Tuesday, 23 October 2012

Movember 1st*


Movember 1st is fast approaching. It's time to give something back, and by something, I mean cash. Like the penis of a dead Viagra addict: Cold and hard. That's right folks, it's show-us-your-testosterone-for-a-good-cause-month. (Remember when folk used to do something to raise money? Swim the Channel? Piff. It's the 21st Century, I can raise money by not doing something. And in the case of shaving it's something I don't even like doing. Mwah ha).

But prepare to be shunned by wider society should you forgo the moral imperative that requires you to give money because a post-pubescent can grow facial hair at will! And remember, if you choose to donate to another Movember participant then prepare to be shunned by me!

Ha, ha (laughs nervously).

Of course this year I'm part of a team. Yes, my CarTrawler colleagues have joined together in restoring the Patriarchy for Charity (which I believe should have been our team name) to raise money for what is a most worthy endeavour.

Most see this as an opportunity to have a bit of fun whilst doing something worthwhile. But allow me to sober the mood somewhat:

I will unfollow you on Twitter if you do not donate to me. 

"He's bluffing," I hear you say, but can you afford to take that chance? How much is it worth to maintain your Twitter follower figure, and what psychological damage will it do if you fall below 1,469 followers? Your self-esteem will thank you!

As will I! (Probably)

And to all you guys, don't let jealousy bar you from contributing. After all, it is for you we're raising this money. Personally, I don't understand the need to raise money for guys who can't grow a 'tache but then empathy was never my strong point.


"Ahem...Emmett..."

"Yes?"

"The money doesn't go to victims of upper-lip pattern baldness..."

"It doesn't..? Ohhhh"

P.S. By laughing at any of my comedic gems you tacitly agree to donate!

*If a feeling of Deja Vu should overcome you do not be alarmed. You merely read this post last year.

Friday, 4 May 2012



I couldn't watch. And yet I couldn't take my eyes off of it. That these statements seem contradictory is an illusion. Let me explain. You see, I dislike Sky's coverage of the Heineken Cup. Not because they lack in terms of stylish graphics or presentation, not even because their analysis bores me. I dislike it because I am xenophobic. Wait, wait, don't misunderstand me! I mean it merely within the context of rugby. It's like that feeling you get when you've been away from home for too long and yearn to be with others who ... understand you. I guess you could say it's that need to feel like you're not alone. 


Don't get me wrong, I'm not the type to hug every faded acquaintance I happen to meet. So when I say, from time to time, when watching Leinster in Europe, I seek out my kind, what I mean is that I turn on the radio. 

If you don't know, Sky have exclusive rights (I dislike the practice of anthropomorphising large corporations by using words such as rights) to broadcast Heineken Cup games for television in Ireland and Britain. 


Yes, there may be a pleasure derived from an outsider's unshackled pronouncements; that this Leinster team is the greatest we have seen in the European Cup, and yes, from it there may also be an unnatural feeling of confidence, not so much a swelling of assurance in one's bosom, more an indigestive bloating. But to a dwindling few, such thoughts ... such bravado is corrosive. Am I making myself clear? It's like Betty Draper in Mad Men, when she calls Don, who by now is her ex-husband, on receipt of bad news, and like a sapling whimpers, "Tell me its going to be all right." The reply, "It's going to be all right," is sweet, and perhaps for a moment comforting, but she doesn't really believe it. 

And neither does the Irish rugby fan, who cannot live with the false hope that such assurances bring. So we grip our anxiety like reluctant children clinging to our mothers on the first day of school. We are outcasts in our own rugby supporters' fraternity. Perhaps, we are the result of a slight genetic variance? A rogue protein, where in a trillion ons, it went off and no one notices, why would they? For this misfiring is minute, it is a droplet in a deluge. And though it is seemingly insignificant, for some, such as me, it is a underestimated torture, like the unceasing annoyance of an infinite stream of single raindrops running down your back. 


The anomaly... see it as a complex computer program which executes a simple one word command. In our case: agonise.

So, at half-time I turned on the radio for a more palatable perspective. I couldn't stand to hear any of that Leinster are a great second-half side hooey. I needed to wrap myself in the comfort of doubt. As the adds rolled on Sky, the second-half restarted on the radio. There's nothing unusual for a television broadcaster to be a few seconds behind the radio, what with satellite relays and all that.  So I kept the radio on, low, in the background, focussing on the t.v.


But as Clermont battered Leinster's try line, I couldn't watch. I couldn't just watch. I had to listen too. I needed to know what was happening now. There was only a forty-odd second lag but I muted the television and turned the volume up on the radio. Michael Corcoran's mangled voice undulated in intensity, painting a vivid picture of the battle and reaching its crescendo as Leinster, exhausted, win the match.  


Even then, as I turned to the t.v., and though what I was watching was already known to me, I waited for that second final whistle. It was as if I was hearing two languages, the first I only had a rudimentary knowledge of, enough to think I knew what was said, but not until I heard the second, the translation, as it were, that I fully understood. With certainty.

Friday, 13 April 2012

Will Anthony Foley be the next Munster coach?



Sometimes, you need to step back to appreciate the magnitude of a masterpiece. Even of a painting whose reputation towers in comparison to its size. Because sometimes, we miss things that are right under our noses. We need to see the whole picture. But there are those in the IRFU who have their noses pressed up against the canvas and can't see a damned thing. Ulster coach, Brian McLaughlin was right under their noses and they missed him. Now, it's too late. But even if the IRFU were to lift its head once in a while, and cast it's Cyclopean gaze across the Irish Sea, toward Britain, it may still go unnoticed that two young and innovative Irish coaches, in Bradley and O'Shea, reside there, imparting their expertise abroad, and as such, are underutilised natural resources. 


