Splitting hares on feral flanker selection
AT first glance you would not imagine too many links between hare coursing and rugby union (beyond a strong desire to muzzle England's Matt Dawson).
However, watching the National Coursing Championships in Clonmel, one was strongly reminded of Ireland and Wasps flanker Johnny O'Connor the big loser in Eddie O'Sullivan's selection for Sunday's clash with Italy.
There is a word I heard recently, and subsequently looked up 'feral' which refers to the animal kingdom and is defined as "existing in a wild, uncultivated state, savage, brutal".
Watching the dog's relentless pursuit of its quarry and the sudden athletic changes of direction in instant response to the hare's evasive actions, one could not but think of the manner in which O'Connor pursues a rugby ball.
Feral, in every sense.
Coursing is a sport (yes, a sport) that harks back to a simpler, primeval time, when the death of animals was seen as normal and everyone knew their place in the food chain.
Modern society seems to have become ludicrously sanitised, with a set of commands in place for everyday activities "please put that out", "that burger is dripping in fat", "you do know that goes with the recyclable rubbish?", "I'd ask you to please to remove your hand, sir".
And, although far removed from its earlier incarnation, with hare death now the exception rather than norm, coursing remains a regular target for the PC-brigade.
Granted, for the hare, coursing is no bundle of laughs.
However, if you were to conduct a vox-pop with a group of cattle, selected from the thousands herded daily into abattoirs, you would find sympathy for the hare in short supply.
Hang on, cows cannot talk, nor can hares, and until such time as hares are paying taxes, reciting Paradise Lost or playing the spoons, they are fair game in my book.
Now, back to Johnny O'Concrete and his ferality.
After receiving consistent superlatives on the back of his displays for Wasps in the English Premiership, O'Connor was capped twice in the autumn internationals against South Africa and Argentina, the two most physical sides in world rugby.
He may not have turned in man of the match performances on either occasion but he was generally deemed to have done well, certainly well enough to retain his place for the next outing.
The leeway O'Sullivan afforded the likes of Costello, O'Kelly, Corrigan and Dempsey when they were underperforming in the past was sadly lacking when it came to O'Connor finding his feet at the top level.
Denis Leamy, who replaces O'Connor on Sunday, is enjoying a stupendous season, but surely the feral one deserved one more outing to prove himself before being cast aside.
Leamy is an exciting talent, but he is a very different animal from O'Connor.
The Munster man is all about bristling aggression and barnstorming charges, while O'Connor's currency is continuity winning the ball, keeping it alive during attacking moves and then winning it back when the opposition have it.
Josh Kronfeld, who stands alongside Michael Jones and Fergus Slattery as one of the best number sevens to ever have played the game, once said that if he was taking the ball up in open play, he was not doing his job properly.
Kronfeld claimed his place was at the bottom of the preceding ruck or as the link man when the ball had been won by a team-mate.
For all his ability, Leamy is one of those back rows, like Ken O'Connell and David Wallace before him, who falls between the stools not an out-and- out openside and not deemed tall enough for international rugby as a blindside or number eight.
Which is perhaps why Keith Wood suggested this week that Leamy's best option would be a positional switch to hooker.
O'Connor knows only one position a feral, scavenging number seven in pursuit of the ball.
O'Sullivan has prepared well and has picked a strong team to chase Ireland's Grand Slam dream.
But having the most exciting backline in Europe is no good if they do not receive the right type of possession the quick ruck ball that O'Connor delivers.
One wishes Leamy all the best on his Six Nations debut but for many observers, including apparently Clive Woodward, the question of O'Connor's omission is a puzzling one.
Almost as puzzling as the one asked by a vegetarian the other night during a heated debate on coursing.
"How would you feel," she hissed, "if you had two hounds right behind you, panting and foaming at the mouth and doing everything in their power to pin you down?"
Hmmm ... pass the lentils.




