Amid pride and passion, it’s time for clear heads at Ireland
I remember exactly where I was for the anthems. You couldn’t forget the silence and respect that accompanied God Save The Queen, and then when it was our turn to sing, I’ve never heard Amhrán na bhFiann — or any anthem — sung like it was that day. An extra 30,000 people in the stadium makes a massive difference.
Although social media wasn’t a factor back then, you couldn’t escape the anxiety that was there in advance. Everything related back to the political and historical background, and you wondered what kind of crowd would turn up. Nobody imagined that we would have a repeat of the 1995 soccer international where the seats were ripped out of Lansdowne Road or anything like that, but there was a nervousness there and the players felt it too.
It was certainly a motivating factor. We weren’t just representing the Irish rugby team that day, we were representing the people of Ireland, and when you get that rare honour it’s hugely powerful. John Hayes’ reaction during the anthems showed that — nine times out of 10 he’s emotionless — but everyone was holding back tears and feeling it to some degree.
I consider myself very privileged to have played that day, but it came with big responsibility — imagine being part of the team who had lost to England at the site of Bloody Sunday. It would be hard to look at yourself in the mirror that night and call yourself a proud Irishman.
We won 43-13, and it’s easy to say with hindsight that England never stood a chance, given the emotional intensity of the occasion for us. But it could easily have gone the other way and overpowered us, and we know we had to go after them from the off.
There’s always a fear factor in these games, as you never want to lose to England, but that victory in 2007 was our fourth in a row against them and we won three of the next four as well. The one we lost during that run, in 2008, is a day I’ve forgotten as much about as I can.
We went 10-0 up but then they replied with 33 unanswered points; Danny Cipriani had a cracker and I was captain that day. It was awful.
Prior to that, Ireland sides always had trouble getting consistent success against England. I came off the bench and kicked a few points when we beat them in the foot and mouth game in 2001, but that was only Ireland’s third win in 15 attempts. It got worse before it got better. We took a 30-point hammering in 2002, but we now know what England were building towards at that stage.
In 2003, they came to Dublin with a Grand Slam on the line for both teams, but they belted us 42-6. We were nowhere near them. There was the shenanigans beforehand with the red carpet, but if I was Martin Johnson, I wouldn’t have moved either. You can’t be seen to show any weakness. You can say what you want about him but he’s a gentleman, and he’s respectful; I don’t think he knew anything about the protocols.
England had blown a few Grand Slam deciders in previous years, but on this occasion they were the ones at a different pitch emotionally. Jonny Wilkinson gave a kicking exhibition, with some unbelievable drop goals off either foot. My first taste of the game was to get steamrolled by Will Greenwood — it wasn’t pretty. That team contained some of the greatest players ever to play for England, and some of the best who’ve ever played the game full stop.
Johnson, Richard Hill, Lawrence Dallaglio, Neil Back, Matt Dawson, Wilkinson, Greenwood, Jason Robinson — they were all part of a seriously fluid side who were only six months away from winning the World Cup, and we got caught in the crossfire. We didn’t really appreciate the size of the task ahead of us. When you get walloped like that, you take it on the chin and move on, no excuses. They were superior in every respect.
The nature of that defeat made it all the better when we mugged them at Twickenham the following year. England were the world champions, unbeaten at home for 22 games. But they had no Johnson and, most importantly, no Wilkinson, and it made a bigger difference than I think they had banked on.
Kevin Maggs came off the bench for Girvan Dempsey that day and I’ve never seen someone take so much satisfaction from beating England. Maggsy was an Englishman playing for Ireland, but there were fewer unusual accents in the dressing room back then, certainly compared to today. He was fiercely proud of his Irish roots and when he spoke, everyone listened. He left us under no illusions beforehand — this was war.
All great speakers have to be able to back up what they say on the pitch and Maggsy had no issues there, just like Paul O’Connell now. Paul would have had a great learning period when he started with Munster — Mick Galwey, Peter Clohessy, Killian Keane, John Kelly and Anthony Foley were all fantastic motivators. There was rarely a dry eye in the room when Gaillimh spoke — often because he’d be crying himself — and that’s where the standards were set.
Sometimes it went too far; we lost the 2000 Heineken Cup final partially because we were emotionally drained. The game has obviously evolved now and you can’t reply on emotional intelligence or intensity to get you over the line any more, but this is where O’Connell excels — he has the fire and the strategy. The latter is what’s required this weekend. The 2004 win began a fine streak for Ireland against England but things are different now, having lost the last four on the trot.
So much of our recent history with England has been coloured by emotions running high, but clear heads are more important now. They know what’s at stake and won’t lack for motivation — and I expect that on home turf, where Australia and South Africa have already been beaten, Ireland will be one score too good for England.