(Paradoxically, being net exporters of rugby coaches harms our domestic rugby economy. Lets bring this metaphor to a close, shall we?)


Our coaches are leaving, or being stood aside. But there is one young Irish coach who may overcome such ignorance, Munster forwards' coach, Anthony Foley. Since Tony McGahan announced his forthcoming departure in the summer, the hat has split its seams for all the names thrown into it. On Thursday night's Off the Ball road show in Cork, Ronan O'Gara said this, when asked of the imminent coaching vacancy in the province, "There's going to be, obviously, a few important change-overs and new staff [my italics] and new players", he then went on to say that, "I don't think sweeping changes are required," suggesting that he is putting his weight behind Foley, who has the advantage of not merely being a disciple, but a prophet of the Munster way , and is already integrated into the coaching set-up. An obvious inference. He then went onto clarify a quote put to him by the show's presenter Eoin McDevitt:


"I saw you were quoted this morning as saying, you [O'Gara] "hope they trawl the world  for the best possible coach," so it doesn't necessarily have to be somebody that we know at the moment?"


The out-half went on to clarify, albeit, not accusatorially, "I was only thinking afterwards, it's easy twisting my words there, or that some people might read into that, that he [O'Gara himself] doesn't rate Foley, or something like that. But that couldn't be further from the truth, I think he's exceptional." Even though O'Gara goes on to say that Foley will have a huge role to play in Munster's success, as either the head, or the assistant coach, I read this merely as a sign of his loyalty to Munster, as an idea and a brand, that is greater than he. Incidentally, O'Gara's perceived honesty in interviews (it is not my intention to suggest any disingenuousness on O'Gara's part, merely, to point out that this is how he is perceived, in general), leads many people to underestimate him as a media performer.


So will Foley be the coach? Who knows? If there is any truth to my inferences, and if O'Gara's view is representative of the senior players, than quite possibly. 


As Mark Anscombe readies to replace McLaughlin at Ulster, all we know with certainty is that come the start of next season, there will be only one Irish coach in charge among the four provinces. It is not my intention to sound like a xenophobic rugby nationalist. Importing coaches and ideas helped unearth and nurture the "golden generation." At Leinster, Joe Schmidt has developed a talented squad, brimming with youth, and their overall technical level is the envy of Europe. The point I'm trying to make, though obtusely, is brought into focus by Alan Quinlan, writing for the Irish Times*:

"When I heard McLaughlin was being moved aside from the head coach’s job, I was disappointed for him but I thought that if it meant that they were going to bring in a proven world-class coach then maybe it was fair enough.

"But Anscombe’s experience is with the All Blacks under-20s and some ITM teams in New Zealand.

"I’m sure he’s a fine coach.

"I’m not questioning his ability at all.

"What I am questioning is why we seem to think achievements at underage level and in provincial rugby in New Zealand are on a par with getting through the pool stages of the Heineken Cup. Whatever about what it says to McLaughlin, is that not a bit of an insult to Irish rugby in general? I think it sends a message to Irish coaches telling them that they better be very good because they won’t be judged by the same standards as a coach from the Southern Hemisphere."

I'm not saying lets slap a Q-Mark on "Axel's" backside and exclaim, "Try Irish!," but he is the best candidate. Ideally he would have more coaching experience, but his Munster pedigree is such that, his claim to the throne must not go unrecognised, or risk undermining his usurper. Regarding his lack of experience, one must remember that Schmidt's first season as Leinster head-coach was his first season as a head-coach. In the medium to long-term, Munster are bridging the gaps at academy level. At senior level, at least in the short-term, Foley can best negate the shortcomings of the panel.  



*I have selected the quotes from here.

Tuesday, 20 March 2012

Six Nations: England 12 Ireland 13 England 30 Ireland 9


It's a story my Father loves to tell. It was a bright, crisp February morning. A Saturday. I was twelve years old. There was no school, nor sport to play, so my mother, deciding that I was at a loose end, suggested to Dad that I accompany him to work. After all, it was only a half-day. Dad warned me, "you'll be bored, there's not a lot for you to do." I assured him that as a child who enjoyed reading, my imagination was all I needed to stave off any such mental lethargy. To make a long story short, lets jump forward two hours, where I am to be found witlessly bored. So much so, it became arduous. I began to poke and prod my father's patience. Everything I did became accentuated, as if I were a Royal Shakespearian actor and this was Stratford-Upon-Avon. I would sigh deeply, feel faint and throw the back of my hand to my forehead. Theatrically, I would check the time on my watch by flailing the appropriate limb skyward, as if I were the teacher's pet answering a tricky question, then yank it back as though my arm were a whip. All the world is a stage, after all.

Incidentally, though I have no recollection, I'm sure it came as a surprise to me when I first learned that patience are not tangible entities. Dad would say to me, "Emmett, my patience are running out!" Well, get new ones. Or buy rechargeables? Or worse still, I would hear, "Emmett, my patients are running out!" So that's what the butterfly nets are for. It's accurate to say, on that day I didn't just try my father's patience, I defeated them. Please, I cannot accept your  congratulations, for I have done nothing more than lob a couple of pebbles up into the air. Think of a parent's patience as a frozen lake. For most, the ice is think enough to walk across, but my father's were (notoriously) wafer thin.

