ON RUGBY:THERE ARE a few matters I would like to clarify before I address one or two issues pertaining to the downside of being a professional sportsman. I am perfectly aware there are millions of people out there who would give one or more body parts to be paid in a professional capacity for playing a sport they love, writes BOB CASEY
Furthermore there are those who believe I am jammier than a Chivers factory and I should be eternally grateful that my modest ability has provided me with a rugby career and the trappings that go with it.
This column is not a whinge about the constraints imposed by playing rugby but hopefully an insight into one or two sacrifices that have to be made to pursue that career.
I am aware of my good fortune, particularly in the current economic climate, and certainly don’t take it for granted.
I’m now almost 11 years into my professional rugby career and during that time I’ve probably missed about 85 per cent of the weddings, christenings, confirmations and communions to which I have been invited. That means saying no to a huge amount of close friends and family, which is extremely difficult.
It’s not like other careers where you can ask for a day off work. People don’t get married very often; well at least you hope your best friends are happy first time around and won’t be going through the process again.
I remember my brother’s wedding at which I was best man. I didn’t have a drink because we had a game against Northampton the following day.
That morning when I was walking out of the hotel at 5am to go to the airport they were all there, singing away; just for a moment I envied them.
I have seven nieces and nephews and you’re constantly trying to overcompensate when you do get to see them for all those times when you couldn’t be there.
At Christmas I get to spend a little less than 32 hours at home in Maynooth.
London Irish train on Christmas Eve and St Stephen’s Day; it’s just the way it is and I know I’ll make up for it when I retire. There would also be the odd Sunday night when I’d ring after a match to catch up with family and they’d be in my parents’ house having a barbecue.
That’d make me quite maudlin for a moment or two especially in the days when London Irish were struggling.
That’s certainly not the case any more, although I’m saying this through gritted teeth after we conceded a last-minute penalty against Harlequins at The Stoop that earned them a draw.
It was disappointing, particularly in the light of the previous weekend’s victory over our nemesis, the Leicester Tigers.
They beat us three times last season, obviously including the final and we were very determined to lay down a marker in this match.
Over 16,500 people turned up at the Madejski stadium and I’d like to think the majority were not disappointed, at least in terms of the result if not the game as a spectacle.
Leicester coach Richard Cockerill had plenty to say afterwards about how many players were missing because of injury but that verbal smokescreen failed to camouflage the fact they had a full pack. I could not get over how conservatively they played on the day. Much of their pride stems from their set-piece play and we really went after them in that respect.
When the Tigers beat teams they like to rub it in up front, impose their will through being unrelentingly physical. They put so much emphasis on their set-piece that if you can disrupt them there it denies them that platform.
We didn’t nick as many throws in the lineout but we really disrupted their possession, while in the scrum we worked them hard.
We possess two complete frontrows that we rotate. It’s tough for opposing props because having had to work so hard for two thirds of the match they are faced with a fresh, equally corrosive scrum presence. Even if a prop does manage to survive in the tight he usually hasn’t got any surplus wind to make a contribution around the pitch.
During the week we had an open day and about 2,500 supporters turned up. Those numbers remind you how fortunate we as a club are and furthermore the importance of being available to those fans. It was quite funny when about 100 kids turned up in the dressingroom just as we were getting changed to go out on the pitch.
Now most were accompanied by their mothers and while the kids went around getting autographs many seemed to be oblivious to the fact players were getting changed: it was comically surreal. The day itself was great and lots of fun: kids rarely put a tooth in it if they have something to say.
On a more serious note I am struggling in my weekly poker games. Things were going quite well but recently that good fortune is tapering off. People are beginning to read my tells so I may have to be a little more conscious of the Roger Moore eyebrows.
I went for lunch recently in a lovely restaurant called The Wolseley and you can imagine my surprise when the maitre d’, Fergal Lee from Cavan, asked me how my ground hurling was going. It’s on a par with the poker at this point, so to speak.
