"Whenever the Springboks are under pressure coach Heyneke has got this story about how charcoal under big, big pressure becomes a diamond." – Victor Matfield. Matfield could be talking about Mike Ross. First appearance in the Six Nations came aged 31. Forced away from these shores, rejected by Munster, spotted by Harlequins mincing looseheads in the AIL for Cork Con, Ross took the longest road before arriving as a national treasure.
Just not sparkly enough to be granted any more than a one-year central contract extension.
“The end is closer than the start of my career,” said the good-natured giant, more panda than gorilla, in Guildford yesterday lunch time.
Still he's the most technically efficient panda to wear Ireland's number three jersey in the professional age, as the absence of proven tightheads makes his presence essential as this World Cup journey seeps into October.
The man who will win his 54th cap at the Olympic stadium tomorrow will never be revered in the same light as John ‘The Bull’ Hayes, the ultimate in durable props, but he’s a better scrummager.
Always has been. Always will be.
An affable fellow, he warmed to the line of questioning yesterday. And not because we compared him to Jamie Heaslip. But in terms of making the Halloween weekend, Ross seems even more important than Ireland’s “freakish” number eight.
The Mike Ross story has already been told so we won't delay. Leinster took him home from Harlequins in 2009. Michael Cheika preferred Stan Wright. The Cook Islander's Achilles snapped and Ross was in. And there he has stayed. Declan Kidney preferred anyone but him until the 2011 World Cup before which Hayes, finally, broke down after an insane 11-year international career when most of his 105 caps spanned 80 minutes.
All of a sudden Cheika took Wright with him to Stade Francais and some former Manawatu winger arrived in Dublin. Three European trophies were gathered with Ross as the Leinster anchor.
In 24 of the 26 Test matches since Joe Schmidt quietly took control around the North American tour in June 2013, Ross has worn number three for Ireland. He sat out the Wales warm-up in Dublin and last Sunday at Wembley as Tadhg Furlong (perhaps the real deal, perhaps the future) relieved Nathan White.
“Joe just doesn’t like me off the bench!
“Ah, I dunno, it’s a nice record to have. Far better than the alternative.”
It leaves him ideally placed to tell us what’s changed, to chart the evolution of Schmidt’s Ireland since the rollercoaster truly began when sliced up by the Wallabies and then chinning New Zealand on that black day in November 2013.
“When Joe first took over the job Leinster guys knew what he was like.
Ingrained “Guys from other provinces not so much. Whereas, now, we’ve had two years of Joe, we all know what he expects, what he wants us to deliver. That really helps, especially when things are going quickly around you, in the heat of the game and you don’t have time to think so much. So it just had to be stuff that’s ingrained. That’s what we hope we are delivering.”
Has Schmidt the coach changed, we ask Ross, prefixed with the obvious differences between a style that yields success at European club level to shaking the foundations of the mightiest rugby empires.
“At the start he was probably relaxed a bit more. There wouldn’t have been an awful lot of pressure on him from the get-go to deliver good results,” he said, providing some honest insight.
As Cutty said, to no one in particular, on release from prison in The Wire: "Game done changed." Slim Charles instantly rebuked: "Game the same, just got more fierce."
Ross succinctly touches upon the difference between Ireland teams before and since Schmidt’s reign began.
“For an Irish team we always have to have the emotion. What Joe’s done is taken that and added the accuracy as well so we are not just relying on those one big emotional performances. There is consistency as well now.”
Ross being the model of this consistency.
“I always joke if you don’t carry the ball you won’t get injured.
“I’ve been lucky too but I came to professionalism late. I haven’t been doing this since I was 19, 20. I was 26 so I had a bit more time to mature as a player before I started taking the professional-size hits.”
At 6ft 2in, 20-plus stone and 35 years young, Ireland’s scrum is built on his back.
“If the scrum doesn’t go well that night you will be staring at the ceiling.”
He still shudders at the Springbok nightmare in November 2014, despite the 29-15 victory, when the Du Plessis brothers and Tendai Mtawarira illegally ruptured them, Romain Poite allowing the Boks hit and chase for 40 minutes.
Stern challenge
“It was certainly a good lesson to learn. It’s well oiled now but the Italians most certainly pose a stern challenge in that area.
“For the Italians it is their mojo. If it isn’t going well the effects can be seen throughout the team. If it’s going well and they are on top and winning penalties you see them visibility boosted by it.
“Listen to the ref audio next time they get a scrum penalty. You hear a big scream out of them and they try to walk over the ball. They are all slapping each other, Parisse is giving them socks. It’s a big area for them, it’s something they are all proud of.”
Not on this man’s potentially last watch.
“What!?”
Sorry, last World Cup?
“What!?”
He knows how it all works. He’s seen the game change. Seen it get more fierce.