So, it came knocking-off time and Dad, against my protestations, wanted a pint. It was about two o'clock when into the Red Cow we walked. Dad walked, I trudged. As I grumpily sipped my 7-Up, whilst looking at my watch and thinking what a clever guy Einstein was, Dad announced that "we're staying for the rugby." H'uh? Buh? Like a lot of people, I watched Gordon Hamilton score against Australia in World Cup quarter final of '91, only for Campese & Co. to snatch victory in the end. As we took our seats, most were resigned to an Irish defeat, daring not to hope for more than a spirited moral victory. Why watch something that Ireland are going to get battered at, I griped? Literally. But, like a good boy, I sat and watched and slowly my intransigence thawed, and when Simon Geoghegan roasted Rory Underwood to score for Ireland, I leapt from my seat and cheered. Ireland won the match by a point. I marvelled at the players' commitment and bravery, their dignity and humility. This was my formative oval ball experience and from it are engrained most of the characteristics I still associate with the current Ireland team. One characteristic that has changed in my perception, is Ireland as perennial underdog. 

Though that victory of '94 was Ireland's first in England since 1982, and though Ireland had won the previous year in Dublin, after 1994, Ireland didn't beat the old enemy again until 2001. Since then, Ireland have beaten England seven times. What I am saying is, that for me, and perhaps most people my age, half of my rugby memory is filled with positive remembrances of playing England. Be it at Twickenham or Lansdowne Road. But in the wider rugby context, the St. Patrick's Day's result is not exactly out of the ordinary. So what weight does one give to history? What does it take to change history? That is, the history we have yet to make?

My passion for rugby was ignited sitting in a pub watching Ireland pummel England and win aginst the odds. My most recent experience found me sitting in a pub, this time with Ireland on the receiving end of a severe beating. Thankfully, unlike the first time I was drunk by the end of this one.

Friday, 9 March 2012

Six Nations 2012: Round 4



For those of you who are regular readers, you will know that I have something of a healthy neurosis regarding the number of Twitter followers I have. Or more pertinently, with the number of followers I do not have yet. You don't need me to recount the story here, for it is here, but suffice it to say, with LCB having 89 lackies of her own, I had begun to covet Tweeps. When the moment arrived, I did not doff my hat or hold aloft my bat to the adoring throng. My half-century was a mute celebration. At my peak, I had 56 followers, and on the afternoon in question, I stood on the psychological precipice of 50. Part of me perceived LCB's revelation, that there were a number of unscrupulous Twitter accounts now following me, as merely a ploy to exert her superiority over me, to flex her muscles, as it were. But I knew this to be cynical speculation, for why else did I not rejoice that fifty-six, mostly strangers, chose to let a little piece of everyone's favourite misanthropist into their lives?


Among my many fine followers were an unsavoury few, who were, what the catholic in me calls, of questionable moral character. In the vernacular of 140 characters, one calls them Twats. Perhaps, this is not the time for joking, so let me say quite plainly, I did not want porno-spamming Tweeps, even if I am alone and horny tonight in Dublin. So, understandably, I didn't feel like shouting about it. And that's kind of how I feel about Ireland's drawn game against France last Sunday.


If before the match, I met the man himself at the cross-roads, and he said to me, "I'll give you seventeen-all, right here and now, for your soul," I would have replied as though I was the one getting the bargain. But watching the game develop, I cannot but think, what an opportunity missed!


At half-time, I foolishly dared to dream of an Irish victory, but such hubris was to be my downfall. Such a novice I am! I didn't know how to behave. Leading the French at half-time merely served to emphasise my vulnerability. In Ireland, it is often said that, "so an'so iza mizrabble dis,' or "such an'such iza mizrabble dat" and perhaps we are less than generous toward the achievements of our countrymen and women, but Irish begrudgery is a symptom of a more serious problem. Hope. 


It is an accelerant for the snide and the yer ownley a showera bastard mongers who have blighted our national caricature (along with alcoholism, institutionalised paedophilia, and the financial collapse). But can I blame those who have abandoned the kind of optimism that causes high blood pressure? The poor fools. They are the victims! They always come back for more, while those, who have seen it before, roll their eyes at the proclamation "no, no, this time it's different, it'll be better this time." Qui audet adipiscitur. Ireland dared to win, and we dared to hope. But Ireland drew. This weekend against Scotland, for many, hope turns to expectation. 


In the build-up to the game, on paper assertions may reinforce those expectations. But we should temper them. This will be the team's third game in as many weeks, and their leader, and hero of Stade de France, Paul O'Connell is out. Conor Murray and Sean O'Brien are missing, they too, wounded in action. In Ireland's favour is the late afternoon kick-off, which means that Lansdowne Road will be packed with hordes of inebriated followers (in a truer sense), who will cheer and sing, and even be silent when required. Scotland are improving and play to a simple plan. If a few more passes stuck against England, France or Wales, they may not be coming off the back of three successive defeats. 


Despite the Irish team's depletion, if the physicality of the French performance can be replicated against Scotland, I see only one winner. Due to consecutive exertions, a full eighty-minute display seems unlikely (though more so next week), so expect Ireland to have to defend for extended periods in this game. One hopes that the home side can deliver a fatal blow to Scotland within the opening hour. 


In the words of Leonard Cohen, our "faith was strong," but we "needed proof." Sunday last, in Paris, was fish and loaves. We believe again. We have been renewed. On Saturday, I hope no miracles will be required. 

