HEINEKEN CUP BRIAN O'DRISCOLL INTERVIEW: The inspirational centre talks to DONALD MacRAEabout the contrasting themes of ambition and doubt which he has controlled throughout his glittering career – and his 'flawless' matches

ON AN ordinary Tuesday night in Dublin, after a relaxed meal at home with his wife, Brian O’Driscoll settles down in his chair. Yet it soon becomes obvious why O’Driscoll has been the Northern Hemisphere’s most extraordinary rugby player for more than a decade. He might be rich and feted but the enduringly brilliant outside-centre is ravenous and driven.

O’Driscoll does not linger over the fact that in the Six Nations last month, when Ireland hammered England, he broke a 78-year-old record for scoring the most career tries in the tournament.

Nor does he waste time drooling over the dream of one last celebratory trophy before retirement. Instead, having committed himself to at least two more years of international rugby, O’Driscoll concentrates on the contrasting themes of ambition and doubt which he has controlled throughout his glittering career.

In the week of his fifth Heineken Cup semi-final with Leinster, at home to Toulouse on Saturday, he begins by addressing the distress of defeat.

“I’ve played four so far and just won the one,” O’Driscoll says wryly, remembering the three European losses more than the famous demolition of Munster in 2009 in front of a world-record crowd of 82,208 for a game of club rugby.

“As you get older the defeats become more painful. They definitely hurt more. Anytime you get to a semi-final you probably think, in your gut, ‘This is our year’. I thought that four times previously and I was wrong on three occasions. The ones that are really hard to take happen when there’s so much at stake. Essentially you don’t know how many more chances you’re going to get and that’s why it hurts so much.”

Even when asked a cliched question, as to whether he senses a similar mood compared to 2009, when the defeat of Munster was followed by beating Leicester to win the Heineken Cup, O’Driscoll makes an important distinction. “It’s actually a very different mentality now. Winning, it makes you hungrier for another. No matter how hungry you were before, and how badly you thought you needed to win it, your psyche has changed. By winning it a second time you copper-fasten the fact you’re a quality side.”

That very Irish phrase – “copper-fasten” – motivates O’Driscoll more than ever. “When you win one, after all those years of trying to win the holy grail of European rugby, you think, ‘Thank God we’ve done it at least once’. But that feeling passes very quickly. You don’t want to be a flash in the pan. It would be stupid to say there isn’t more pressure now – but we’ve got a great work ethic and good composure.”

Do young players like Jonathan Sexton and Cian Healy understand Leinster’s tumultuous journey over O’Driscoll’s 12 years of European rugby?

“No – and you can’t expect them to. A lot of these guys only know what it’s like to reach the knockout stages of European rugby. They’re not wanting to dwell on how tough things were in the old days. When we won it I saw a deeper delight on the faces of Malcolm O’Kelly, Girvan Dempsey and Shane Horgan. They had been there a long time, and tried a long time. The weird thing is that we’d made a semi-final as far back as 2003 and, like this year, it was in Dublin against a French team. But we lost to Perpignan. I remember coming off early in the second half with a hamstring injury and seeing it slip away made painful viewing.”

O’Driscoll’s nearest sporting equivalent is Ryan Giggs. At 32 he might be five years younger than Giggs, but remaining at the summit of a more physically ruinous profession for so long is as impressive.

“Rugby takes its toll,” O’Driscoll concedes. “Last week we had an open-pitch session for the supporters and I felt a bit like Mal O’Kelly in his last years. Running across the pitch, I looked like a 70 year-old man. And then I saw Cian Healy sprinting out and he’s trying to chip the ball to himself off the ground. I just thought, ‘Your time will come’.”

O’Driscoll might have lost his blistering pace but, in his head, like Giggs, he sees space on the pitch quicker than anyone else. The way he scored his record 25th Six Nations try against England showed he still has the low-slung acceleration and power to brush aside a forward as hefty as Nick Easter.

But his poise and vision, his versatility and resilience, are more evocative of Giggs.

“Ryan’s played some of his best football the last four years,” O’Driscoll says. “He set an incredible standard early on and he’s maintained it. It’s quite phenomenal when there are so many players and the turnover is so high.

“To be the constant thread in all those different Man United teams is remarkable. For me, it took five years to understand what professionalism meant. But I’m more settled now. I’m married, life changes and I’ve been lucky in managing my injuries. I’m ready for a few more years.”

