Where there’s a Willie, there’s a way

EVERYONE dreams of winning the lotto, or at least of marrying money.

Irrespective of how one arrives at one’s fantasy fortune, a popular public house discussion revolves around how to spend it.

Given the fascination Irish people have with property and the price of houses, many would begin with a dream mansion (with a granny-flat out back for mammy) and then progress down through the check-list of fancy cars, luxury cruises and the other trappings of a moneyed existence.

My own fantasy, admittedly a rather dangerous one, has always been to own a pub. Not too big, not too small, it would be furnished entirely in dark wood and stock snuff, large bottles of Guinness (off the shelf) and not a single alco-pop.

Musically, it would be a blues and rock establishment, the walls peppered with pictures of Rory Gallagher, Jimi Hendrix, Phil Lynott and Robert Johnson.

The only dress code would be no Celtic (or indeed Rangers) jerseys and everyone, be they politicians, travellers, ex-GAA presidents or members of Cork Constitution would be welcomed inside. In fact, the only people I would consider barring would be that dragon of a landlady who wouldn’t return my deposit a few years ago (a few stains on the walls, so what?) and, rather bizarrely, Matt Williams.

I have nothing against the man personally, it is just that every time the former Leinster coach and current Scotland supremo opens his mouth I am driven to distraction.

In common with many in the worlds of marketing and PR, Matt has mastered the art of being sincerely insincere and seems wholly aware of his capacity to irritate and attract criticism.

One of his classics in December 2001 was, “If you don’t like lions that bite, then don’t become a lion-tamer” - an bizarre utterance given that Leinster were known as the Lions at the time.

However, it was his beauty last year, when he claimed the Irish rugby media were biased in favour of Munster over Leinster, that was the nail in the coffin of his credibility in this country and the Australian departed for Scotland soon afterwards.

The contrast with Leinster’s current coach could not be more acute.

Declan Kidney may not be renowned for his stop-the-press sound-bytes but, in all his years in the spotlight, he has yet to embarrass himself verbally. Kidney fulfils his media duties with the minimum of fuss and then gets back to coaching rugby.

Williams’ foot-in-mouth disease has continued to plague him across the water, and the Scots’ desperate run, emphasised by the fact that their most notable victory during his reign is the 100-point thrashing of a second-string Japan, has meant his position at the helm is far from secure.

Yet, tomorrow at Murrayfield, Scotland have a realistic chance of overturning an increasingly bedraggled South Africa. Of the team that starts tomorrow, only three - scrum-half Chris Cusiter, hooker Gordon Bulloch and exciting back-row Allister Hogg look like live Lions contenders - but against Australia last weekend, there were distinct signs that the traditional ferocity and tenacity of Scottish forward play was returning.

You look to see what sparked this renaissance and your gaze falls upon the name of the Scottish forwards coach Willie Anderson.

Anderson is one in a long line of characters to play second row for Ireland. A colourful career included the flag-stealing incident which landed him in an Argentinean prison cell, the tussles with French lock Jean Condom which led to the famous ‘Our Willie Is Bigger Than Your Condom’ banner in 1985 and, my favourite - the clash with the All Blacks in 1989 at Lansdowne Road.

Anderson was captain of a fairly average Irish outfit who he instructed to link arms as they faced the fearsome sight of New Zealand’s Haka.

When Buck Shelford began the shouting and eye-bulging, big Willie, flanked by, among others, one-cap wonder Philip Rainey and debutant prop Nick Popplewell, could not contain himself and began dragging the Irish line towards the All Blacks until he was nose-to-nose with Shelford.

“You’re not going to win,” he screamed repeatedly into Shelford’s face, with spittle and the real threat of violence hanging in the air, an admirable, if unrealistic, mission statement - as the final 23-6 score-line proved.

His subsequent coaching career has been somewhat chequered, including some disgraceful treatment at London Irish, but he has many admirers among the players that have worked under him. Former Irish international Ken O’Connell was coached by Anderson at London Irish and rates him as one of the best he ever encountered. “Willie is a fantastic coach, technically and tactically he is top notch,” says O’Connell. “He had the utmost respect of all the players. He was very loyal to us and very honest. That’s probably what cost him at London Irish, he wouldn’t play the politics and they got rid of him.”

If the Scots do it tomorrow, Williams will be fixing his hair and preening in front of the post-match cameras while Anderson vanishes un-lauded into the Murrayfield shadows. That’s the way international rugby works.

But big Willie would always be guaranteed porter and snuff in my pub. And, in the interest of camaraderie, so would Matt - as long as he understands that if he starts spouting off and drowning out Rory on the stereo he will be swiftly ejected by my fantasy bouncers - Argentinean props Roberto Grau and Mauricio Reggiardo.