Wednesday, 29 February 2012

Six Nations - Ireland: The Motion Picture



In the second minute Ireland were penalised at the ruck for not rolling away. The Italian fly-half kicked at goal and missed. Then, in the fifth minute, Ireland went through multiple phases, culminating in a poor kick by the number ten, this time wearing green, which ceded possession to Italy who then reciprocated. But not to be out done, Ireland put boot to ball once more, only for Italy to then throw a forward pass. At the subsequent scrum Italy are penalised (free-kick) for an early engagement. 


Two minutes later, Sexton, on the loop, was tackled. He didn't off-load and was penalised for holding on. Botes kicked at goal and scored the first points of the game. Italy 3-0. In the ninth minute, Italy concede a penalty for crossing. Ireland opt for a kick at goal, but Sexton, who at this very moment is bleeding,  and looks like being replaced as a blood substitute by O'Gara, who is stripped and on the side line. Sexton, however, has other ideas and after dusting himself off, takes the successful kick at goal. Three points all. 


For myth makers such as I, this was a significant moment in the game. The bloodied young usurper, defiant, as the old master tests his will. But I fear word-smiths are an endangered species in the field (pun intended) of sports journalism. So too is reportage. It's not enough to call the game, to give a blow by blow account using the writer's tools to ignite the reader's imagination, no, one generally has to have seen the contest in question to understand what is on the page or screen in front of them. 


The axiom, "a picture tells a thousand words," has become prevalent in the writing of many sports stylists. But these writers often fail to interpret this, as a writer should, and paint the sort of picture that only a thousand words can. We are left to stare at the canvas, which we are assured is stunning, in the dark. Technical minutiae and hum drum statistics have replaced the heroic narrative. The role of the sports hack is that of folklorist, not of pseudo-psychologist. They may have read Homer, or at least, know of the stories, but their adaptations are less Shakespearian, more Eastenders; the soap, not the grandiose opera our imaginations deserve. 


Rugby, of course, lends itself particularly well to gladiatorial allegory. The powerful David-like physiques (prop-forwards, for shame), mixed with a (perceived) higher intellectual capacity than their footballing counterparts reminiscent of the Athenians, who, particularly in youth, weighted intellect and the physical aesthetic equally. Conflictory terms such as battle and war are used to describe rugby matches, but even in war, it is perhaps 100 years since combatants faced each other hand to hand. A contemporaneous application of the war analogy could lead one to believe that opposing teams line up in tanks while air support blanket bombs the front lines of the enemy. Penalty! Side-winder missile entered from the side! 


In Ireland v Italy: The Motion Picture, Sexton, is played by a loin-clothed Kirk Douglas type, valiant and resolute, and though the battle is as much with himself as with his enemies, we are left with the ending we wanted. More Spielberg than Kubrick. Our hero, is just that, a hero. 


On Sunday, in Paris, the odds are against Ireland. So too is history, we are told. But when I look back, it is at such moments, when fate seems determined to damn, that heroes become. Destiny, like a sculpture hewn of marble, does not merely occur, it must be shaped and willed into being. Now that would be a yarn worth spinning. 




** Read my original preview of France v Ireland, which, thanks to consistent selection from Declan Kidney, still has some value as a prelude. Ironically that article adheres more to the style which this piece antagonises.

Thursday, 23 February 2012

Six Nations Preview: Ireland v Italy



This is a difficult game to preview. Ireland are without a match in two weeks. Relatively speaking, the Wales game produced a poor performance. Without the context of the game against France, Ireland's health is difficult to assess. But there are certain constants which we can rely on to inform our discourse. 


Italy will not test our defence out wide. I can say that with some confidence, even though the Italian debutant out-half, Tobias Botes, is an unknown quantity. New coach, Jacques Brunel, has introduced a revised play-book to the Azzurri this season. But their new found emphasis on a more expansive game has created a sense of, what one might term, obligation, and as such, Italy are moving the ball wide too soon and negating the power of their forwards, where their, albeit diminished, strength lies.


The following statement, to many, will appear self-evident, but this game hinges on Ireland's ability to beat Italy. D'uh. Ireland's greatest weakness is their unwillingness to impose their style on other teams. We are chameleons. When we look in the mirror, we don't recognise what it is that returns our gaze. There is an imbalance in our approach, which seeks to nullify opponents rather than dictate the terms of engagement. This is a deficiency on two fronts; both philosophical and tactical.


If I may paraphrase former Leinster forward Emmet Byrne, who says that rugby, at international level, becomes more about an individual's class (or lack thereof), that is to say, the individual performance becomes more telling and impacts more on a game. This goes some way to explain the, he does it in the Heineken Cup, why can't he do it for Ireland syndrome. But it does not account for the systemic failures of Ireland's defensive performances since the Grand Slam (nor does Byrne diagnose it as the illness, merely he identifies it as a symptom). To that charge, some will no doubt retort, "but what about Ireland's victory against Australia at the World Cup?" But this is not a question of one off performances or the team's ability to play well, but more about the systems and structures employed by the coaches. 


What is particularly concerning for Irish supporters, as Matt Williams outlined on "The Breakdown," is that the flaws in the Irish defensive line were present two years ago when the All-Blacks visited Dublin. That fact, has been largely overlooked, as analysis has been conducted specifically in terms of the Welsh, who also beat Ireland in our previous match in the World Cup, where both sides' performances echoed the most recent Six Nations clash.


With the exception of the choke-tackle, Ireland have ceased to innovate and this failing must transmit to the players, who, paradoxically, derive their belief inwardly and from their team mates, but not from the Ireland team as a whole. This, of course, is speculative, though reasonably so. For we must at least ask the question: Are the coaching systems failing the players or vice versa? 


