An Irishman's Diary

IF THERE’S any certainty about tonight’s Ireland-England rugby match at Croke Park, it is that it will played out in an atmosphere of superficial politeness, exaggerated in roughly inverse proportion to the extent of real affection between the two countries.

I predict that, as it was on its Croker debut two years ago, God Save the Queenwill again be sung in a silence as reverent as it would get anywhere outside Buckingham Palace. The English players will again be greeted warmly by our President, even if they line up in the wrong place and force her to walk on the grass.

And when the match gets under way, the home crowd will again heroically refuse to jeer English kicks at goal, except for that drunk in the Upper Cusack stand, whose ill-timed attempt to crack a joke will draw a chorus of disapproving hushes from those around him.

The only hint at an unhappy history between the countries will occur 15 minutes into the second half, when Ireland open up a nine-point lead thanks to Tommy Bowe’s sparkling try in the left corner.

Then the crowd will break into a chorus of The Fields of Athenry. But with its coded references to "Trevelyan's corn", this song is the most diplomatic of rebukes possible about the Famine. Only an English fan with a history degree could be offended.

Contrast all this with the uneasy situation every year wherein the English Princess Anne has to stand stoically through an unofficial Scottish anthem that gloats over a rare drubbing dished out to one of her predecessors 700 years ago and carries an implied call for a repeat.

I wonder if, as she is sent homeward afterwards, tae think again, the princess ever reconsiders her role as patron of Scottish rugby.

Or, for an even more dramatic contrast with likely events in Dublin 3 today, consider Welsh captain Phil Bennett’s famous team talk before the game with England in 1977, recently recalled in this paper’s sports supplement. “Look at what these bastards have done to Wales,” he told his men on that occasion. “They’ve taken our coal, our water, our steel. They buy our houses and live in them for a fortnight every 12 months. And what have they given us? Absolutely nothing. We’ve been exploited, raped, controlled and punished by the English – and we’re playing them this afternoon.”

I can’t predict what exactly will be said in the dressing-room at Croke Park this evening, and we may not find out afterwards either. But I doubt very much if Brian O’Driscoll or Declan Kidney will echo Bennett’s call to arms; and not just because Ireland has never had much coal.

The fact is that, for the Celtic nations living – more-or-less happily – under the crown, a certain amount of militant nationalism can be indulged at sporting events, for motivational purposes. Whereas, having to deal with actual independence, and its messy aftermath, this is a luxury we are denied.

Our all-island rugby team represents at least two nationalities – three if you include the growing Munster separatist movement that will see many Irish supporters wearing red shirts today – and consequently two interpretations of Irish history and Croke Park's role in it. Hence the elaborate anthem ceremony, which as usual today will be only one song short of the set Bruce Springsteen performed at the Superbowl last month. Maybe we should add Munster's Stand Up and Fightto the playlist, and invite rock bands to perform it.

Of course, the stultifying politeness with which we greet the old enemy may have its own subversive power. Because, in fairness – the red carpet incident apart – the English have often reciprocated in kind, at least when it was most needed.

Witness 1973 when, as we are reminded every year, they travelled to Dublin at the height of the Troubles after the Welsh and Scottish had refused to so, and were applauded on to the pitch. Not only did they turn up; they had the decency to be not very good, and Ireland won easily.

Similarly, two years ago, when the occasion demanded a resounding Irish victory, the visitors obligingly sent over a weak and demoralised team that, once the exaggerated politeness was out of the way, rolled over to a record defeat. Had they not done so, the historic first rugby season in Croke Park would have been an unmitigated disaster, after the perfidious French had made a mockery of our national sports shrine in the opening game.

England clearly understood the significance of their playing in Croker for the first time – even if the home team would have been hard put to agree a joint statement on the issue – and a 13-43 defeat was exactly the right response. Something slightly less polite would suffice today.

But it is to be hoped that the significance of their playing in Croke Park for the last time is not lost on them either.