fancy a game? Nah, sorry, he’s in Norway riding a bobsleigh across a frozen lake. Can Gavin be named in the squad? No mate. He’s too busy practicing his Paso Doble and trying on his sequinned shirt.

Gavin, bless him, says he’s doing the show to find his true love.

Other than offering him advice to try speed dating – god knows he shouldn’t set foot in a bar or nightclub with romance in mind – it should be remembered that in reality, Henson is doing nothing that should hamper his Wales hopes.

He deserves an absolute shilling in terms of mickey taking and banter on the training paddock – if and when he ever finds a club side – but the WRU have already made clear his TV commitment won’t have an effect on his training.

They tailor individual regimes around summer commitments and in reality (television), Henson doing a show like this isn’t really any different to Jamie Roberts’ laudable efforts to become a doctor.

We might all attach a certain moral highground to Roberts’ summer exploits, but essentially both men are turning their attention to matters other than rugby.

As long as Henson is fit, firing, focused and, most importantly, attached come the start of the season, Warren Gatland probably won’t care if he takes a summer job reading the weather on ITV.

And when I say attached, I mean to a rugby club.

Because of course he’ll find a soul mate this summer, that’s a given. The magic of television I believe they call it. And the sad thing is, some of you will be watching.

What on earth is going on down at Cardiff City where they seem to be on a crusade to entirely undo all the good work of the past few years?

We’ve been here before, albeit on a less grandiose and money-filled playing field, when Newport County sacked Peter Beadle.

They nearly went up, they nearly went up again and when they didn’t they sacked their manager. Exactly like Cardiff.

And just like Cardiff, County took too long to make key decisions and effectively cost themselves a season.

By the time Dean Holdsworth arrived plenty of County’s key personnel had left and some had decided to leave and for the likes of Jason Bowen and Charlie Griffin read Michael Chopra, Chris Burke and Jay Bothroyd.

It’s all well and good if a tangible plan of action is in place, but unfortunately as far as City are concerned, that clearly isn’t the case.

In the past three weeks Cardiff’s search for a manager has amounted to a big fat nothing.

In the past 48 hours they’ve spoken to a candidate in Alan Shearer who seemingly came into the reckoning from nowhere for no reason other than he’s a big, marketable name and now the club are finally reaching out to Malky Mackay.

Why now? For three weeks Mackay’s name has been in the frame. Why only now have Cardiff made their move?

Time is ticking and, more pertinently, Cardiff’s rivals are taking this opportunity to reinforce their ranks.

When you account for all the loan players who have left City since the crushing defeat to Reading, it’s no exaggeration to say they need half a squad.

Appointing a manager possibly just a few days before pre-season, almost entirely rules out the prospect of things coming together quickly enough to be considered serious contenders for promotion next term.

If Mackay is the right man and can build a dynasty with a younger crop of players, that shouldn’t be a problem. But that’s a big if.

And even if he is and he does, will all City fans be happy with a season of consolidation after such exciting conclusions to the last two campaigns?

It’s easy to tell them to be patient. The reality of being so might be a touch trickier if they are mid-table in the Champion-ship and Swansea are starting like Blackpool in the top tier.

The heat is well and truly on at the Cardiff City Stadium and it really didn’t have to be.

And finally, just a couple of words on Harry Redknapp, so generous and gracious in helping Newport County and taking an active interest in backing his protégé Anthony Hudson.

Redknapp, put simply, is a very, very nice man.

And talking to him, his interest in County isn’t just lip service either. I am awaiting with baited breath his first MOTD interview next season when he asks: “Motty, before we start, how did the County get on?”