The sporadic lack of physical intensity from Ireland over the past year could be resultant, simply from the players not trying, but such a charge does not stand-up to any reasonable challenge, despite Rob Kearney, when in a pre-match interview with the BBC two weeks ago, stating that Ireland's line speed  was not up to scratch against Wales and was not, one infers, a tactic. From this, can we extrapolate that the Irish players have little faith in the direction their coaches are giving them? We don't know. This week, Kearney has pointed out that:


"the coaches are there to help us and give us gameplans but ultimately we’re the ones who run things on the field."


The question still stands. 


According to Kearney, "defence is a mindset," and for each individual in a defensive line, when you are all that stands between 16 stone and the white-wash, I believe him, but for a team of 15 it is also a structure. If the mindset was off, does that mean the structures are too?


Ireland should beat Italy. Whether the performance recalls the World Cup or the previous Six Nations, I don't know. But this is the first of four games in four weeks for Ireland. So lets hope it's the former and that by the hour mark, Kidney is in a position to empty the bench and that the Irish team reports to camp on Monday without any injury concerns. This team needs momentum, the postponement of the France game may have afforded them that possibility.

Friday, 10 February 2012

Six Nations Preview: France v Ireland



Though it goes against my better nature, I shall try to keep this short, in fact, inversely proportional to the odds, as I see them, of Ireland winning in Paris on Saturday night. That may seem needlessly pejorative, but in my opinion those odds are long and I don't see us winning. Sure, I have an imagination. I can visualise myself at the end of the game, elated, the score reads FT France 20 Ireland 21, but I can't see how.


Let us begin with team selection, where Keith Earls come in at centre to replace Fergus McFadden, the only change from Ireland's opener. His return to the fold is no surprise considering he was Kidney's initial staring midfielder. It may give Ireland more attacking flare, I am reluctant to say definitively, as we may not see much of the ball, but what I can say with certainty is that Earls' inclusion weakens our defence. It is possible that off French attacking set-plays, Bowe will switch with the Munster man, but in open play, Rougerie and Fofana will target Earls and his relatively slight 14 stone(90kg) frame. 


The only changes France have made come in the pack. Imanol Harinordoquy, one of three world class number 8s in the Six Nations returns to the starting fifteen but switches to openside flanker. His inclusion suggests France coach Saint-Andre is mindful of Ireland's strength in the line-out. Jean-Baptiste Poux, whose squished behind sat on the bench for most of France's opening match, will instead, have his derrière in the face of Pascal Pape in the French scrum and will prove a more stern test for Cian Healy than the man he is replacing, Vincent Debaty. The enforced change at scrum-half, where Morgan Parra starts, in no way weakens Les Bleus.


I am working on the assumption that Ireland will "front-up" physically because if last week's performance is replicated we could lose by 30 points. As ever, the breakdown will be key, particularly as Bernard Jackman outlined this morning with this tweet:


"Just looking at the penalty stats from last weekend courtesy of @ruckingoodstats and the penalty count against were very low. Ire 6, Wales 6, Scot 9, Eng 9, Fra 8, Ita 7 which means either every teams discipline was excellent or the refs were much more lenient. The coaches will have analysed this and you may see more contesting at the breakdown in particular which could lead to a spike in penalties this week as refs try and regain control."


Incidentally, I noticed early during Ireland's game against Wales that there were two occasions when Irish players (Ferris was one), who were first to the ruck after the tackle, and got their hands on the ball, failed to win penalties, which they would have expected to. It took us until after half-time to alter our tactics at the breakdown and on the basis of Jackman's observations Ireland must adapt more quickly to align themselves with the referee's interpretation. 


Whilst we're on the topic, a word must again be said about match referee Dave Pearson, whose poor officiating as touch-judge during Ireland's first game was to have a huge bearing on the result, as he recommended a yellow card for an offence which clearly warranted a red. For Ulster rugby fans, this served merely to compound their disgruntled feelings, for in their final European pool match in Clermont, they conceded a try as a result of foul play (off the ball) which Pearson, who was the referee, should have spotted. They lost the game by one score. To extend the criticism, the word homer springs to mind. We can hope that tomorrow, somewhere in his subconscious lurks the notion that he owes us one. 


Ireland's defensive performance last Sunday is a major concern ahead of Saturday evening's clash. But I believe the problems of poor line-speed will have been rectified in the subsequent five days the squad have spent together. Murray must attack the fringes and the wing forwards must play on his shoulder. It is imperative that Ireland force the French to commit numbers at the breakdown because there was good depth to some of our attacking play last week. Whilst François Trinh-Duc, at out-half, can be brilliant, he can also be mentally fragile, or to use the parlance, he can be "got at." So expect Stephen Ferris to seek him out early. 


OK, so we've established that it's not in my nature to be concise. I'm a believer of the Frasier Crane axiom "if less is more, imagine how much more, more is." But nor is it in my nature to be overly pessimistic. We're the underdog, so what if I don't expect Ireland to win. That's what hope is for.

Thursday, 9 February 2012

Show Us Your Passport



Yesterday, around lunchtime, I began toying with the idea that I was England football manager. It's not as egotistical as it sounds, I merely wondered what team I would pick ahead of their friendly against the Netherlands, later this month. The starting-off point was the theory that England, if the right players are picked, and a system utilised to suit those players' strengths, are a bloody good team. I wanted fresh faces and a change of mentality and attitude, so to that end, I wanted to limit those players who bring the baggage of continuous failure when wearing the three lions on their chests. I then began to think, what squad would I bring to the Euros? (OK, maybe the ego was growing). 


