TIPPING POINT:Competing at the very top level when not firing on all cylinders is what differentiates champions from contenders, writes BRIAN O'CONNOR

DID YOU see that coming? Nah, me neither. Nor did anyone else, no matter what sort of revisionist claptrap kicks in on the back of Saturday’s epic defeat of Australia. What we had been waiting for was a kick from the Irish rugby team, a game where they pulled out a performance and scared the bejaysus out of one of the big boys. At the last World Cup we famously waited and waited, ripped the pee out of Eddie O’Sullivan, and then waited some more, only to end up with nothing except being over run by several tonnes of angry Argentine bullock.

But this time there wasn’t only a kick, but a result. What is vital for Ireland now is that beating the Aussies doesn’t become a mere curio in the overall context of the World Cup.

Martina Navratilova is not an obvious reference point for the Irish rugby team but sporting fundamentals are usually pretty universal and nothing about Navratilova’s life or career could ever be accused of being ephemeral, either in scope or impact.

The world “legend” has been horribly abused by sports fans but an era of hyperbolic profile inflation and hard-sell only makes Navratilova’s entitlement to that label all the more obvious. And it was she who outlined the fundamental bottom line of top-class sporting performance. That it is characteristically pithy and to the point only emphasises the depth of substantial achievement behind it.

“What matters is not how well you play when you play well,” Navratilova once outlined. “What matters is how well you play when you’re playing badly.”

Used to the fortnightly grind of knocking out Grand Slam titles, she calculated it is the average that counts, not the peaks. Famously possessed of an early-career flakiness that in hindsight hardly seems especially flaky in the context of both the political and personal uncertainty in her life, the lesson of there being no point in trouncing everyone else on the run up to the final only to unravel against the steely Chris Evert when it counted, was hard-learned. But amidst the blizzard of jibes and speculation that surrounded Navratilova throughout a long career, no one ever quibbled with her wit or intelligence. The results are there on the most successful CV in the history of women’s tennis.

It is that ability to win without engaging top gear that characterises true champions. If A1 standard is achieved, then great, the result will usually take care of itself. But it is the quality of the B stuff that counts. Think back to how England won the World Cup in 2003 without hitting the ruthless peaks they’d achieved just a few months before on a Southern Hemisphere tour. Or how Spain landed last year’s football World Cup without really achieving the almost beatific fluidity they reached in the Euros two years previously.

And that is precisely why getting carried away with Saturday’s display by Ireland is dangerous.

Already there are any number of green-eyed enthusiasts who have crunched out sweatily excitable permutations whereby Ireland can get to the semis or the final itself. And there’s no doubt they can. But the Irish team have form when it comes to pulling out singularly spectacular performances from nowhere before descending back into dreary ordinariness. Putting in a single barn-storming performance is one thing. Competing at the very top level when not firing on all cylinders is what differentiates champions from contenders.

Gear yourself up this week though for extensive warbling about Irish rugby passion and innumerable variations on Ciarán Fitzgerald’s effing pride exhortation, just as we were treated after that memorable clash with England last winter when the cocky visitors really did get the bejaysus knocked out of them.

Ever since, that has been presented as the benchmark to which this Irish team should be judged. But it was very much an exception against the rule of ordinariness that dominated much of the two seasons prior to it. What is pretty much understandable is that the level of intensity and performance of that performance wasn’t replicated until now. By definition sending the performance graph rocketing upwards is not something that can be repeated on a regular basis. What is so worrying is the dizzying mediocrity this team is capable of descending to when sliding back down.

Even during 2009’s Grand Slam, when Irish rugby’s resources were humming in perfect harmony with a coaching set-up that knew what it was doing, and players enjoying a synchronicity of peak performance, only the most optimistic could have imagined that New Zealand, Australia and South Africa suddenly started to shuffle their feet uneasily at the thought of a new and genuine threat from the Northern Hemisphere.

Now there will be a temptation on the back of the weekend heroics to think that these Tri-Nations sides are way too over-rated, way too up themselves in their obsessive self-regard. And it won’t be tempting just for Ireland. At a time when European integration is under strain everywhere else, the lift Saturday’s result will give all the Six Nation teams will be considerable. Certainly the veneer of invincibility that surrounded the Tri-Nations before this World Cup has been altered and the competition is all the better for it.

However while the veneer may be scuffed a little, there remains more than enough evidence of the substance within the All-Blacks and the Springboks to suggest those contemplating a wager on a Northern Hemisphere success should still be searching for big odds. South Africa were knackered when they came to Dublin last winter and still scraped a win. New Zealand gave the Irish a spanking without appearing to hit anything like top gear.

But contemplating taking those giants on is precisely the sort of presumption that can so easily trip up this Irish team. Skewering a bunch of arrogant Aussies is always commendable, and fun too. But it won’t count for much if more mundane business isn’t taken care of against Italy. Then will come the real measure of O’Driscoll co, a probable quarter-final against Wales. And if the formbook counts for anything, it hardly requires Shakespearian imagination to picture Ireland’s performance levels dipping alarmingly low enough to produce the usual quarter-final exit.

That would be a terrible anti-climax on the back of the weekend excitement. Right now, something nicely average, not too great, and definitely not too bad, will do just fine. And then, it really could be a case of who knows?