Gerry Thornleyprofiles the new Ireland head coach and gives an insight into the unique skills and idiosyncrasies he will bring to the set-up

BEFORE PLAYING Saracens in the Heineken Cup in October 1999, Declan Kidney initiated a Munster squad meeting by wearing a Fez and manipulating a mobile kicking tee with a remote control. The giggles among assembled players turned into laughter as Kidney, seemingly, made a fool of himself.

But it was his way of trying to prepare them for the unfamiliar distractions that lay ahead at Vicarage Road against the all-singing, all-dancing Sarries' team captained by Francois Pienaar. Indeed, the notion of dancing girls, loud music blasting out of the PA system, mobile kicking tees and Fez-wearing supporters in the more glamorous, big-sell world of the English Premiership was a long way from the traditional pre-match pageantry at Thomond Park or Musgrave Park.

Munster dutifully trained that week to the backdrop of loud music blaring out of the Thomond Park PA system. Braced for all these distractions, Munster went on to beat Saracens 35-34, and won an epic return in Thomond Park by 31-30 to secure qualification for the knock-out stages. That was the campaign which marked the birth of the Red Army in Bordeaux for Munster's sensational 31-25 semi-final win over Toulouse and the beginning of their Magnificent Obsession with the 9-8 defeat in the final to Northampton at Twickenham.

Kidney's unusual approach to that team meeting was probably no more than a minor detail in their success, but serves to underline his sometimes quixotic and unique motivational skills. Disparagingly and unfairly deemed a spoon-bender by some, Kidney clearly has a unique gift for coaching.

He sees himself solely as "a facilitator", who is there merely to create the conditions and environment under which the players can best perform, though in modestly playing down his own role he sells himself short.

Training sessions under his command are often stopped suddenly by a loud shrill of his whistle, as he asks players to evaluate what they should do next. He is not a dictatorial head coach. He likes his players to think for themselves. Off the pitch, almost Don Revie or Brian Clough-like, he treats them as human beings first, and players second.

He is not a noted proponent of impact replacements, often making little use of them, though his selections have become bolder - witness the recent promotions of Denis Hurley, Tomás O'Leary and Donncha Ryan. His teams wouldn't necessarily be noted for a stylish brand of rugby, more a winning one, but like Munster, he has evolved as a coach over the years, and is much more inclined to take on and listen to expertise around him.

A former schoolteacher, in the past he could be a little strait-laced, once chastising a player for celebrating a late match-winning try the previous Saturday. Against that, the values he encouraged in all his teams ensured they invariably played with incredible honesty, the sum of the parts somehow seeming to add up to more than the whole. Pride and place were common themes, as players learned they were merely passing through, and were temporary custodians of the jersey. No team under Kidney's command suffers "stars".

It's true that some players grew a tad weary of what they see as a "head-wrecking", teacher-pupil relationship. He did not leave Leinster in happy circumstances after one season there.

Some Leinster and Munster players will be less enthused than others, and may well have preferred a fresher voice, witness recent comments by Malcolm O'Kelly and Victor Costello in tandem with Brian O'Driscoll's observations in his book, A Year In the Centre. But the latter was as much a reflection of the nature of Kidney's departure and whether captain or not, a re-energised O'Driscoll will give nothing less than total commitment to Kidney and Ireland, beginning with this summer's tour.

By all accounts, Kidney's impending anointment has not been the subject of much discussion in the Leinster dressingroom.

One of their number did admit privately that while he always enjoyed a good relationship with Kidney, others less so, but another of their Irish contingent argued passionately and persuasively that Kidney's record brooked no argument. "In any other country, it (his appointment) wouldn't be an issue."

What issues they may have had, would have concerned the quality of the coaching ticket and it being all-Munster. It's likely composition will assuage those concerns.

If anything, the concerns are greater in Munster's environs, but with Ireland they'll be coming into contact with him less than were he to remain with Munster.

Yet in arguing against Kidney becoming Irish coach, one of their international contingent explained: "I don't want to disrupt what's working here."

As another of them reasoned in favour of Kidney becoming the Irish coach: "He's a born winner. Wherever he goes, his teams win."

Indeed, they need only look at his record.

After a battery of schools' cup successes with his beloved "Pres" in Cork, a stunning promotion from Division Two of the All-Ireland League with effectively the same Dolphin squad that had been nearly relegated the previous year was a precursor to two spells of four and three years with Munster. He was not the first choice in 1997, yet much of what has been good in Irish rugby this past decade has emanated from his Munster teams.

In his last six campaigns with Munster, he has helped guide them to four Heineken Cup finals, including the Holy Grail of 2006. It's also not true to say that his methods only work in the confines of Munster, witness the Irish Under-19s victory at the FIRA World Cup in 1998, an Irish Schools Triple Crown and an Irish A Grand Slam. All of this explains why so many other coaches, be it Matt Williams, Michael Cheika, Alan Gaffney or Warren Gatland, endorsed Kidney's candidature.

Accepting the IRFU offer would not have been straightforward for Kidney who, true to type, would have agonised over it. But ultimately, he would have reasoned that he cannot encourage players to continually better themselves and aspire to play for Ireland, if he wasn't prepared to do so as a coach himself.

In his first spell as Munster coach, even for journalists, he was an inspiring figure to be around, especially in the way he talked up the sporting successes of such a small nation. Away from the glare of publicity, he can be engaging company as well as a deep thinker about the game, invariably putting the sport in the context of other sports or life.

However, his time as Irish assistant coach seemed to scar him slightly. Essentially a private, family man, the least enjoyable aspect of this job (apart from losing or telling a player he's been omitted) will be the increased profile of being Irish coach.

In Munster's more intimate environment, he could pretty much dictate the terms under which he dealt with the media and by extension the public. Put another way, one ventures that come a Tuesday of an international week when protocol demands the announcement of an Irish team, Kidney will not be bounding out of bed, opening his curtains and shouting: "Yippee, it's media day."

One hopes he rediscovers that bit of his old self, and that he has an enjoyable and fruitful three years-and-a-bit at the helm. Only the most mean-spirited would deny him that, or that he doesn't deserve this opportunity, for no Irish coach has ever achieved more before assuming the reins with Ireland. Not before time, Ireland are about to have their Kidney transplant.