BOB CASEY'S DIARY:The physicality on view in Dublin on Saturday night leaves us in no doubt about the enormity of the challenge when Munster come to the Madejski Stadium next Saturday
IT SEEMED like some night's entertainment at the Aviva Stadium on Saturday night. In 1999 I played in The Derby in front of barely 1,500 people at Temple Hill in Cork - that's how much things have moved on.
Straight after my corporate box duties were complete in Reading, I dashed over to Connolly's pub in Chiswick to watch the game. Not that I was draining pints, mind. I left that to old school friends and fellow London residents Dave Quinlan, Sully and Mr Leg.
We have a new post-match routine at London Irish that is a powerful drinking deterrent - the Sunday morning recovery session. Unfortunately, it works.
We beat Leeds on Saturday 40-24 to stay top of the English Premiership - not that we are getting carried away. We were in a similar position last season and are keen to learn from the mistakes that saw us hauled back in.
Our mantra is simple: no silverware is on offer in October.
No disrespect to our most recent opponents in England, but the physicality on view in Dublin leaves us in no doubt about the enormity of the challenge when Munster come to the Madejski Stadium next Saturday.
We will just have to trust our established routine.
When we are faced with a tough away trip, like last week in Newcastle, certain decisions must be made. We opted to fly up the morning of the game, giving us four hours to eat, check-in to our hotel and have a quick lie down.
Next, I get a massage and strapped up before a team meeting when Toby Booth and the coaches lay out our game plan.
Six or seven lads lift weights about 90 minutes before kick-off. It is all explosive stuff, clean and jerks and snatches, to get the systems fired up. I put a machine on my quads that sends electrodes to stimulate the muscles.
On arrival in the changing room our younger crew like to power up the speaker system. Put an ear to our door at this juncture - mainly because of our mix of Pacific Islanders - and it tends to be Dr Dre, Snoop Dog and various other hip-hop legends rapping away. Raglan Road drowns it all out as Luke Kelly comes on my ipod.
After the warm-up there is between five and eight minutes to go back inside your own head. This is important as you cannot be constantly taking in messages.
I like to write out my specific roles for the day and reread them during this quiet time (the head phones are on again all round the room). I picture lineout scenarios and how the opposition will defend against it, while thinking of ways to counteract that in the heat of battle.
The frontrow club really stick together. They are always whispering to each other about dealing with certain scrummaging techniques and angles - they get themselves wound up for the trenches in their own way.
Dec Danaher is our resident puker before we leave the dressingroom. There is always one or two who hurl as a means of dealing with nerves.
The ipad is the latest addition to our preparation. Richard Whiffen is our full-time analyst.
At half-time there is between 10 and 15 minutes, depending on whether we are in Europe or not, so it can easily be wasted if not planned out in detail.
If we are being tanked or just struggling, a big board will detail exactly what needs to change for the remaining 40 minutes. I may have to fix the lineout.
I am handed the ipad with clips of every first-half lineout, along with a shake to assist recovery and sometimes another caffeine tablet (I take about three before a game and while it certainly helps, there is no sleeping until 3am that night). I also get plenty of fluids on board as the physios do the rounds, check you over, restrap and ice if necessary.
The first two or three minutes is another quiet time. You regather your thoughts before splitting into forwards and backs. I speak to the pack about our defence and our hooker will talk scrums.
Toby then addresses the forwards, while Mike Catt talks to our backline in the other corner. Then we come together so Toby can deliver two or three specific points. The coaches leave and we have a two-minute huddle.
The focus must always be on the next job. That usually means receiving or chasing a kick-off. The next decision is to either go long off our outhalf or start working through the phases.
You can visualise what you are going to do. We are normally quite good in the third quarter of games.
I'm playing 10 years in England but I wouldn't know many players from outside London. The time when rugby was a great social sport are gone, unfortunately. But not it seems in the Southern Hemisphere.
I was talking to Danny Bowden, the Canterbury Crusaders centre, about the semi-final of the Super14 against the Bulls at Loftus Versfeld. After most Super 14 games, players visit the home dressingroom for a beer with their opposite number. When the Crusaders went into the Bulls area they noticed several differences.
There is a fully-stocked bar in the changing room which is adorned with a list of former players on the wall. There was a stage area where a singer was performing.
The shame about the Premiership being so corporate driven is you are whisked away to a box post-match.
Oh, to have a sugar daddy like Nigel Wray at Saracens. There was a bit of controversy surrounding Steve Borthwick's no-show at the ERC launch last week as Wray flew the entire squad, on his private jet, to the Oktoberfest in Munich.
From chatting to some of the Saracens lads, it was worthwhile excursion. The beer comes in a litre glass. My kind of place. When I retire, maybe, as the campaign gets really serious from here on in.
