Saturday, March 13, 2010
The youngster I first saw 12 years ago was always going to be a cut above the rest, writes John Kelly.
THE first time I met Brian O’Driscoll was a fairly inauspicious occasion. Munster were playing Leinster in an ‘A’ inter-provincial on a Saturday morning in 1998. The previous evening, 200 men and one dog had turned up for the main inter-pro. I don’t even think the dog bothered with our off-Broadway spectacular, which was a pity, considering the quality of rugby that was produced. It was a high-scoring match with both sides showing a willingness to throw the ball around. I was partnered in the centre by Cian Mahoney who had warned before the game to watch out for their No 13. It was a warning I was to heed for the rest of my career.
Munster won the match but Brian O’Driscoll would have stolen any headlines, were there any filed. He scored two individual tries, created by his now famous footwork. In less than two years, O’Driscoll would use his fancy sidestep and scorching pace to burn the French in his three-try tour de force in the Stade de France.
In 2002, I was called into Ireland’s Six Nations championship squad. Injuries to Rob Henderson and Kevin Maggs meant there was space for a utility back and I got the nod for the bench against Scotland. It was a day of great celebrations. I watched from the touchline as O’Driscoll scored another hat-trick of tries. He was, by this stage, established as one of the world’s great talents. He had burst onto the Lions tour in 2001 scoring a fantastic individual try against the Australians in the first test. He was now not only a fantastic player but a marketing dream.
After Scotland there was a down week in Belfast to prepare for the Italian match. I shared a room in Belfast with O’Driscoll. He had to race off one afternoon after training. Back at the hotel, I bumped into him as he left our room. He was all spruced up and ready for some corporate event. The helicopter was waiting to take him to Dublin. He arrived back that evening. The duties done, he described the helicopter ride with a boyish glee. It was time to sleep and O’Driscoll commented I hadn’t switched off my phone — I never did, in case there was anything urgent at home. O’Driscoll innocently asked did my friends not ring me up in the middle of the night half-pissed, like his did. It was only then that I realised that this guy was still just a kid.
Under normal circumstances he would have been just a regular young student, out on the lash with his friends and hanging out til all hours. Because of rugby he had been catapulted into stardom and was living a bizarre existence of professional rugby, corporate do’s and helicopters. I was amazed by his ability to handle such a pressurised cocktail. But then I realised that rugby was, and still, remains his key focus.
At the 2003 World Cup, I witnessed how motivated he was. All professional athletes are competitive. But O’Driscoll’s competitive edge is beyond all others. During the World Cup, it was standard that our team room came with the obligatory full-sized table tennis table. It was fun for a while but then O’Driscoll picked up a bat.
HE was by far the best and would humiliate any willing opponent. The only person who could come close to him was his cousin and Irish team doctor, Gary O’Driscoll. When they walked in, everyone else in dropped the bats. They often had marathon sessions on the table but ultimately the more famous cousin emerging as the victor.
This competitive edge also appeared in training. Sometimes it had a mean streak. Declan Kidney was the backs coach on the 2003 World Cup. One of his regular drills involved four men attacking two different teams of two defenders. Kidney kept score on how many times the attackers could score consecutively. He also encouraged defenders to hinder the opposition by any means possible. Unwisely I decided to pull O’Driscoll back off the ball. He swung an elbow that missed my nose by millimetres. I was fairly quick at letting go of his shirt and realised if you mess with O’Driscoll, there is a price to pay. Even in training.
O’Driscoll had some outstanding performances in the 2003 World Cup. His try against Australia showed all his skill, power and hunger. He finished that try in the corner when it appeared impossible. However in 2003 and in 2007 Ireland flattered to deceive on the biggest stage. A few Triple Crowns and one-off victories against southern hemisphere sides was hardly an appropriate reward for the best ever Irish player and possibly even the world’s best ever player.
There was an anger about O’Driscoll up to last season. Simply being recognised as a great player was not good enough. His frustration at a lack of results with both his province and country was palpable.
But this year there has been a softening in O’Driscoll’s public persona. Leinster winning the European Cup and more importantly, Ireland winning the Grand Slam etched O’Driscoll’s name into the record books as a success. There is no longer that frustration. After his displays on the Lions tour last summer, some suggested the old O’Driscoll was back. I disagree. He’s better now.
Today he will be welcomed onto Croke Park for his 100th cap, as the complete player. He has all the experience, more ability than any other player and motivation second to none. And he is a Grand Slam hero and a European champion to boot.
Well done, Brian.
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