RUGBY:IRELAND. GRAND Slam champions. Sounds nice, yes? The barbs can be put to one side now and Irish rugby can hold its head higher than ever before. No more references to Ireland being chokers, and there'll never be a mention of 62 years. The golden generation have delivered the greatest day.
First off, this success was about the team. The squad. They’re all stars really, but there are no egos. The team adds up to more than the sum of its considerable parts. Modesty forbids of course, for Declan Kidney would detest almost any praise being heaped on him. But basking in the glow of a great day for everyone, and one of his mantras is that this is for everybody, he was asked what was the ingredient that pulled Ireland through the tautest of three one-score wins in a row.
You could have guessed the first word out of his mouth. “Honesty, trust, hard work, willingness to go the extra little bit. It’s like what I said earlier, nobody was blaming anybody. We had none of that, no cliques, no nothing. We gave it a go in the best way possible. You cannot overestimate honesty.”
Brian O’Driscoll spoke of Kidney knowing his strengths and delegating, but also admitted he had “an X factor”. However he helps achieve this honesty amongst the group, be it as a facilitator, organiser, manager or coach, his teams usually have it in spades. That’s some trick.
Honesty of effort, an unwavering refusal to let down a team-mate, being able to look each other in the eye and belief in each other. These traits have transcended all five wins of the Grand Slam odyssey.
Critical to that was a squad get-together in Enfield before Christmas. “That was our opportunity,” he admitted. “When November was over, we sat down. I have a brilliant bunch of team leaders, Brian, Rog, Paul, Rory. We sat down with Paul (McNaughton) and we had a good, frank discussion.
“We opened it up, asked the players what they think: ‘Let’s put it out on the table, lads’. It was nothing hugely scientific. I’m not saying I’m a management consultant or anything, but it was just saying ‘Let’s be honest with one another now. What are the (wrong) things?’ You’d be surprised that by talking about it, and a little bit of slagging, all of a sudden a whole lot of doors were opened, and we just have some craic now.”
Having removed a 61-year old monkey off the back of Irish rugby, Kidney talked about feeding into what it is to wear an Irish jersey, and the honour, sweat and toil that goes into it.
“I’d be a believer that you don’t ever own a jersey, you don’t ever nail down a jersey. You have it for one afternoon, and that’s your chance. You leave your DNA in it, and what way do you leave it? Hopefully the lads today have added their little bit to it, so whoever fills it in our next match in May, they’ll feel that onus on them to represent it.”
Kidney was so humble and proud at the same time, and so inclusive, he even mentioned the groundwork done by his predecessor Eddie O’Sullivan as well as the mini-rugby coaches who first gave these players their love of rugby.
Some people want power for themselves, some want it to make a difference. In a country seemingly short of true leaders in recent times, Kidney is a class act. Just what the country needs really.
In many ways Ireland’s slightly overdue Grand Slam merely highlighted better than any of the near misses how difficult they are to achieve. O’Driscoll repeatedly talks of the fine lines between winning and losing, the small moments that can decide a game, and this team, this squad, are all about the inches and the small moments. Ronan O’Gara had reminded the players that morning that these chances don’t come along very often, especially for the older players. They couldn’t regret not giving everything, they would be pushed beyond the pain barrier.
You think of Tommy Bowe and Brian O’Driscoll tackling Simon Danielli and Phil Godman in Murrayfield, and on Saturday of Luke Fitzgerald bravely putting his body in front of Mike Phillips in the 75th minute, thereby halting his momentum, and of Peter Stringer making the recovery tackle to prevent the Welsh scrumhalf scoring a try which might have put Wales 19-14 in front with less than five minutes to go.
Their honesty, along with O’Connell, Wallace and co punching the ball, and Marcus Horan, Jerry Flannery, John Hayes, Donncha O’Callaghan, Denis Leamy and Jamie Heaslip working their socks off to recycle the ball, made it possible for O’Gara to land the match-winning drop goal.
“I’d an awful lot of time to think about it,” O’Gara recalled afterwards. “I was roaring for the ball for 30, 40, 50 seconds, I don’t know how long, from 15 metres in. But then Strings showed great composure, I think he knew what he was looking to do. I took about 15 yards from Strings, they obviously got a running start. No way that ref was going to give a penalty; they were well offside. So I had to concentrate on getting the ball up rather than driving through like a normal drop kick.”
So much for cracking under pressure then, as the Welsh barbs had been suggesting. “Crack under pressure? I’ve won two European Cup finals under pressure, no-one of these Welsh fellas have played in a European Cup final. What are they basing this on? They’ve won Grand Slams maybe. They talked the talk this week but they didn’t walk the walk. I’m particularly happy in that regard.”
There was still, of course, the drama of Stephen Jones’ 48th minute penalty attempt with the last kick of the game, and O’Gara’s sympathy and embrace of Jones gave the lie to the notion that they dislike each other. Not even going to the theatre or the movies can throw up drama on this scale. Only great sporting occasions can do so, and everything about Saturday’s finale belongs in the pantheon of great Irish sporting moments. We thought Munster reaching their Holy Grail wouldn’t be bettered but it has been.
The sport that unites Catholic, Protestant and dissenter has had its day of days. Pity anybody who can’t enjoy it. Some day.
