European Cup Diary: Trevor Brennan reflects on a week that culminated in him reaching a landmark in his rugby career
A friend of mind rang me on Saturday morning. He'd seen the Toulouse-Edinburgh match the night before and ended up having a late night.
Having watched our match in the pub, without commentary, he had a few more pints before sampling the delights of India on the way home.
There he gently opened the front door, took off his shoes, tip-toed up the stairs and slipped into bed without waking his wife but during the night he needed to go to the loo. Trying to make no noise, he discreetly went into the en suite without putting on the light and had a pee, whereupon his wife, seemingly startled, shouted: "What are you doing?"
"I'm going to the toilet."
"No you're not."
"Yes I am."
She came into the en suite and turned on the light. He had lifted the lid on the laundry basket instead of the toilet! Maybe some fellas can relate to this story.
We had a great laugh about it and I thought nothing more of it until later on that evening when I got a text message from the same fella. The message read: "I've just read an article on the consequences of heavy drinking and it scared the s*** out of me. After last night, no more f***ing reading for me."
Anyway, here we go. I didn't get a chance to put everything in last week but I'll try now. On Monday of last week, for example, one of our sponsors, Bruno St Hilare, who supply our suits, organised a big promotional stunt in which we wore our suits from last year at training. It was open to the public and there was huge interest from television and the print media.
We trained against the Espoirs, who wore shirts and ties, whereas we wore the full suits. It started off pretty slow, as most of our sessions have a tendency to do, before building up into a full-on match, with lineouts and scrums. By the end of it, the suits were in tatters and ended up in the bin.
For anyone who doesn't believe me, or who wants proof, just log on to our website: www.stadetoulousain.fr. Personally I thought it was a shame, as the suits could have gone to a good cause, but there you go.
Last Monday night, Nike had an inauguration night in Paris and a few of our lads flew up after training and then returned early on Tuesday for training.
Fabien Pelous, Fred Michalak, Jean-Baptiste Elissalde and Yannick Nyanga made the trip.
They went up thinking they were stars but the feeling didn't last long.
Nyanga was telling us about the night. Zinedine Zidane, Ronaldinho, Ronaldo, Thierry Henry were all there and the list went on and on. All the guests wore tuxedos and arrived at the ceremony in chauffeur-driven cars; and the red carpet, flashing cameras, TV cameras and screaming crowds made it look just like an Oscars' night.
Yannick said it was odd, because when they got out of their car there wasn't much noise and he could hear some people saying: "Who's he, who's yer man?" He'd been separated from the other players when signing a couple of autographs and went up to the entrance on his own, where he had trouble convincing the security guards that he played rugby for Toulouse and France, and although he'd forgotten his invitation, he had actually been invited.
Luckily a few photographers spotted him, started taking photographs and he was allowed in.
Fred Michalak was telling us that they were all given individual suites in a five star hotel but apparently Thierry Henry paid an additional €15,000 for a penthouse which, apart from a shower and a sauna, he couldn't have had much use of as it was a big night.
Wycliffe John from The Fugees did a few numbers and later mixed well with all the lads. He's a down-to-earth guy and they had a great night. Another story from the night doing the rounds was that Nike had asked Ronaldinho if they could put their logo on his private jet and he had reputedly asked for a sizeable fee in exchange. You get the gist. The lads felt like small fish in a big pool, but they had a great night.
On Tuesday night, the backs finished early but Serge, our forwards' coach, kept us out for some extra scrummaging. On the way home I rang Paula and she told me that Alf and Gem were staying for dinner, so I stopped off at a boulangerie and picked up a few baguettes.
Paula made a lovely curry. Later, we put the kids to bed and watched a movie called White Chicks (no, not one of those kind of movies). It was possibly the funniest film I've ever seen, a real pick-me-up. It was about two cops who are assigned to look after two millionaire's daughters, but they have a car crash and have to dress themselves up as these white chicks for the weekend. I went to bed laughing and woke up laughing.
On Wednesday, myself, Paula, Alfie and Gemma were invited to Aiden McCullen's apartment for a traditional Christmas dinner all cooked up by Aiden's beautiful fiancé "Redser", aka Niamh Redmond, a former Miss Ireland.
She wore her new Christmas high heels which her mum had bought her and looked about 6' 4". There was champagne and plenty of wine for the girls, and a few home brew cocktails made up by Niamh, while MTV was playing Christmas hits from the past 20 years. Myself and Alfie only had a couple of beers as the game was just two nights away.
The girls were in no state to do the washing up, so the lads headed into the kitchen where Gareth Thomas let out a scream and claimed he had been pinched on the leg. But it hadn't been either of us, and then the lights started flickering. Freaky or what.
Aiden's apartment is built on the grounds of the 12th century church, St Etienne, in the centre of town. You can see the church only 50 yards away through the window and I got them going by telling them that some of the lads in the club had said that the apartments were built on an old graveyard. Anyway, we talked about this for a good while and came to the conclusion that the apartments were haunted. Alfie still reckons he was pinched and poor Niamh is still totally freaked. She thinks she hears screaming through the air conditioning and won't stay there anymore. She is now looking for a house in the suburbs.
On Friday night I earned my 50th cap in the Heineken Cup, and celebrated it with a win. There were 21 with Leinster and 29 now with Toulouse. I've only missed two Heineken Cup games in my four years here, both through injury. My landmark was announced to the crowd as I ran out onto the pitch and I got a great reception from the attendance of about 17,500 on the night.
We won the game well and picked up a bonus point, but we picked up a few more injuries as well, and Clement Poitrenaud is out for a month with damaged ankle ligaments. But it was great to have players like Michalak and Nyanga on the bench.
Afterwards I was presented with my 50th cap in front of the Sky cameras by Guy Noves. He grabbed my hand and went down on bended knee to present it to me. So I got down on my knees and gave him a big hug. We got a great laugh and I proceeded into the dressing-room and did a bit of an Irish jig while the lads clapped.
The next day we visited some friends in Salies du Salat, Jean-Louis and Marie Hupert, a girl from Mayo, and the hospitality was great as always. I watched Leinster lose narrowly to Bourgoin; a cruel game to watch if you were a Leinster supporter. I really thought they played some great stuff to come from behind before being beaten at the death.
We're getting ready to play Bourgoin ourselves at home next Friday in the French Championship, and then it's 'hols' until January 1st for some family time and a few well-deserved beers. Wishing everyone a very merry Christmas and a happy New Year to all on that beautiful island I call home.
(Trevor Brennan's regular Heineken Cup column can be read on the ERC website, which is at www.ercrugby.com)
