POOL SIX LEINSTER v SCARLETS: Rob Kearney tells Gerry Thornleyhe likes to stay as jovial and relaxed on game day as he can, primarily because that's what works for him
ROB KEARNEY is an easy-going lad, laid-back – as the cliché goes – to the point of being horizontal. One of his favoured sayings is to “go with the flow” and it comes as no surprise to learn that he rarely has trouble sleeping the nights before games or becomes nervous on match days.
Some, such as his good mate Jamie Heaslip, become so relaxed they have to nap in the build-up to a game, say on the team bus. Others are so taut they have to chunder. Kearney says he likes to stay as jovial and relaxed on game day as he can, primarily because that’s what works for him.
“Sometimes I’m a bit too chirpy and giddy before games and you sort of say to yourself ‘get your shit together’. I was like that last weekend, before the game, I was messing around on the bus and I said to myself ‘right pull the reins in here’. I think just try and go with the flow and whatever emotions you have just try and embrace them before the game.
“Everyone is different. But I think everyone is lucky as well in that from quite early on everyone knows what works for them.”
It suits him. If Irish rugby was to nominate a candidate to play James Bond it would probably be Kearney. He’s articulate, polite and generally conveys a good image of himself, his family and his school, Clongowes.
The second eldest, behind Richard and ahead of Dave and Sara, to parents Dave and Siobhan, it was through his dad’s junior rugby playing career with Dundalk that the boys first played mini rugby before attending Clongowes.
His father has “a real job”, ie stockbroker.
“He’s the one in the family making all the cash. And then younger sister Sara, she’s in college now. She’s the unlucky one, she has to live with rugby seven days a week and has no interest in it, so it must be difficult for her as well,” he says sympathetically.
He says his younger, who was recently upgraded to a full contract from the Leinster academy, is the quieter of the two and jokes that they haven’t spoken in months. “Christmas dinner could be a tricky one.”
As the Kearneys and others have demonstrated, Clongowes is starting to contribute more to the Leinster conveyor belt. Kearney loved his time in Clongowes, attributing the Jesuit education to providing an education for life as well as exams.
He has no problem switching off from rugby when he goes home or is away from the game, partly helped by having so many good friends from his boarding days, and amid all the heightened recognition this past year or so, he just, well, goes with the flow.
You sense that Kearney’s image is not something he carefully cultivates or is even too bothered about.
“What does a good image get you? It doesn’t make you a better player, which ultimately is what I want at the end of the day, is to be a better player. Fortunately or unfortunately having a good brand or image doesn’t really do anything for you so it’s not really something that I would consider overly important.”
His mental equilibrium assuredly helped at the start of this season, which he admitted wasn’t exactly how he’d anticipated it to be. He wouldn’t be human if he hadn’t been a little taken aback by returning from South Africa as a starting and starring Lions fullback to then find himself on the bench for his province.
But, having made his seasonal reappearance in the League win away to Murrayfield, he was confined to a couple of cameos off the bench in the wins over Munster and loss to London Irish.
His relationship with Michael Cheika may have become briefly strained before those games but, he says, nothing long term. He consoled himself in the thought that it could hardly be a form issue, and took solace in how he had played for the Lions.
A turning point was starting in the win away to Brive and hitting the line to score a try, something he had been working on this season.
“It was just trying to hit the line with that little bit more pace and going back against the grain. I felt that last year as a back line we were maybe sliding across a little bit. Possibly at times I was finding it a little bit more difficult to run square with that pace on the ball, so I was happy to get a reward of some sort on that.”
Kearney accepts that while Ireland and Leinster struck on a winning formula, hitting the line is an aspect of his game that he would like to bring to the table more often.
“And my defence, I still feel I want to keep bashing that home. It’s difficult to defend from fullback because generally when you’re making tackles you’re always left with one-on-ones and you’ll always favour the attacker in those situations.”
In that regard, he had some sympathy for Doug Howlett when side-stepped by Nicolas Durand last weekend.
Another ever more intriguing and difficult decision for a fullback is when to counter and when to kick. Most, increasingly in the current era of kick-pong, favour the latter.
“Yeah, it’s massive. When you do counter and you’re meant to kick, you get bloody punished for it; you have your coach down your neck and you have your forwards down your neck.”
Making the right call comes with more experience, and while catching and returning a kick with interest is one thing, sparking a productive counter-attack is far more pleasurable.
“That’s what everyone wants isn’t it? That lovely style of running from deep, taking players on, beating them. When you do get a line break it’s a fantastic feeling. But they’re hard to come by.”
Nor is it really something you can practice or plan for it. “It’s an instinct. It’s about getting the ball and looking up and is it on here to go? No it’s not, I have to kick it’. And there’s the work-rate of a fullback’s teammates in working back to give him options.
“Well, that’s the most important thing. When you feel those boys coming back it gives you more confidence so that if you do get caught at least you’re going to win the ball back. If you look up and you see all the lads giving it that one,” he smiles as he gesticulates with his finger to signal a counter kick, “which happens a lot, then you’ve no choice but to kick it.”
The sight of Kearney jumping to pluck the ball out of the air as masses of opponents descend upon him as become of the sporting year’s true defining images. While he’s been delighted with this aspect of his game for the last good while it’s only good “until I start dropping them”.
“But that’s a confidence thing too as well. When a ball is kicked up and you think to yourself I haven’t dropped one of these in a while then you wouldn’t have any negative thoughts in your head. So many teams’ game plans now are based around kick chase and high balls regardless of what opposition you are playing against. I suppose I’m just lucky that the strength of my game is where a lot of the world rugby is being played at the moment.”
It’s gotta be the Gaelic football roots?
“I’m sure Gaelic did have a huge amount to do with it, especially playing in the middle of the field where fielding is a huge aspect of it, yeah probably. It’s hard to know but I do credit a lot of my fielding skills with gaelic.”
Not that anything is ever taken for granted. Ever. In an interview in these pages earlier this season, Jonathan Sexton said that while he was especially thrilled for the older players who had toiled so long for Leinster’s Heineken Cup, he’d be pretty disappointed if that was the only time he won in his career. Therefore they’d better not be too content with their lot.
“It’s so true,” agrees Kearney, a year younger though established longer. “When you get a taste of success it makes you want more. Because when you don’t win a Heineken Cup, you can only imagine how good it feels; then when you do win it you get to experience the joys, the highs and everything else, and it makes you want more.
“I’m 23 now and, hopefully, I’d like to think I’ll have seven/eight more years in my career, and I’ll be bloody pissed off if that’s it!”