Gerry Thornley On Rugby: A day or two on and the feelgood factor, the smiling, even the feeling of buoyancy, won't go away. In this business we can be more prone than most to hyperbole, but Saturday, February 24th, 2007 will go down in Irish sporting folklore and Irish rugby history as one of the landmark days.
To have played like they did, to have delivered a victory like that, Ireland owes 22 rugby players and their management staff quite a thank you.
In truth, putting the game and the occasion in context, never mind doing it justice in mere words, is still quite a task. Nothing concentrates the mind like fear, be it fear of disaster, fear of embarrassment, fear of defeat, all the more so if it's at home in the greatest Irish sporting citadel and, of course, to the team not only Ireland like beating most.
And the fear, provoked in part by radio phone-ins, sections of the media, website blogs and wherever, reached a palpable, nervy peak in the eerily quiet build-up to England's entrance and, it seemed, the interminable delay prior to the playing of God Save The Queen.
The response then, the singing of Amhrán na bhFiannnand Ireland's Call, had to be experienced to believed. It all undoubtedly had echoes of 1973 and the warmth afforded John Pullin's England team for not following the regrettable lead of Scotland and Wales the year before. The pre-match pageantry, be it the anthems, Kiwi tribal dances or whatever, rarely scales such emotional heights. For everyone present, be they Irish, English or from elsewhere, it really was a privilege to be there. One English writer has likened it to South Africa's winning of the World Cup in front of Nelson Mandela, Springbok shirt et al, in 1995 in Johannesburg.
This was only a game, but of course it was more than that. It's rare indeed that a sporting occasion can make a nation feel as proud as it does in the aftermath of Saturday's 43-13 victory. Brent Pope had to field three separate radio interviews from New Zealand on the morning of the match. This journalist even had the bizarre experience of being interviewed by Radio Barcelona on Friday evening, to discuss the historical significance of this event in the context of Anglo-Irish relations.
By kick-off it really did feel the world was watching, and not just for the rugby. In any event, the whole of Ireland appears to have been. Mike in Marios of Sandymount said the village was so deserted it resembled Tumbleweed Town, and likened it to Italia '90. Someone else who nipped down to a shopping centre at half-time said it was akin to Christmas Day. The phenomenal viewing figures confirm as much.
The comparison with the exploits of the Republic of Ireland team circa 1990 are valid, for economists have since traced the birth of the Celtic Tiger to, amongst other things, their performances and achievements. It would appear that in the nation's eyes, rugby has assumed that role, for however long. Perhaps in part this is because the players, based at home, are truly of the people. Contrasting their media relations for one thing, they are certainly more accessible. Don't go changing boys.
Occasionally begrudging losers, the magnanimous generosity of England's coach, team and supporters in defeat is worthy of mention, and the value of extending such a céad míle fáilte to our neighbours probably can't be measured in pounds or euros. English newspapers have been dripping with praise and one of countless entries on a BBC blog yesterday encapsulates the appreciation of their supporters.
Bill Anslow wrote: "I am a diehard England man - played for 25 years, travel to at least one away match a season and rarely miss a game at Twickenham. I was privileged to have a seat inside Croke Park on Saturday. We'd been told by the TV ever since we arrived about booing our anthem and a protest of some sort aginst Enland. How wrong they were. Even though England was absolutely duffed up by the Irish it was a pleasure and a privilege to be part of a magnificent sporting occasion. The Irish, all of them - team , crowd at the ground and back in the pubs afterwards - were fantastic. They were all thrilled with their performance but not happy in our humiliation.
"It didn't take long for the post-match depression to get washed away by the infectious good humour of the Irish - as I say, happy for them and sad for us at the same time. Fantasic experience."
Rugby's popularity right now could not have been imagined in the '90s. It is in large part down to the IRFU's eventual reaction to professionalism and the work of the four provinces. Even the future is looking a little brighter after two grim under-21 campaigns, featuring wins over Italy and no-one else, with the Eric Elwood coached under-20s three-fifths of their way toward a Grand Slam.
Throughout it all too, the GAA have emerged with huge credit, not just for their initial and understandably difficult generosity, but for the dignified and helpful silence in the apprehensive, much-hyped build-up to this game and most of all for the towering sense of occasion their magnificent stadium provided on Saturday.
Imagine if this hadn't come to pass, and the game had been played overseas? As one English caller also ventured, during one BBC Radio Five phone-in on Saturday night, imagine if it had been a Republic of Ireland-England football match? Hats off all round then, most of all to Brian O'Driscoll and the players.
Whatever else, they will always have Croke Park, February 24th, 2007. In the short-term, reproducing such an invigorated, inspired effort in the confines of Murrayfield in Edinburgh two weeks' hence will be difficult. Longer-term, you'd imagine last Saturday would take some beating.
To achieve greatness, great performances will be required against better teams of course, and away from home, but one comes to mind. A World Cup final would do nicely.
