Keith Duggan talks to Argentina's Augustin Pichot, a scrumhalf with poise, presence and a world view that stretches beyond the playing fields
In the damp and smoky woodlands of north Kildare, the Argentines are charbroiling steaks. Prime Irish beef, sizzling on an outdoor grill, the light noon drizzle causing it to hiss and spit. There is a salad garnish and bottles of red wine have been uncorked. Some of the players take a glass to sip with the chunks of meat being served.
The visitors have spent the morning training at Naas rugby club, a secluded ground located along a country lane outside the town. The heavy rain has at last spent itself, at least for an hour, and the players managed to run through their drills in watery but recognisable sunshine. This bonus, and the local hospitality, has cheered the squad and lunch turns into a raucous, celebratory affair, with Irish and Creole ballads sung with gusto.
"This is the way all our lunches are," smiles Augustin Pichot, Argentina's scrumhalf and sometimes national saviour. "Very bubbly and enjoyable because there is such a good spirit in the squad. We enjoy touring together and, approaching the end of this tour, is a game that we have all been looking forward to in Dublin. Everything is set for a great closing game and either we do it or we don't. But the tour has gone well for us and we could not find ourselves in Dublin in a better state of mind."
He has the traditional scrumhalf's lightness of bearing, Pichot, with quick, alert movements and inquiring, almost elfin features. He wears a stripy cap over his long raven hair and has white boots. Even on the squelching field, he is incredibly sure-footed and handles the dewy football with natural dexterity. He is full of little tricks and touches and it isn't for show because there is nobody watching the session. It's purely for the joy of it.
After a generation when Argentinian rugby seemed like the one-man crusade of Hugo Porto, he is now the unquestioned leader of what is a period of great accomplishment for the Pumas. Although previous players have been admired in the country, Pichot inflamed the local imagination and, in 1999, after the unforeseen rush to the World Cup quarter-finals, he found himself a celebrity, feted by Maradona and hailed by the ever put-upon president, Carlos Menem, as an Argentinian of inspiration. Pichot was touched and flattered but three years on is under no illusions about the state of the game in his country.
"I cannot ever see it getting any better than the current standard," he says. "Unless they change things radically and allow us into a regular tournament like the Six Nations or TriNations, that can't happen. There is nothing to build on.
Right now, people in Argentina get very passionate about rugby when we play in Buenos Aires, but it is less a big deal when we play away. For instance, our game against Ireland is only on cable television."
The loss against Australia in the River Platte stadium three weeks ago hurt Pichot deeply. Although he now lives and plays in Bristol, which he loves, Argentina is in his soul and the plight of his friends and family trapped in the economic free-fall distresses him.
"It is very sad. You see your family and people you know trying to explain how this could have happened and there is no answer. At least this is a situation which affects all classes now, not just those who were in poverty anyway. I think it has killed a little of the joy, the appreciation of life that people had in Argentina."
As a child of the 1980s, Pichot grew up during a golden if illusory period for his country in that he experienced democracy. His love of rugby was instilled in him by his father, Enrique, a first-team player at his local club, San Isidro.
Although soccer was the lifeblood of the streets, his father convinced him that rugby was a sport with the highest principles. Always scrawny, scrumhalf was the obvious starting point and it is a position that he loves.
During his teenage years, he devoured books about the preceding decade in Argentina, covering the dictatorships and the revolutions and the disappearances and that in turn brought him further back in the history of his country. Now, like many of his countrymen, he is both obsessed and baffled by his own country and agrees with Borges' famous declaration: "I come from a sad country."
"Yeah, yeah, I do. It is in many, many ways. It is an interesting place, I think, full of European things and ideas, but still with a separate identity so far down in South America. It is still very revolutionary in spirit - of course, there is a big Irish influence down there. And like the Irish, I think there is a very definite humour as well. People still want to enjoy life. That is why sport is so amazing, it can offer an escape to people and even for a short while make them feel good. So with Australia coming, we were really hoping to give our fans something to shout about, but it was a poor night and we are in debt to the people now."
Afterwards, Pichot was caustic in his criticism of the world champions and of his opposite number George Gregan. He is unrepentant a fortnight later, shaking his head and saying "it is sad that such a great team should visit and keep on cheating, again and again".
For him, at the heart of the sport's appeal are the values that he believes still hold it together.
"I suppose they are about everything that does not exist in Argentina," he laughs. "Really, rugby is about solidarity. It is a game in which you must play for somebody else. And there is the physical confrontation that requires you to look out for your team as well as yourself. Scrumhalf is an extension of the value of allowing or helping other people to play and I love it for that reason. And also, I suppose, because I get to make decisions."
WHEN HE looks at the current Irish team, Kevin Maggs is the player he immediately identifies and singles out for praise.
"I think Ireland will kick everything in Lansdowne because of the conditions. But also they will play good rugby because they are strong right now with really wonderful centres. I think Maggs is terrific because he creates the space for Brian O'Driscoll. What Brian can do is astonishing, but it is Maggs who creates those vital gaps that allow him his chance. At least that is how I see it."
Pichot has always had a singular view. Living in England fascinates him. In Bristol, he has been treated like a prodigal son and is enjoying his rugby. His lifestyle is good but strangely full of . . .
"Structure. That is the word. In Argentina, we have none. England it is there in every aspect of life."
The historical enmity between the countries means nothing to him; it is he believes the concern of the last generation. Not that he felt too great about things sitting amongst 40 Englishmen watching a lauded Argentina side crash to his adopted country in the World Cup. But, overall, he has found the distance between himself and his native city to be liberating. Art has always been his passion outside of rugby and recently he spoke about it in English newspapers.
"It is not something I am comfortable talking about in Argentina because the contrast is so great. Anyway, my last painting was a couple of years ago. But I showed some of my work to a newspaper and I didn't mind, it is something I like and am proud off. I like to take two or three months when there is no rugby and just paint then, I use it to unwind."
It is in his blood. The Pichots' European origins are in the Catalan region and Ramon Pichot, a great-grand uncle of the player's, painted with Salvador Dali and took him around the local fairs. Decades later, whenever Augustin Pichot sat still in Beunos Aires, he either read or painted. At weekends, he would follow his beloved Boca Juniors.
It was a nice upbringing and at its epicentre was rugby, rugby, rugby. It has been a fast life so far. Back in the mid-90s, Argentina was prosperous and rugby was an invisible sport, a past time for the privileged who lived in the old mansions from colonial times out in the suburbs. Pichot made his debut in that climate, in front of a handful of polite but indifferent sports fans who whiled away an afternoon watching the Latin Cup.
For four years, the Pumas stuttered on, sometimes respectable and sometimes not, but in 1999, playing for Argentina took on a new depth. For Pichot, it was an unforgettable year.
His father died after an illness in the months before the World Cup at a time when his place on the team was less than assured. Emotional and aggrieved, he came on in the second half of a friendly in Lansdowne Road that May and created two tries against the labouring Irish that almost turned the game around.
When the countries met again in Lens in the fateful World Cup play-off for the quarter-finals, Pichot was restored as the leader of Argentina's shot and thus has it remained.
"Because of that day, Lansdowne Road is a ground that is very dear to me," he says now. "It was a difficult time and I hold very good memories. Coming back to play Ireland this time means a lot and, for Argentina, it is a big occasion.
"It will be very interesting. We know what awaits and if it turns into a typical Irish game, we will try to confront it very quickly because if not the Irish can grow in spirit and will be very difficult to stop."
But if Augustin Pichot has his way, it will be a day full of great and unpredictable brushstrokes.
