Got the email last Wednesday. Filled in the form. Next came my time to arrive on Saturday for a temperature check. All the precautions you would expect from the Aviva stadium and the IRFU.
It's only when I walked on to the pitch for the Eir Sport broadcast – 2m away from Tommy Bowe and Peter Stringer, down by the Havelock Square corner where Gordon Hamilton and Mick Galwey scored those iconic tries – that I realised how privileged we were to be there.
Over the next 24 hours the enormity of the interpros reborn dawned on me. Initially, all the measures taken to get rugby back up and running – without the main financial driver of bums on seats – felt like overkill.
That Munster travelled to the ground in two buses made no sense considering they were going into a full-blown match together after weeks of contact training. That every player and coach wore masks for the initial walk through, again, seemed unnecessary. Seeing ball boys wipe down corner flags and sanitising the ball when it went into the empty stand was almost obsessive compulsive disorder. Nobody touched it because nobody else was there!
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I was scratching my head, “this is a little over the top, no?”
On leaving the Aviva after Leinster beat Munster the importance of attending to the smallest detail served to emphasise the true reality of our situation: this is not rock bottom for rugby. It can get worse at any moment in the coming days, weeks, months.
Last week the Munster academy player's positive test automatically put seven bodies into quarantine. Just one asymptomatic hooker scrumming down over the weekend could have dissolved the entire Pro12 season. It cannot be called the Pro14 after The Southern Kings financial woes forced them to stand down for the rest of 2020. Also, the Cheetahs are not allowed travel to Europe at least until 2021. The season will be three months old by then.
It's not about what you say, it's about what you do
The South African conundrum will run until the British and Irish Lions tour begins, or until it is cancelled.
The Champions Cup and the Test matches that are supposed to follow remain an uncertainty until we get clarity over foreign travel and quarantine exemptions. There are no guarantees that rugby can happen outside the Aviva. But now we know it can happen inside the Aviva.
You have to doff your cap to everyone who made this happen. People in professional rugby drone on about controlling the controllables but that philosophy – taken to an unimaginable level by Joe – is the precise reason the stadium could reopen its doors to professional sport last weekend.
A complete absence of political arseholery also helps. The players and coaches are sacrificing priceless time with friends and family to get the restart over the line and, now, to keep it going. They must continue to do so because the Irish rugby player knows that it only takes one idiotic moment – like, say, a cross-country drive to attend a prohibited social event – and the house of cards can crumble.
Everyone understands this inside the rugby tent. The real shame is that this was not the automatic thought process inside the great minds that make up the Oireachtas Golf Society. It takes some amount of codology to try and sell the public the "partition" excuse as sufficient behaviour to gather 81 heads for a boozy dinner.
Amateur hour is not an option for professional rugby during a pandemic. Neither is the feeling of elitism that clearly exists elsewhere. The consequences are too real. It’s not about what you say, it’s about what you do.
It has to be this way because sport is hugely important to Irish society. Our politicians cannot seem to grasp this (besides the previous minister for sport’s embarrassing need to have his photograph taken beside a Kearney brother, any one would do). And they never have. Clumping sport with the arts, tourism, media and the Gaeltacht was just the latest slap in the face.
Not being able to go see Leinster play Munster makes sport even more important to the people who attend these matches religiously. They have to find a different way to support their team; they need new pre- and post-match rituals.
Right now, the players are keeping Irish rugby on life support
This increases the responsibility on the athlete and I feel that the players embraced this over the weekend. From the shape of them it also looks like they embraced it throughout the months when the rest of us were being slightly less disciplined.
The quiet pint or trip to a restaurant – while sometimes vital for morale or just to say thanks to your partner – cannot always happen at the moment. We all know why. The normal act of socialising has the potential to take down an entire competition.
Unlike the recession in 2008 rugby is not immune to the current financial realities caused by the pandemic. Back then I remember realising how fortunate we were to have secure, well-paid jobs. We were still packing stadiums. A career threatening arm injury had me sidelined for the bones of that year so I grasped fully how fickle life could be in the real world but, financially, we could relax and focus on our craft.
Right now, the players are keeping Irish rugby on life support. Until supporters are allowed to return en masse, the IRFU are nowhere near the healthy financial state of February 2020. Everyone understands this. Even the ball boys. Myself, Tommy and Strings got our heads around it standing close to our old pal Keith Earls as he scored that spectacular try in the corner.
