The media attention has largely been on Brian O'Driscoll's phenomenal achievements, as players from all over the world have waxed lyrically about the Golden one, writes RISTEARD COOPER
ONE WAY or another, rugby matches are not decided by pre-match press quotes, but Warren Gatland seems keen that verbal hand grenades should become as traditional a part of the Ireland-Wales Six Nations fixture as the names Gareth and Guinness.
Of course in the Ireland camp this week the media attention has largely been on Brian O’Driscoll’s phenomenal achievements, as players from all over the world have waxed lyrically about the Golden one.
Although there hasn’t been much said by the former players on the IRB committee (which included Tana Umaga, by the way) who deemed Richie McCaw a better player in 2009.
The tributes that have been made are harmoniously glowing, the only discord seems to be around just how good he is.
Depending on who you listen to he’s “one of the best players in the world over the last decade”, “would most definitely be in most people’s World XV over the last 10 years”, “ . . . is the best centre in the Northern Hemisphere”, (my least favourite from across the water) “probably one of the best players Ireland has produced”, or (my favourite from across the sitting-room) “the best player in the world, ever”.
When pressed to add to these assertions at the team announcement, Declan Kidney wasn’t exactly rubbing his hands with glee. His way has always been to deflect attention away from the individual, but he just couldn’t avoid it this time, especially with the main man sitting beside him.
His contribution of “consummate pro, trains hard, good player” was the best he could muster under the circumstances, presumably he was just short of adding, “but there are other players who are just as important to the squad, like, eh, Paddy Wallace. Let’s talk about him”.
You’d wonder if he won an Oscar for best actor “in a leading role” how he’d cope with the speech. Surely in the heat of the moment even Deccie’s diplomacy would have to slip?
“Well, I wasn’t expecting this. I suppose there are a lot of positives in winning an award like an Oscar, but it’s more about the crew than the actor.
“You’re always pleased when things go well, but it’s when they don’t go so well that you’re really tested.
“Next year you might be nominated, but you might lose out to some bollox like Hugh Grant. Oh I didn’t mean that, shite. Oh! Or that.”
There was a time when the mere sight of a TV promo for this fixture was enough to fill you with dread.
The days when it wasn’t even patriotic to hope for an Ireland win, it was just stupid. Making yourself available to play for Ireland back then and opposing the likes of Williams, Edwards, Bennett and Davies must’ve been akin to the infliction of a self-imposed public whipping.
Ireland had some great players, too, of course, but they could never get their hands on that brown, soggy oval-shaped yoke with yellow laces called the ball.
That was in the days when replacements wore duffle-coats and teams stayed on the pitch at half-time waiting for a little frost-bitten lad to trot on with a tray full of orange segments. What would they all have made of scrum-caps, body-warmers and yellow boots?
For most of this decade, though, it’s been Ireland who’ve been pipping or whipping the Welsh, but this match looks impossible to call.
No less than the Irish, Wales have lost a number of key players along the way, and as I’ve belatedly given up Andy Powell jokes for Lent, it must also be acknowledged that the loss of their captain, Ryan Jones, is harsh.
Despite that considerable blow and the continued absence of Phillips, Jones and Jenkins, Wales come to Croke Park with a pep in their step and fond memories of two years ago.
In the lead up to that game Gatland was at pains to point out he had no ill-feeling towards Eddie O, who by then, clearly had his back to the wall. Time marches on and while there isn’t a big difference in personnel taking to the field this Saturday, there is a palpable difference in personality.
As Eddie O might say: “Sometimes you open the fridge door and it’s packed full of food; eggs, cheese, fruit. The next time you open it, it’s where you find your socks. That’s international rugby.”
Indeed it is. And while it takes centre stage again this weekend, it would be wrong not to take the opportunity to congratulate my alma mater, St Michael’s, on reaching the final of both the Leinster Schools’ Junior Cup and Senior Cup. Best of luck to all mothers in their quest for a hair-do on St Patrick’s Day. And may I remind a certain “White Fijian” number 10, whose talent is so latent it’s obvious we’re related, I need a ticket.
