YOU needed to see the drama of Leinster’s Champions Cup semi-final in its totality to understand the tidal sways of energy in a big game. It was a phenomenon in itself. It also presented an exampli gratis of a psychological implosion, meltdown or whatever pejorative term you’d prefer.
Five days later, I still haven’t worked it out in my head what Leinster were at in eschewing the late penalty and the three points to level the tie. It might be a club policy with Leinster even since Johnny Sexton’s time to go for the jugular irrespective of the circumstances. But surely not.
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