An injection of new blood is needed, and there are some outstanding young prospects, particularly in the defensive positions, but such criterion must be balanced with talent, where experience is not a bar. For the game against the Dutch, I settled on a starting line-up of; Harte, Johnson, Kelly, Smalling and Baines as the back four. A trio in midfield of Gerrard, Cleverly (Wilshere) and Parker, and a front-three of Rooney, Oxlade-Chamberlain and Andy Carroll. Not a bad team, right? The squad for the European Championships in the summer, in addition to the aforementioned eleven consists of the goalkeepers, Green and Stockdale (FIFA rules dictate one must name three goalies in a squad of 23). In defence, Jagielka, Rio Ferdinand and Ashley Cole. In midfield Barry and Wilshere (Cleverly). Finally, as attacking options, Ashley Young, Walcott, Bent and Welbeck. 


There are some notable exceptions, the most obvious being headline maker, John Terry, who misses out for two reasons: his form has been poor since (and during) the World Cup and his presence has a disharmonious effect on the squad. Also Joe Cole, whose form for Lille this season has been excellent, whilst "Operation Beg Paul Scholes to Return," unfortunately failed. 


This was to be a simple blog, a catalyst for further discourse, like the questions you got on English exams at school, a statement of some kind or another followed by, "discuss." There would, of course, be disagreement, "Terry should be in there," some would say, "what about Milner," from others. Maybe even some calls for Kevin Davies. Well, maybe not. 


Then at around 7.30 yesterday evening, the Twittersphere was thrown into turmoil (why are things never carefully placed into turmoil? Turmoil is like a towel; always stuffed, or rammed or thrown. But never placed). The ENGLAND FOOTBALL MANAGER has resigned (capitalisation indicates importance of the role in the British psyche). Then the bullshit started. 


The Guardian headline "Fabio Capello leaves England with few regrets on either side," disregarding the team's absence from Euro 2008 prior to Capello's appointment, and with the sub-heading, "[t]he Italian's handling of the John Terry situation shows that he never really understood the way English football works," highlights how it's the English media who fail to understand the nature of the problems faced by the national team. Successive managers have failed and yet a post-mortem is always conducted on the discarded corpse of the manager (I believe within the England manager's contract there is the stipulation that on dissolution of said agreement, the manager is expected to figuratively donate his cadaver for further study. The wording of this may vary, for example, Steve McClaren donated his organs). While, at the same time, the players, who display shortness of breath, dizziness and a shooting pain in their left arm, are invariably given a clean bill of health. 


Again another Guardian article, this time by Richard Williams began, "Fabio Capello never bothered to learn much English." Really? I understood him well enough and as an Irishman, need I say more than, Trapattoni anyone? You see, a perceived lack of English, is a media complaint and has little or nothing to do with Capello as coach.


"On Wednesday night his lack of understanding led directly to his resignation from the job of England manager, after a meeting in which he was confronted over his refusal to accept the stripping of the England captaincy from John Terry." 


But it seems to me that Capello understood better than most journalists, how his position was undermined by the Football Association's decision, which was taken without consulting the manager, whose sole responsibility the team is. From a legal point of view too, Capello understands how the F.A. decision undermines the presumption of innocence, the foundation on which the British legal system is built, in his own words, “I have spoken to the chairman and I have said that, in my opinion, one cannot be punished until it’s official and the court – a non-sporting court, a civil court – has made a decision to decide if John Terry has done what he has been accused of. I thought it was right that Terry should keep the captain’s armband."


Even before his resignation many sports hacks missed the point. Take, Dominic Field writing in, you guessed it, the Guardian, "by publicly voicing his disapproval at his employers' decision to remove John Terry from the captaincy, a move taken out of his hands, Capello has risked critically undermining England's preparations for the summer's European Championships." So disapproval with the decision, not the decision itself, risked undermining England's Euro 2012 preparations? Curious, isn't it?


Throughout Capello's tenure, there has been an xenophobic undercurrent. But it's cloaked in terms that are more palatable than John Terry's alleged, "you f*!&ing black c*&t," he doesn't understand our culture, he doesn't speak much English etc. There is an irony in Capello's decision to uphold the principles of British law whilst at the same time British citizens talk of his "lack of understanding."


Of course, by now, the unstoppable juggernaut that is 'Arry for England is moving through the gears. Statements that Redknapp is "his generation's most successful English football manager," should not be read as a glowing endorsement of his candidacy but rather how callow English football has become, from an intellectual and innovative viewpoint. There are few, if any, great English thinkers in the game, Brian Clough, perhaps being the most recent.*


 *I was tempted to use the word last here. But there's a permanence about the word which precludes the possibility that at some future date their may be an Englishman who can take his place alongside Busby and Clough.


Though I reserve the right to refute that he has been a top club manager, I firmly believe that if Redknapp were to get the job, he would excel at it and get the most from his players. The limited time the new manager will have before the European Championships is a hindrance, but less so to 'Arry. His style of go out and express yourself, without the heavy tactical burden that can be difficult to translate is the limited time international teams spend togetheris ideal for England, particularly given the time constraints before the European Championships.

Monday, 6 February 2012

Six Nations Ireland 21 - Wales 23: "Did You Get The Milk?"



