Superior attitude had Dragons breathing all the fire

IF you’re under 40 look away, because unless you are of a certain generation you probably won’t identify much with the rest of this ramble. For as long as I’ve been following Irish sport, I’ve been absorbing disappointment, to the point where I thought I was immune to further hurt.

I was wrong. The Grand Slam dream-destroying loss to France the previous week was bad, but nothing compared to this humiliation in Wales. Last week there was consolation, the golf win in the US by Padraig Harrington and the three big wins in Cheltenham during the week. For Cardiff, there is no consolation, none, never will be. This is an emotional hit that will take a while to absorb; rest assured, it will be a long time before I ever again have high expectations of an Ireland rugby team.

This year, we had a side of genuine class. But one week, seven days, two massive body-blows, one more sickening than the other, and we’re back where we always were. I’m beginning to believe now that I’ll never see an Irish Grand Slam, not in my lifetime.

I do not want to start blaming individual players or blaming the coach, there’s been plenty of that already. The biggest tragedy in all of this is for the players themselves, for their coach; our disappointment pales in comparison to theirs, because they know better than any of us, they had a chance at history, and they blew it. Ronan O’Gara especially is carrying the can, which is cruel and unfair, because he’s carried the team so often in the last couple of reasonably successful seasons. That’s where these two games were lost, you know, those ‘reasonably successful’ seasons.

Over the last couple of years, Ireland have given us some outstanding days, wins over Australia, South Africa, England, France. But therein lay the problem, and coach O’Sullivan perhaps was a victim of his own success. In most of those big wins, Ireland played shite rugby, boring, controlled, but because of the bottom line, the victories, that made change risky. We were trying to play the English game, when we should have been modelling ourselves on the French, even on the Welsh.

They were losing but were doing so in style, playing with abandon, coming ever closer, which encouraged them to stay the course. We’re Celts, for Jaysus sake, we’re wild and untamed. Did anyone see Kerry in the live TG4 NFL game on Saturday? They played attractive football, balanced, controlled but free-flowing at the same time, keeping possession with a series of flashing passes even in confined situations, creative, attacking, beautiful to watch. Laois did the same on Sunday, Galway in patches. Look at our hurlers and talk to me about Gallic flair, Welsh passion.

Look, we gifted this Grand Slam to Wales, gave away our own chance at history. Overall, one to 15, we have a better side, but we handed them the initiative, and the game. With inferior players in many positions, with a poor lineout and scrum, Wales won because they had a superior attitude.

A winger to me is a striker, a finisher, an out-and-out attacker with an aggressive and instinctive nose for the try-line. Girvan Dempsey was picked there, a safety-first, conservative full-back, nothing else, and that spoke volumes for our approach to this game. Where did all those errors come from? Junior rugby that was, in the opening quarter, bad junior rugby at that, of the kind that would have drawn criticism on a windswept open pitch anywhere in Munster, but it stemmed from bad attitude. Look at that blockdown, why wasn’t Geordan Murphy at home? Because he had gone with his instinct, attacked the line at a superb angle, but the pass never came. Unshackle these players. To hell with inhibition, let’s have imagination, creativity. Go down in flames.

The big worry now of course is that this will carry over to the Heineken Cup. Morale has suffered, and it would be stupid to say otherwise; psychological damage has been done to an already fragile psyche. To hell with this paralysis by analysis, we must start playing rugby with some abandon, with some belief in ourselves, our ability to convert. Not once this year did this Irish team look like they were enjoying their rugby on the field, and even Scotland and Italy were more entertaining.

Let’s forget about trying to play controlled, error-free, fear-filled rugby, let us unleash the fury within. We might even surprise ourselves.