Figuratively, the Heineken Cup is getting a little hot under the collar, and, literally, at any rate, nowhere will it be warmer than for Leinster's tie with Milan in Calvisano, about 90 minutes drive west of Milan near Brescia in the northern mainland.

The temperature was in the high 70s at kick-off time here yesterday, conditions which will test the short fuses in the Leinster team, never mind the excitable Italians. Prior to the game, Leinster coach Mike Ruddock underlined the need for self control, effectively at the behest of tournament director Roger Pickering.

After the midweek prevarication of the ERC board in Dublin, when no sanctions were agreed in light of the infamous Brive-Pontypridd affair prior to another board meeting on Monday, a frustrated Pickering is clearly scenting blood.

It wasn't just the fall-out from the Brive-Pontypridd contest. Another tempestuous French-Welsh clash between Llanelli and Pau saw several free-for-alls and one blatant head-butting go unpunished. Even the yellow card has been fairly conspicuous by its absence so far.

It would have helped had the ERC board taken swift and decisive action. Granted, once the group rivals Bath and Scottish Borders began talking of lost revenue should Pontypridd be expelled or Brive granted a postponement, there was never much likelihood of anything too drastic. Nothing talks quite like money in modern day sport.

But heavy fines, and the sternest of warnings about their future conduct and any failure to fulfill their return meeting, would at least have put the matter to rest.

Instead, after a week of trial by television and media examination, and mindful of the cup's dented image as a world rival to the southern hemisphere's Super 12, Heineken Cup referees have to be seen to take firmer action. Pickering has effectively given them carte blanch to do so by accompanying his letter to the participants via the Unions with a missive to the referees through the same chain reminding them to assert their authority.

"Referees who act in this manner will receive the full backing of the ERC board. Those players and clubs who fail to play within the rules will face stern disciplinary action." Red, as well as yellow, cards seem inevitable this weekend.

Ruddock has put his finger in the air and tested the temperature. The need for self-discipline will probably never be more acute. As for the weather, the Irish management are not overtly concerned.

Nevertheless, there was an unscheduled pit stop en route from Milan airport to Brescia at the behest of manager Jim Glennon "to take on liquids". That would have had an altogether different meaning in the amateur era of not long ago but these days it means refuelling with water and other soft drinks which are `isotonic' and ending in `ade'.

The Irish management detected a bit of classic Italian brinkmanship before the game, not one offical meeting them at the airport or the hotel. "We were told that the coach journey from the airport to the hotel would take 40 minutes but instead it took one and three-quarter hours (in a coach without air conditioning) which, even allowing for a 15 minute stop, was twice as long as we told."

Thus match time (4.0 p.m. locally, 3.0 Irish) came and went before the team arrived in the fourstar Park Hotel on the outskirts of Brescia. "We had been told that the ground was 20 minutes away but then we were told that it was another 40 minutes away, which could mean anything." So they aborted the planned training run in Calvisano, much to the displeasure of the Italians.

A walkabout failed to find an alternate green field and so some loosening exercises and line-out drills were conducted on the hotel's front lawn. It's probably the only known case of a rugby writer being driven through the gap between line and thrower by taxi.

Calvisano will have to wait until today then, though judging by Sky Sports' brief snippets last week the crowd of 2,000-4,000 are well away from the pitchside in a none too intimidating environment.

Brescia itself is best known for its arms industry. Yesterday, it looked more of a typically flat industrial continental town than anything classically Italian, rimmed in by woodland which was blanketed in a haze of heat.

But there are the pizza ristorantes, the cafes and the four pedestrianised piazzas around which local human life struts. And like all Italians, whether they have two lira to rub together or not (and it's 25,000 lira to the Irish pound at the moment) they mostly drive nice cars, though even on mopeds or walking, they're all dressed to kill.

And boy, do they strut.