Earls took responsibility when the game was slipping away from Munster. It was almost as if he pleaded with JJ Hanrahan to give him a chance to run on to the ball.
The slate is wiped clean for Hanrahan, Conor Murray and all the other players who were struggling to reach their full potential before the world turned on its axis. A six-month layoff, while unfortunate for those needing surgery, like Iain Henderson, has meant Conor return with an incredibly sharp pass that had a look of the healthy Lions scrumhalf from 2017.
Leinster operates on a different standard to other provinces and that has been the way for a very long time. Their challenge is to maintain the standards of champions no matter what team they field. This has been the hallmark of their success since Leo and Stuart Lancaster began their working relationship.
That's why the link-up with the Canterbury Crusaders during lockdown was such a clever idea. I've no doubt the analysis done on them by Scott Robertson's coaching team would have unearthed weaknesses in areas they had never considered.
I am taking a small leap, but Robbie Henshaw's kick in behind the Munster defence for Garry Ringrose's try was born in New Zealand. How many times have you seen Conrad Smith or Ma Nonu falling on a Piri Weepu grubber in the dead ball area?
Now look at Munster's first try. Bash, bash, bash, from Damian de Allende, Chris Farrell and CJ Stander. No offence intended, it worked, so fair play, and their second-half performance showed flickers of attacking growth. Shane Daly was impressive, tracking JJ just off his hip as soon as they ventured into the 22. For Conway's try they combined with a subtle delayed pass from JJ and super awareness by Daly to get the ball to Conway, who did the rest.
Despite RG Snyman's cruciate tear, Munster can build on the roots they put down on Saturday (if Johann van Graan didn't know about Murphy's Law he does now). I think the arrival of Snyman and De Allende has breathed new life into the group. It was obvious from the way Billy Holland went about his business. There was a "welcome to Munster" feel to the local lock's display.
Isa Nacewa was a phenomenal athlete but it wasn't his skill set that made him the Leinster captain. It was counter rucking in Rodney Parade on a horrible November night. De Allende dropping a shoulder into Sexton's back – while it cost Munster seven points – at least showed that he understood the rivalry. As did the rest of his performance.
Speaking of intent, Connacht came out of the blocks for the first of two matches before a six week break, until next season, with the sort of aggression and ambition you crave from your rugby team.
Simply put, Andy Friend put one over on Dan McFarland in the motivational stakes. Friend warned us and sure enough, Bundee Aki was ferocious. How could Andy Farrell leave Bundee or Chris Farrell out of his team if Italy arrived in Dublin this weekend? Then again how could he not pick Gary Ringrose?
I really hope form matters when it comes to Ireland selection. I hope the players believe this too, because it would make for an interesting Leinster versus Ulster contest despite both having nothing to play for this weekend.
Actually, everything is on the line these days.
Leinster vs Munster: on reflection . . .
Speaking on television after the Leinster v Munster game I couldn’t sit there and ignore Craig Casey’s kick to touch to kill the match with Munster trailing 27-25.
This fixture means too much to me. The idea of accepting defeat to your fiercest rivals simply because the bonus point was in the bag must never become the norm.
I am not pointing the finger at Casey. The 21-year-old had the makings of an international scrumhalf long before we all saw him upending France's Jordan Joseph for the Under-20s last year. He was giving up 40kgs to the Racing 92 backrow.
I’m not so sure it was an individual decision. If it was, I’d respect that Casey knew the Munster pack were jaded – they were clearly unable to maul Leinster out of their 22 – and that none of the backs were roaring for ball.
I know what would happen on any paddock in New Zealand. Eoin Reddan, I am equally certain, would have had two or three probes. If, say, Chris Farrell was unable to make further inroads or the forwards were slow to present ball, he might decide, "ah, everyone is knackered here" and bomb it out of play.
It’s about the collective mentality. Are they going to chase two points against Connacht this weekend – in order to see off Scarlets – or go all out for victory?
Put it this way, I guarantee there will come a moment in the near future when Munster must travel 80 odd metres to win a game. Or to avoid losing a game. This was a live opportunity to find a way of putting Earls into open grass, of putting Hanrahan in a position to drop the winning goal. You cannot practice that at training.
Beating Leinster in Dublin has to mean more than a losing bonus point ever will. It just has to.
