A shell-shocked George didn't see it coming

TV VIEW:'WHAT ARE the implications of Ireland losing today," asked Tom McGurk, getting the day that was in it off to a bubbly start.

“Unthinkable,” Conor O’Shea and Brent Pope agreed.

But George Hook, unusually enough, couldn’t even find the words to describe how unthinkable it would be, although his glower suggested it would be cataclysmically, calamitously catastrophic, if a bit predictable.

“The three of you are being very negative,” said Tom.

“You started it!” they replied, which was true enough.

Over on the BBC, though, John Inverdale, was being audaciously hopeful on Ireland’s part, reminding us of our most recent sporting triumphs over the English, in cricket and horse racing. Granted, we technically lost 14-13 at Cheltenham, but morally we hammered them, with the bulk of their four-legged winners most probably Irish passport holders.

With hope in our heart, then, we went back to RTÉ, where George was describing Declan Kidney’s team selection as “just extraordinary”, suggesting that “Ireland are now a Formula One car without a number one driver”.

As for Jamie Heaslip? Huh. “He seems more worried about his last tweet than his last performance.”

Back to the BBC, then.

“So Keith, what’s your prediction,” Inverdale asked the Wood man.

“It has to be England,” he said.

Inverdale gasped. “Really?!”

“But I think Ireland will sneak it by a couple of points,” Keith grinned.

Conor and Brent echoed that forecast, but George – and you could have downed us with a feather – didn’t. “I would be delighted but surprised if Ireland were to win,” he said, “but England will win a Grand Slam.”

Midway through the first half and Ryle Nugent was close to losing track of the points Ireland were racking up. They didn’t just have an appetite for the game, he concluded, they were ravenous. “It looks like they haven’t eaten in months.”

“In case you’re confused, the team in white is going for the Grand Slam,” Tom told us – and George – at half-time. Mildly shell-shocked George looked, too. “I never saw any of this coming,” he conceded.

“You never bloody see anything coming,” Brent, you sensed, would have said, if he wasn’t such a gentleman.

“Where HAS this Ireland team been the last four matches,” Inverdale asked our Keith.

“In hibernation,” he replied, which is where Jeremy Guscott looked like he wanted to be, as he stuffed his “Grand Slam Winners 2011” T-shirt back in his bag.

Second half. A thing of beauty.

The only disappointment on the day, really, was that Martin Johnson proved to be quite gracious in his post-match interview. “Let’s take it on the chin, they outplayed us . . . they deserved to win,” he told the BBC’s Sonja McLaughlan, prompting us to look out the window to see if we could spot an airborne piglet.

George was being equally gracious. Jest. “In a way this victory asks a truck load of questions,” he said of the coach, at which point Brent opted to emote.

“You said on this programme that you didn’t want to see Johnny Sexton start another game until the World Cup – now he’s the best thing since sliced bread!”

“And Sexton was man of the match!” exclaimed Tom.

“And you didn’t want Keith Earls at fullback!”

“And he was outstanding!”

“Is this a lynching party,” asked George, “am I not allowed defend myself?”

Time for the BBC.

Keith had the look of a Cheshire Cat who’d just emerged from a creamery. Rather than exchanging punches over who should have started the game, Jonathan Sexton or Ronan O’Gara, he suggested Ireland just rejoice in having the pair of them at the country’s disposal.

He purred as we were shown clips of O’Gara’s contribution in the closing stages. “God, he makes kicking sexy,” he sighed.

“You really are in a good mood,” said a marginally alarmed Guscott.

Back on RTÉ they were still exchanging punches, but only, mercifully, of the verbal kind, so Conor called for calm, requesting that the panel chill out, just celebrate the victory and shut up while Tracy Piggott had a chat with Kidney.

“So few mistakes today,” she said.

“Ah no, there were loads,” he boasted.

“Well, the lads in the studio say if we play like this we can get to the semi-finals of World Cup.”

“Ah well,” he smiled, “that’s the ‘manicness’ of sport, isn’t it?”

Ah, too true. A cataclysmically, calamitously catastrophic day. For the Grand Slam-seeking visitors, that is.