O’Driscoll compares a brief lull in Giggs’s career five or six years ago to the way in which he also overcame a crisis of confidence. “You could probably pick out a couple of seasons when Ryan was not quite at his best with injury lay-offs. My most difficult period was in 2007-08. In the 2007 Six Nations I was named the player of the championship – but I had a long lay-off and didn’t play again that season. I came back very heavy and while I got into reasonable shape, that hurt me. I didn’t have it in the 2007 World Cup and never really got going throughout 2008.”

In the depths of an unfathomable low O’Driscoll turned to a sports psychologist, Enda McNulty.

“I had come across a few sports psychologists and I had no time for nearly all of them,” O’Driscoll says. “I just don’t think they work in a team environment. But I was low in confidence and went to Enda. He was impartial and good at making me answer my own questions. He also reminded me you should work on your strengths as much as your weaknesses. You’re renowned for some good things – so why not make them truly outstanding? Keep chipping away at the things you need to improve but if a player has great feet, brilliant defence or incredible composure, he should look to enhance those skills.”

As confidence surges through him again, following another outstanding Six Nations, does O’Driscoll still see McNulty? “Yeah, but not that often. He’ll say you shouldn’t wait until you’re playing badly. But I differ from him there. I really don’t feel the need to go to him much now. I’m happy where I am but I’m always trying to improve. I don’t know anyone who’s ever had a flawless game.”

O’Driscoll pauses for a long time when asked to pick out the game he came closest to feeling almost “flawless”. It’s a measure of his intent that he eventually picks two of them.

“People will think I’m saying this because of the three tries (which he scored) but against France in 2000 I was strong defensively, I was working hard, I was beating guys. I didn’t make many mistakes that game.

“Then, in 2006, a few people said I was done when I came back from my shoulder injury (after, as Lions captain, he had been brutally spear-tackled in New Zealand). I’d been back a few weeks when we went to Bath in a Heineken game we had to win. My whole game clicked again. The rarity of that feeling makes it stand out – because I set relatively high standards for myself.”

Apart from relishing a return to New Zealand this year for the World Cup, O’Driscoll reveals how tempted he was to play Super 15 rugby in the Southern Hemisphere. Before committing himself to a new Leinster contract, which takes him to the end of the 2013 season, and one more possible Lions tour of Australia, O’Driscoll “definitely played with a few ideas”.

He adds: “I was tempted by one season of Super 15. That would’ve been interesting and I had spoken to one person about it in Australia. I definitely thought that would be an opportunity but different variables in life shape your decision-making. I have a wife (the actor Amy Huberman) with her own profession that I have to consider.

“On top of that we’ve built something special at Leinster and that was a big component in my re-signing. In the end it was a bit of a no-brainer.”

It is also obvious why O’Driscoll turned down his invitation to the royal wedding. “I have a captain’s run on Friday and as big an honour as it was to be invited, I can’t ask for team runs to be at half-six in the evening so I can go to the wedding.

“The team ethos comes first, even after 12 years.

“I know William and he’s a nice, chatty, normal guy. On a conversational level with him and Harry, it’s extremely normal. The rest of their life is abnormal – for want of a better word. But Amy’s going as we felt there was an element of our representing Ireland as well. It’s going to be an incredible thing, with two billion watching, but I’ll be at home, preparing for Toulouse.”

Home life will seem especially advantageous on Saturday.

“We lost to them in the semi in Toulouse last year. But being at home is a big advantage. We’ll have over 40,000 supporting us and they’ll only have 4,000. It’s also about being able to sleep in your own bed the night before. It’s a small thing but waking up here, at home on Saturday morning, is really important.

“I’ll be up early enough for breakfast and lounging around, watching Soccer AM. I’ll make my usual lunch at half-twelve. My missus knows to leave me alone. She won’t be getting much chat out of me. And then it’s off to the game, like any other Magners League or Heineken pool match – except this happens to be a European semi-final.”

O’Driscoll laughs quietly. “Having lost three of them before I’m avoiding saying anything about gut instinct. Let’s just say it’s an opportunity for a huge performance – and a chance to get some revenge over Toulouse and to make another European final. That’s more than enough to keep the mind focused this week.”

Guardian Service