Ireland’s man for all seasons

Brian O’Driscoll has brought high emotion to Lansdowne Road over the past 14 years and we can expect more of the same today

There have been other stages, of course. Brian O’Driscoll probably seared his way into your consciousness with that hat-trick of tries against France in the Stade de France, for instance, just the 14 years ago.

Or maybe it was the slashing break for the Lions when facing the Wallabies back in 2001 at the Gabba in Brisbane. Later on, he sickened those same Australians in Croke Park with that last-gasp try under the posts in 2011.

But it began in Lansdowne Road, which was what the old house was still called when O’Driscoll opened his international account.

If it ended there today, in the gleaming glass of the Aviva, it would draw all the strands of the narrative together neatly.

It doesn’t. So what? O’Driscoll has illuminated that patch of grass near the DART tracks in south Dublin more often than the ESB.

It’s surprising more people don’t claim to have been in the ground as the youngster hurtled over in the 1999 World Cup against Australia: you’d expect a roll call slightly larger than the attendance in Thomond Park in 1978 insisting they saw the flash of greatness even then.

Rolling through the array of tries scored in Dublin, there doesn’t appear to be a common theme, apart from a tendency to accelerate with lethal intent as the line appears. There’s a variety to the jerseys, running from the light green with white underarm patches of the early years to some unforgiving darker shades later on. The hairstyles range from schoolboy conservative to unfeasible brightness mid-career and now to a fit-for-purpose crop.

Even the physical appearance changes as the years of professional conditioning thicken the shoulders, but that discernible intent is what unites the touchdowns.

That apart, there’s plenty of variety. Does your taste run to free-running interceptions?

Enjoy that long-distance score against Scotland in 2002, flying home from deep in his own half, an unconscious trailer for the coup de grace O’Driscoll delivered to Munster in Croke Park seven years later.

Close-range sniping your thing? Consider the long-haired shimmying before the try against Italy a decade ago. O’Driscoll probes until he sees the gap, and then he’s gone.

It’s not a matter of being a flat-track bully against the lesser lights, either. How about that try against New Zealand in 2010?

As Ireland attack the All Black line, O’Driscoll is tracking the play like the extra loose-forward he became in the latter stages of his career; when the ball’s loose, the sheer class of the scooped pick-up is enough to give anyone pause.

On that theme, the previous year, when Ireland collected that Grand Slam, O’Driscoll was the one who ground out tries in the home games, against France and England; they were in Croke Park, admittedly, but you can’t discuss his career without reference to those. As Johnny Giles might say, not just a great goalscorer, but also a scorer of great goals.

Forced to choose a Lansdowne Road try for the highlight reel, though, this writer would plump for the score against France in 2001.

Long-time international teammate Ronan O’Gara instanced that try in his autobiography not as a game-breaking score, though it was, but as an illustration of the level O’Driscoll was at in comparison to his teammates: as O’Gara says, he was the only Irish player at that time with the speed and power needed to get the ball down for the score.

Today you may expect the fairytale ending. If it were anyone else, we’d warn against that.

When the baseball icon Ted Williams was on the cusp of retirement, the New Yorker sent novelist John Updike to Boston to cover his last game.

The resulting piece is one of the greatest sports features ever written thanks in no small way to Updike’s genius, but also to the serendipity of Williams hitting a home run in his last at-bat in professional baseball, an unlikely finish Disney would be proud of.

After Williams signed off with his score, Updike records a nearby spectator saying to his friend: “Let’s go. I don’t want to spoil it.”

O’Driscoll doesn’t need a touchdown today to underline his career.

Not after what he’s done.

If he gets across the try-line in Dublin 4, though, expect an exodus.

And don’t be surprised if grown men suddenly find a speck of dust in their eyes on the way to the exits.