On Rugby: Wistfully recalling halcyon days of yore probably goes with the territory of sports columns, but accompanying those sepia-tainted clips from the dim and distant past, or even those more colourful and contemporary repeats of say Michael Kiernan's Triple Crown and Championship-clinching drop goal 20 years ago, there was the distinct impression that Lansdowne Road was a good deal noisier back then, writes Gerry Thornley.

Those were the days when the great and the good and the unwashed all shuffled along to Lansdowne Road together. Back then, of course, an estimated 45,000-plus of the then 52,000 capacity would have also been Irish supporters, whereas latterly it is estimated that upwards of 10,000-plus English fans infiltrate Lansdowne Road (with a reduced capacity of 48,000) on the days of Six Nations' matches involving the two countries.

It's probably too trite to say this was the inevitable by-product of Irish clubs having to sell off their inherited crown jewels - namely match-day tickets - to the highest bidder. When England come to town, their supporters and/or the corporate market are invariably the highest bidders. The IRFU's surveys indicate that around 20,000 English supporters actually travel to Dublin on the weekend of a Six Nations' match between the two countries at Lansdowne Road, (even though their official allocation is 4,800 and barely half of them might be able to get their paws on a ticket). It's no wonder therefore, that more and more tickets, previously passed on to club members from generation to generation, go abroad and/or to the corporate sector.

As is the case with all professional sports, corporate entertainment has become a necessary evil. It helps fund professionalism as well as maintaining the sport's development. At Lansdowne Road, the phenomenon actually predates Kiernan's drop goal, corporate hospitality having being introduced in 1984 to help build the reconstructed East Stand.

The IRFU themselves will only have about 1,000 in their corporate hospitality tent on the back pitch at Lansdowne Road, and estimates put the total number at around 4,000, although like the exact numbers of English supporters in the ground, it is impossible to gauge accurately. And ultimately it probably is a bit too easy, and even clichéd, to blame any perceived dilution of the Lansdowne Road 'roar' on the emergence of corporate entertainment.

Yet the atmosphere at the old ground on Six Nations' days sometimes pales by comparison to the atmosphere generated at the ground on other occasions or by Irish supporters abroad. Needless to say, when given the chance, Munster and their Red Army provided the prime example when hosting Wasps in the Heineken Cup semi-final last season. Clearly a small percentage of the estimated 45,000 Munster supporters (not all of them necessarily from Munster either) who travelled to Lansdowne Road that day are fortunate enough or inclined enough to obtain tickets for Six Nations games.

However, it appeared that every single one of them bore the colours that day and shouted and sang themselves hoarse. They also arrived early, and began generating an atmosphere long before kick-off.

When Lawrence Dallaglio, who had been to Lansdowne Road for the Grand Slam winner-takes-all shoot-out the previous season, emerged from the dressing-rooms beneath the West Stand for the pre-match warm-up he was visibly taken back. Perhaps it's best not to repeat his exact comment overhead by one nearby and eager wag on witnessing the sea of red before him (with a nest of Wasps amongst them), suffice to say that the first word to emanate from the slightly stunned Wasps captain was "holy" and the second one wasn't "Mary".

Murrayfield last week was also a reminder of how much more colourful and vocal Irish supporters tend to be away from home. One thinks back to the pool decider between Australia and Ireland at the 2003 World Cup. Again, the estimated 15,000 Irish fans who were there that day generated more green and atmosphere than is generally the case at Lansdowne Road. It made you wish you could transplant them back to Dublin, ideally next Sunday.

Perhaps this is understandable when you've either gone to the trouble of travelling abroad or you're an ex-pat. Perhaps you're more inclined to wear your Irishness on your sleeve. Perhaps this is true of any national sporting identity abroad. Perhaps also, though, truer fans are more inclined to travel abroad occasionally (be it Ireland or the provinces in Europe) because it is so difficult to obtain tickets for Lansdowne Road Six Nations' games.

Of course, there are still some cracking days at the old ground, even if this tends to support the perception that the crowd has increasingly become more reactive than pro-active. Certainly there was little wrong with the atmosphere when Ireland denied England the Grand Slam in Lansdowne Road four years ago, or when the sides went toe-to-toe in the first half of the winner-takes-all shoot-out two seasons ago.

Maybe Martin Johnson's pre-match stand-off with officials and refusal to adhere to the stated agreement for the presidential greeting prior to the national anthems helped galvanise Lansdowne Road as well. There have been plenty of other cracking days too, not least when Jake White also provoked the home ground into near apoplectic rage over his pre-match observations about the merits of frontline Irish and South African players last November.

Ultimately, if it's a cracking good game, there'll be a cracking good atmosphere and the chances are that a host of socio-economic and cultural factors are at work here beyond the remit of a humble sports hack. Back in 1985 or before, if memory serves, the two home games in the Six Nations shone like beacons in darkest mid-winter.

Leaving aside the supposed wonders of the Celtic Tiger, we're comparatively spoilt nowadays, in sporting terms anyway. This week alone there will be Champions League football tonight and tomorrow night, a double serving of Six Nations on Saturday and a host of other televised treats.

But, in the heel of the hunt, if the Munster-Wasps game could generate such an atmosphere, why can't Irish supporters for a game against England? C'mon Lansdowne Road, to paraphrase both Bob Marley and Mick Doyle, lively up yourselves.