Anthony Foley interview: It's hard to credit that Anthony Foley's presence in an Irish team is still the subject of any debate. Aside from what he brings as a player, he is also one of Keith Wood's most trusted lieutenants.

If fit, Ireland's most capped number eight plays. It's been that way for almost four years now.

Accordingly, Wood - who can speak as freely as he plays - made no secret of the importance he attaches to his Killaloe neighbour and friend from boyhood when publicly welcoming Foley's return with open arms on Thursday.

"It's been frustrating for him and for us to some degree, in that he is one of the leaders in the side. An amazingly calm head, he invariably makes the right decision at the right time and has done so for his whole career. That's invaluable. In pressurised situations you want cool heads in that area of the field, so it is very important for him to play. I'm looking forward to it."

The dogfight with Argentina being a prime case in point.

"If ever a game was made for Anthony Foley it was last Sunday," says Wood. "I reckon he aged more rapidly during that game, because he was wrecked afterwards from just sitting in the stand. He really wanted to be there."

The sideline, Foley admits, wasn't the best place to be. "It wasn't a great game anyway," he laughs. "At least the job was done, we're in the quarter-finals and we don't have to worry about being on the first flight out of here. That's a big relief, so in a sense the pressure isn't there, though there is pressure to put in a performance."

The notion that Ireland might target the quarter-final instead of today's game didn't cut much ice with Foley any more than Wood.

"I don't think we should. I think every international should be treated on its merits. We're playing Australia, who are the world champions, in Melbourne. That's a massive game and I don't think any of the boys would want to sit that one out. I know I wouldn't."

A mostly watching role so far was like being in a prison. He wants to bring plenty to the equation. "Leadership, ball carries, tackles - the whole shooting match. You just don't want to leave anything in the locker. In four years' time I'll be 33, pushing on, and I mightn't be there."

Foley turned 30 on Thursday and as birthday presents go, being named in the team that morning couldn't have been bettered. Even the customary bashing for birthday boys - being dragged around the pitch, partially disrobed and squirted with Powerade - was curtailed by it being media day, which obliged his fellow players to be mindful of the watching cameras.

Ever since Foley's second coming after the last World Cup, he had become a fixture in the side, playing in 35 of Ireland's 36 Test matches (only being rested once, against the USA on the tour to the Americas). But he missed the June trek to Australia after requiring a shoulder operation, and because of niggly injuries since he failed to last either the season opener against Wales or the World Cup opener against Romania, forcing him to miss the ensuing two matches each time.

He's wary of premature best wishes at the best of times, and even family and friends were forbidden from wishing him well at the World Cup until his foot was on the plane. The last two weeks though, were easily the most frustrating of his career.

"You've no idea, because I didn't know what happened. My knee just started locking. I thought initially in about a week it would be okay. Then a week turned into 10 days, and 10 days turned into two weeks."

He actually "nipped" a cartilage, which inflamed the joint, generating a lot of fluid and inflammation. All around him there was a great buzz in the camp, "but sitting in your room on your own is not a nice place to be". He began to fear the worst.

"We were actually talking about it. I'd said to the doc that if I didn't train this week what's the point in being out here? You've got to be realistic in what you're doing as well. Was I going to be jeopardising the boys further on? It was important that this week I got off to a good start and got through everything I had to get through. I'm feeling pretty confident with it now."

The pity is that Foley had used his extended summer to do one-on-one fitness and endurance work with Fergal O'Callaghan in Munster, assiduously watched what he ate and returned fitter, stronger and slimmer than ever.

Foley's desire to do himself and Ireland justice at this World Cup is intensified by his unhappy memories of the previous two.

"When I think back on my first World Cup (in 1995 in South Africa) it was a massive adventure, my first major tour. I'd missed out on the previous tour to Australia but was fortunate enough to make my debut against England in January, still one of the highlights of my career."

Foley kept his place, on the blindside of the back row, up until the World Cup. "Looking back, it was a bad way to be. I'd really just focused on getting to it, rather than focusing on what I would do when I got there. Probably immature on my behalf, and being my first tour abroad I probably enjoyed it too much."

He was reduced to a bit part in South Africa, appearing as a replacement once, against Japan. For four years he pretty much watched Test rugby, playing A games on Friday nights, returning home the next morning and watching the internationals on television.

"You feel like you're missing out and it should hurt you. And it did, because you know you're good enough to be a part of it, and you're watching a lot of guys you played with coming through," he says, admitting to a burning jealousy.

But he also concedes he had to make a massive re-evaluation of his social life: "Personally I had to make a lot of sacrifices."

The turnaround also had to happen from the bottom up, from club rugby to provincial rugby in effect, and this from a player who came from the top club in the country. Watching professionals from outside the fold, like John Langford, opened his eyes.

He had just started to reinvent himself before the last World Cup, but not in time to make the cut. "I still slag Fester (Wood) for Lens but at the time it was very difficult for the guys who didn't make it. Munster had built up a momentum but the timing of the squad didn't help."

Ireland paid a price though, losing one of their warm-up games to the Munster rejects (Foley, Mick Galwey, John Hayes, Peter Stringer, Ronan O'Gara and co) in Musgrave Park. "We felt pretty hard done by," recalls Foley.

Wood's role in Ireland's rejuvenation has been enormous, probably bigger than anyone's, but Foley has been another integral figure.

Ireland had sunk close to the bottom of the pit when losing in Lens, and were then hammered 50-18 at Twickenham, the game which actually marked Foley's recall. But still the Munster infusion hadn't been completed, with Hayes, Stringer and O'Gara, along with Shane Horgan and Simon Easterby, making their debuts in the subsequent game against Scotland, while Rob Henderson returned as first-half replacement.

Ireland won 44-22. In one bound they were free and the rest is history, but the seeds had been sown the week before away from prying eyes. "There was one training session after Twickenham when we went to Greystones. There were a few extra bodies there, and we were all pretty gutted after getting stuffed in Twickenham."

What Foley doesn't mention is that he, Wood, Galwey, Peter Clohessy and the Munster core were the ones who upped the ante. "We went out for the training session, and literally cut each other in two. At the end of the training session the team was picked for the Scottish game. The fellas left standing were the fellas who went out on the pitch against Scotland."

The watching Warren Gatland, Eddie O'Sullivan and Donal Lenihan duly took note and the team was picked accordingly.

"It showed in the Scottish performance, even though we were 10-0 down early on. We had the belief there that after what we had done to each other in training sessions, we couldn't face the humiliation of Scotland beating us on our home patch.

"We could have crumbled but we just pulled tighter together and ended up winning by a handsome margin. A lot of us put that down to the training in Greystones on the back pitch."

Eclipsing a legend like Willie Duggan as Ireland's most capped number eight is a huge honour for Foley though he accepts the games come by a lot quicker nowadays. "You just got to take it for what it is and move on. He's a guy who wore the number eight jersey and I just want to do it proud, so that the next guy who pulls on the number eight jersey feels he has something to live up to as well. You wear the jersey - you don't own it. It belongs to the country, you just try to bring it on."

There's still something bigger missing. Like winning something big. Getting out of the group was the first goal, but it is now only seen as a stepping stone.

"You're in a team that's willing to accept second best and takes defeats like water off a duck's back, and suddenly we're a team that hates losing. We don't want to lose, we don't want to consider being beating. Collectively and as individuals you've got to buy into the fact that it (losing) has to hurt. To not hurt as much you have to up your performance on and off the pitch, and I did that."

In many ways, no one epitomises the changearound in Irish rugby more than Foley.