European Cup Diary: Trevor Brennan on how he rescued the game against London Irish despite unorthodox preparation

Last week I was told I would be rested for the London Irish game to give my body a well deserved rest. So I didn't train with the lads all week: no lineouts, no scrummaging work, no team runs. The only way of getting rid of the sciatic pain in my back was to give it a rest from any type of contact work.

For me, there was some physio, some weights, more physio, more weights and a couple of hours on the bike. Basically, that's all my week consisted of.

When you're injured, this is the kind of work you can do, and the only other time of the year is in pre-season.

The lads did their team run on the Thursday - Friday was a day off.

On Friday I woke up smothered with a cold but had to drag myself out of the bed to go and pick up The Fanatic, aka my father, along with his boyfriend Kevin.

Beavis and Butthead were making their 52nd visit to Toulouse.

While I waited in the airport - the Dublin flight was due in about 20 minutes - a plane arrived from London full of supporters. From where? London Irish. Some of them spotted me hiding in the corner having my coffee. I was thinking, "This is all I need."

The usual banter started. Are you playing? Are you starting? Are you on the bench? Where's your bar? Where are all the good spots? See you later after the match. Best of luck but not too much luck.

Soon the plane from Dublin touched down and we were off, myself and Beavis and Butthead. The first stop was with a friend of mine, Mathieu Vidal, who owns a bar not far from the airport. It wouldn't have been the first time Mathieu met the lads and he greeted us all warmly; and so Beavis and Butthead started getting stuck into a couple of pints at 11.30 in the morning.

After one or two I decided to join them and have a version of an Irish coffee, only with rum, strictly for medicinal purposes. To ease the cold. It went down well.

The sun was shining. We were sitting on the terrace. The lads ordered another.

"Feck it," I said to myself, "I'm off this weekend."

Five or six hot rums later, the phone rang.

"Bonjour, Trevor."

"Bonjour, Jean-Louis," I said, to our team manager. "Qu'est-ce qui passe?" What's up?

"You have to come down to the club tomorrow. Jean Bouilhou has pulled out, and you're on the bench."

Well, that was the end of the hot rums. We went for something to eat downtown and then watched the Llanelli-Ulster match in the bar. Llanelli still look the strongest team in our group, but Ulster fought hard and came away with a bonus point.

I then went home early to sleep off the effects of the hot rums. The measurements over here are different from back home. They seem to put in more rum than water.

Saturday morning, off to the hotel, as is the ritual before our home games.

I spent most of my time in bed except when I had to get up for something to eat. I was delighted to hear on Saturday night that Ireland had won the International Rules; I had spent most of the night on the phone to a friend who kept me up to date on the scores. I'm looking forward this Sunday to flying home for the second Test in Croke Park. I'm sure the Aussies will come out all guns blazing but hopefully the Irish lads will do the same and will win the series.

I said last week that it was time for us to get back to basics and start enjoying our game a bit more, which is something I've always done in my time here in Toulouse.

I also said the London Irish game would be a test of our character as individuals and as a team after the thrashing by Ulster the previous week.

Watching London Irish run in an easy try after 10 minutes or so, and we were all of sudden 7-0 down, I thought to myself "Not again." But the character came out in the boys, and they lifted the heads. We went down and scored a try to make it 7-7 and went on to claim maximum points.

I came on in the 80th minute and turned the game, just before our fourth try.

During the game I had a bit of banter with Justin Bishop, who was water boy for London Irish. Early on, after their try, he came past our bench and stopped to talk to me: "Alright, Trev? See you for a pint later?"

All this in front of the players and the coaches. It was a bit odd, a bit mad, but very Bishy. So I said, "Yeah, see you later, Bishy, for a pint."

Guy Noves gave me the "look of death", as if to say what are you doing talking to him. Every time Bishy ran on with the water he'd stop and say something.

Sometimes he just shouted, "Yeah, we'll see you for a few pints later," and laugh.

At one point Yannick Bru asked me, "Is he laughing at me?"

"No, Yannick, he's not laughing at you, he's laughing at me. He knows me well."

"Because if he's laughing at me, I'll kill him."

"No, he's not laughing at you, Yannick. I promise you."

Later that night I did have that pint with Bishy as promised, along with a few London Irish players and a few team-mates as well as Beavis and Butthead.

As Paula and the kids were in Ireland and I was staying overnight in the team hotel, the two boys were left in our house Home Alone. But they apparently managed to make it down to the market on Saturday and stay alive with their pidgin French.

When I set off driving them to the airport I asked them again what time their flight was at. "One o'clock," they said.

"Are you sure?" I asked. "I didn't know there was a flight from Toulouse at one."

"Oh, it's not from Toulouse, it's from Carcassonne."

They'd come from Dublin with Aer Lingus but were going back with Ryanair.

"Jaysus, I won't be able to take you to Carcassonne. The best I can do is drop you off at the train station."

They weren't in the best of condition and literally just made their plane.

It had been a very good, open, running game, and gave a glimmer of the real Toulouse that everyone knows, but we're still not 100 per cent. I'd say you might have seen about 60 or 70 per cent of what Toulouse are capable of playing.

It was a big test for Yannick Jauzion, playing his first game at outhalf, where he did very well. Gareth Thomas coming in to play at first centre obviously helped him.

Jauzion got Man of the Match - though I thought it was a toss-up between them.

The 37-17 win has at least opened the door for us again as a team.

Monday was like a Sunday. We had our recovery session in the pool before I went into town to meet Aidan McCullen for a coffee, along with Mike Catt and Barry Everitt. The boys were all in their shorts, sitting out in 28 degrees late in October.

I gave Aidan a bit of slagging because we'd watched a video of them playing against Llanelli the week before, when he did a fair bit of rucking.

"The boys reckon you've toughened up a bit," I told him.

Aidan actually seems to be doing very well there and getting plenty of game time.

We've got Agen away this weekend, and they've won their two matches in the Heineken European Cup, against Edinburgh and Gloucester. Their confidence will be sky high and it will be a tough match, as it always is there.

I was supposed to fly back with Paula and the kids from Dublin to Carcassonne next Monday, but now I have to leave her to do that on her own as I have to find a flight to Heathrow at my own expense for the ERC Disciplinary Hearing for my alleged stamping against Ulster. This is the third time they've changed the date and it will now take place 16 days after the match.

It's the same for Salvatore Perugini and Omar Hasan. "Toto", or Salvatore, has been panicking all week. He is due to join up with the rest of the Italian squad on Sunday but doesn't know if he will be eligible.

Similarly Omar was due to link up with the Argentinian squad.

It's not too bad for myself as I'm not involved in the international scene, but it is a worry for the club. We've got to play Bourgoin, Albi and Brive without our six French Test players, and also without Gareth Thomas, Patricio Albacete, Toto and Omar because of suspensions or Test call-ups. We also still have the likes of Freddie Michalak, Yannick Nyanga and Jean Dubois injured.

It will be my first hearing since 1999, when my World Cup was ended by a two-game ban despite landing one punch and taking about 11 from Toutai Kefu while having my hands held down. Based on the "evidence" we've studied, there's lots more I'd like to say about this citing, which so far as we can see is for one movement down the calf of an opponent, and why it's dragged on for so long. But I suppose I better not.

A bientot!

In an interview with Gerry Thornley. Trevor Brennan's Heineken European Cup diary can also be read on the ERC website, www. ercrugby.com