We've all done it. Work hasn't been going so well of late. Money is tight and for the last couple of nights you haven't slept soundly. You arrive home, later than usual, having spent an extra hour in the office, not a total waste of time, it turns out you have discovered a talent for finger-drumming the intro to the Queens Of The Stone Age "Song For The Dead" on your desk. When you finally decide, after a second encore, to leave the working day behind, traffic is as heavy as the downpour that grafts your clothes to your skin. As you sit at the kitchen table with a towel, having shed your apparelled flesh and longing to do the same with the unseen outer layer, the veneer that the banalities of living demand, your other half asks innocuously, "did you get the milk?"


The rupture in you is so bilious in nature, that an observer may reasonably infer that you had been greatly wronged. An admission of waned love or of an infidelity, perhaps? But such conclusions would be wrong.


Get to the point, I hear you sayWell, the point is this: sometimes we misdirect our anger. After Ireland's narrow loss to Wales in yesterday's Six Nations opener, the laser-pointer of blame was not turned inward, but rather, outward, and came to rest on referee, Wayne Barnes.


The referee's decision to penalise and yellow-card Stephen Ferris in the last minute, thus handing the winning points to Wales, was harsh. And his decision to only sin-bin Bradley Davies (or that of touch-judge Nigel Pearson, who, incidentally, is the referee for next week's clash in Paris) was poor. But the referee did not lose Ireland the match. We know this. Our frustration is with the team, if not the players then the management, but we are pretending that we're mad at the referee. Wayne Barnes could have remembered the milk and Ireland  still may have lost. The concession of a soft penalty at the death does not transform Ireland's performance from a poor one. We have to ask ourselves why was Ireland's performance so?


The idea that the best three back-rowers in the country constitutes the best back-row is false. O'Brien may be the best International seven in Ireland, but he's also the best number six and the best number eight, and from either of these positions he would see a lot more ball-in-hand, where he is a more potent weapon. The Irish coaching ticket must mould a player, such as Peter O'Mahony, in the cast of a genuine openside flanker and decree that his Provence must follow suit.


(To deviate from the script slightly, why is it that Heaslip at seven is not being discussed? He is excellent on the ground and whilst terrific with the ball, is not the carrier that O'Brien is, so why not swap them? Though I grant you that this would be a risk and would only serve to paper over the cracks.)


The irony of my reaction to the back-row conundrum (I'm not alone, listen to George Hook's here), is that this is probably the only game in this Six Nations where Ireland will be tested on the ground in the manner Wales did. For only Wales possess an openside flanker in the style of, and the calibre of, Sam Warburton. So we'll get away with it  for another few matches, until we come up against Wales again, or the Wallabies, or the All-Blacks and sure we're supposed to lose against the last two. What good are ball carriers if you can't get the ball?


At scrum-half Colm Murray was inconsistent, by no means poor, but Redden should be paired with Johnny Sexton. Murray and Sexton as half-backs highlight an inconsistency in how the coach wants his back-line to play and likewise the coupling of Redden and O'Gara. 

In midfield, Gordon D'arcy's form is poor, and over the last year, inconsistent. Yesterday, Ireland played two 12s and conceded a lot, in terms of physicality, to their Welsh counterparts. But this defeat offers us an opportunity to work on an exciting hunch; that Tommy Bowe can excel at centre. Against Rougerie and Fofana, I fear Bowe is Ireland's only hope. It's got to be worth a try (pun intended), right? 

But I know, I don't need to be told that this is the stuff of fantasy. Ireland will not make changes of the magnitude called for here. That is Declan Kidney's prerogative. But if Ireland fail to perform in France, then probing questions should be asked about the progress of the team since the Grand Slam and the introduction of the E.L.Vs. Even if they do perform well, one off performances have not been the issue, more, it's the doubts over consistency that nag. Whatever the outcome, people will continue to scratch their heads and wonder, why can't the players take their provincial form onto the international stage? Is Kidney's coaching pedigree compatible with how Leinster coach their backs, both in the senior team and at academy level (which raises questions over the future development of the team)?


Finally, and perhaps most importantly, compensating for O'Driscoll's absence, particularly in defence, proved to be an insurmountable challenge. Not merely in his duties as a centre but in his role as a pseudo-back-rower. We saw McFadden, by BOD's omnipotent fiat, shooting out of the line on two occasions (that I can recall), but that was the only glimpse we saw any BOD-like apparitions and in general our defensive line-speed was poor.

Ultimately, six days is not long enough to go away and dream it all up again, but the players must take charge on the field and recognise where a game plan is, or is not, working. At the start of the second half, Ireland attacked around the fringes of the ruck, where Wales were light on numbers, and for a time, began punching holes that drew the Welsh defence in, thus creating space out wide. I will be surprised if Ireland go out on Saturday and mirror their timid performance at the breakdown. We must not so easily kick possession away and give the French back-three a counter-attacking platform. This, coupled with high intensity play would be a good starting place at the Stade de France.

Thursday, 2 February 2012

Ireland: A Six Nations Preview



A bunch of us we're playing pool one night, having a few beers and shooting the breeze. In our group was a guy from Limerick who was in Dublin studying. He was Munster through and through, if you pricked him, he bled red. This was a month or two before Munster would lift their first Heineken Cup and invariably the conversation turned to the oval ball.


The Six Nations of that year had seen Ireland pipped to the championship on points difference by France (a disastrous first-half in Paris springs to mind) and had seen Shane Horgan score a dramatic late try to seal the Triple Crown at Twickenham, in the last  minute of the last match that year. But my new friend from Moyross was indifferent to the national team's successes and longed for provincial glory in Europe. The only concession he made towards Leinster was that Brian O'Driscoll was "brave." My blood boiled (blue, I presume). But he was no fool, he knew his stuff, but was gripped by what I can only describe as an obsession.


