Gerry Thornleytalks to scrumhalf Peter Stringer, the smallest man on the Ireland team but invariably a colossal pain for the opposition
This is the kind of week Peter Stringer was born for. A chance to eat, sleep and drink rugby. Not for him any Cheltenham distractions. Even as a kid, he only ever dabbled in one other sport, football, keeping goal in one game for Albert Rovers when they lost 1-0, scoring the winner in a 1-0 win when moved up front for another. But his devotion has always been to rugby.
Weaned on the relative professionalism of the underage set-ups at Cork Con and PBC Cork, he was never tempted by changing in portakabins or on pitchsides. And now that he is actually employed in a sport that has turned professional he is assuredly in his element.
"I don't know how many people can say they are in a job they love, and I'd be this competitive even if it wasn't my job," he says. "It's handy that it has become professional and I can earn a living off it."
As he has said, he's happier and can express himself better when embroiled in something he knows well, and one such something is rugby, never more so than in a week like this.
"I feel if you do your homework, and your study and your analysis, and you're fully prepared, then I'm happy going out on the pitch. It's just like an exam . . . . You do your work beforehand so that you're basically prepared for going out on a pitch, and I love that side of it, of trying to read a game, and also defending, and seeing where teams are trying to attack us, try to second guess them, and be a cover defender or whatever."
The more his career has progressed then, in harness with the upward curve of rugby in Ireland, the more his and his team-mates' horizons have changed.
"The highs are really high and the lows are really low," he admits, and even puts watching Munster defeats in the Magners Celtic League into this category.
"It's because of the standards we set ourselves, that the defeats do get you down and get you depressed."
Hence the reaction to defeat by France with that stunning, highly charged defeat of England. Yet the failure to reproduce that emotion and performance in Scotland was as frustrating for the players as for their expanding legion of admirers.
"We are trying to get away from that," says Stringer of any overt reliance on emotion, but while citing human nature, he also points to the contrasting defences of England and Scotland, the former granting much more space out wide, the Scots filling out the pitch and slowing Ireland's ruck ball.
"We've got to get back to the mentality of the English game, hold on to the ball, starve them of possession, make sure we get quick ball and keep them on the back foot, because they're probably the one team in the championship that get off the line and get in your faces. So it's about frustrating them as much as anything," says Stringer, also mindful of the fear Ireland might force the game too early with one eye on points difference.
"We have a chance (of the title) but . . . if we buy into all this talk of possible championships and points difference it'll be a tough day for us. We've gotta go in with the mindset of winning the game first."
Of all the selectorial mistakes Pierre Berbizier made it was assuredly omitting Alessandro Troncon from the 39-3 opening defeat against France, the old bruiser's return giving the Italians focus, decision-making and leadership.
"Yeah, I've met him a few times and had a few chats with him," says Stringer, ironically, in reference to one or two punches he has taken from his Azzurri opposite number over the years.
"I probably deserved them," Stringer chuckles. "But I've great respect for him. He's a different kettle of fish altogether. He's a very physical guy, but I think you can get at him at the same time.
"His temperament is probably typically Italian. I'll do my best to niggle away at him," he adds mischievously.
There'll be no more experienced scrumhalf match-up in this year's championship, the 93-times-capped Troncon versus the 75-times-capped Stringer. The whippersnapper is Ireland's most capped scrumhalf and second-most-capped player, leading a posse of colleagues in chasing Malcolm O'Kelly.
"Obviously I'm proud of it. These records are as much for the parents and family, and people close to you, and they're proud of it. I suppose it's something that when we're playing we don't think about that often, but once we're finished and hang up it's nice to look back on."
No-one's worked harder for it, but it's as much to do with timing as anything else, as he knows.
"I think if you ask any individual in the team, the life-span of any individual depends on how the team does, and I'm lucky to be involved with a side that's been winning . . . I've worked as hard as I possibly can but without the people around you, you're nothing."
And it's all about winning now.
"You want to look back on your career, the Heineken Cup, the Six Nations, the Grand Slam, the World Cup, you want to achieve whatever you possibly can. You don't want to leave anything behind."