Over the past ten years, I have found myself becoming less of an Ireland fan and more of a Leinster one. Don't misunderstand me, my allegiance to Ireland is as it always was, ever since I watched the '91 World Cup, or in the Five Nations of 1993 and 1994, where the fires of patriotism were stirred inside me as Ireland beat Engerland at Lansdowne Road, and by a point at Twickenham, respectively.


But I ask myself, would I trade the possibility that Leinster become the second team to retain the Heineken Cup for Ireland winning another Grand Slam? Then I think of my Munster friend and wonder what he might choose if it were his Provence?. But I don't have to wonder long, and I dare say, he would wonder at all in coming to his decision. My point is that it has become difficult to sate an opinion regarding the Irish national team that aligns with one's provincial allegiance, without it being cited as the determining factor in arriving at that opinion.


Even Declan Kidney himself has his favourites and some selections cause the average Irish supporter to scratch their heads. If one were to collate all the discussion regarding Kidney's selection for Ireland's first game of the Six Nations versus Wales and aggregate it into one word, that word might be conservative. On the whole though, I disagree with such an appraisal on the basis of: who else can he pick? Calls for Simon Zebo's inclusion are ridiculous. One only has to reference Andrew Trimble's ascension to the starting line-up to see that Zebo has a long way to go. The Ulsterman has been one of the in-form backs in Ireland this season and was the only performer of note in Ireland's World Cup warm-up games. No one can say, based on his form, this season and last, that Trimble does not deserve his starting berth. The doubts that I have about him (and it could be argued that based on the selection policy of the last two coaches, I'm not the only one) at international level will be dispelled if he can carry his provincial form with him. Though, having said that, if O'Driscoll was fit, I would have no doubt that Earls would have started on the wing with Andrew Trimble dropping to the bench or out of the squad altogether.


I see O'Callaghan's inclusion, or Donncha 1.0, ahead of Ryan, predictably Donnacha 2.0 (the upgrade comes with an extra A), as such a regressive step as to continue to use Vista when Windows 7 is on the shelf. Ryan has proven this year to be a dynamic ball carrier who is good in the set-piece (though gives up some push to 1.0 at scrum time) and at the grunt work. Most importantly though, since usurping his predecessor in the Munster side, 2.0 is also a proven foil for O'Connell. And though 1.0 had an excellent game against Northampton in the last pool game of the European Cup, as Aristotle might say "one swallow does not a spring make." O'Callaghan's ill-discipline at the break-down, in my opinion offsets his expertise at the choke tackle, and is a genuine concern.


What of Earls at centre? There's only one thing to say about the selection; he is a poor passer. So what is their to argue about? He has tremendous gas (the result of a high-fibre diet, I guess) and can step off both sides, but if he can't pass, he can't play at centre. In fact, on form, Earls should drop to the bench. Those of you who would cite his performance against the Saints, I refer you to Aristotle. If Jamie Roberts is passed fit to line up for Wales he will test Earls' defensive capabilities to the utmost. Whilst Tommy Bowe was an obvious candidate for the number thirteen shirt, it's Fergus McFadden who can feel most hard done by, as it were.


He has risen to every challenge since he broke into the Leinster team, is good on D and passes well off either side and has a good break. Then there's Luke Fitzgerald, who was named in the Wolfhounds squad, though injury ruled him out, and is an incredibly exciting prospect for the Irish midfield. Those who have written him off are nothing if not premature. His form for Leinster before this injury was superb and not merely his attacking play, but his aggression, and furthermore technique at the breakdown has surpassed even the strength of his running game. His defence is solid and his angles of attack, particularly his trailers are excellent. Last season's Six Nations form and his World Cup omission look to be behind him and one can only hope that a return to the squad is not as hard to achieve as exclusion seems to be.


Peter O'Mahony's inclusion on the bench is heartening. Here we have a 22-year-old flanker who has all the raw material to be an excellent, traditional open-side, something Ireland lack in the back-row. Paddy Wallace's (I know, I know, give the guy a break) inclusion in the squad if not the match-day 22 is an opportunity missed to offer a taste of the national team to someone like Eoin O'Malley. Actually not "someone like Eoin O'Malley," but Eoin O'Malley.


It will be particularly interesting to see how Les Kiss assimilates the attack coach's role into his defensive responsibilities. Ireland must nullify the role of Warburton at the breakdown, and our lack of a ground hog in the back-row is a weakness, especially against an operator of the Welsh captain's class. The most pressing concern for Kiss though, is how do Ireland score off multi-phase play? Under both O'Sullivan and Kidney, the men in green have been masters of scoring off first-phase play, but Wales will not kick the ball to touch against Ireland, thus nullifying our ability at the line-out. Will Kearney's form for Leinster and the improvement in his counter-attacking game be utilised on Sunday? A case of Wales being damned if they do and damned if they don't with the boot could offer us a territorial foothold in the game.


In Wales' World Cup quarter-final victory, they deployed the "chop-tackle" to limit Ireland's ability to off-load, so look for Ireland to attack around the fringes and and draw the Welsh defence in. It's vital that we use decoy runners to keep our Celtic cousins guessing as, Liam Toland outlined in his Irish Times column, referring to O'Gara skipping O'Connell in midfield when the lock had up to that point been a major ball carrier in the game.


On the balance of probability home advantage should tell for Ireland, but without knowing the Wales team and what their injury toll actually is, it's impossible to call. But what we can say for sure is that it is a game Ireland must win.