NZ Rugby World column, April 2004

Whilst New Zealand is revelling in the excitement of the Super 12, I’ve been in the Northern Hemisphere following what I believe is one of the best sporting competitions of all, the Six Nations. 

I grew up with Five Nations Rugby and I absolutely love the familiarity, the traditions, the excitement of meeting old friends, in the old pubs, at the old grounds. Nothing beats the aftermatch at Jurys or the Berkeley Court just 50 yards down the road from Lansdowne Road. Except maybe the aftermatch at the Angel in Cardiff which is just as close to the new Millennium Stadium.

Whilst they seem to be playing a different game to Super 12 (real scrums, completely different view of what happens at the breakdown, and rolling mauls), the passion, tension and deep local participation still make the Six Nations games a fantastic spectator sport. And no matter which country you are in you are surrounded by old friends and rugby legends.

In February I went to Dublin for Ireland v Wales. Ireland dismantled the Welsh with brilliant disciplined forward commitment, smart flyhalf play from Ronan O’Gara and a pair of centres that were as good as anything in world rugby today. 
      

How good is this new guy Gordon D’Arcy? The game plan was built around the rolling maul, intense competition at lineout time and real pace from O’Driscoll and D’Arcy in midfield. A far cry from the Irish tactics of the 90s which were: Plan A – kick it high and chase; Plan B – kick it higher.

At the aftermatch Sid Millar and Ciaran Fitzgerald, both Lions skippers, were ebullient. 

Old friend, David Moffett, Welsh Manager and ex-Lion David Llewellyn were less happy fearing yet another false dawn in Welsh rugby. 

JPR Williams told them and me that it was important to lift spirits in the Welsh team and that they should go into the dressing room praising positive stuff and not focus on the fact they were slaughtered up front. 
       

I told JPR this wasn’t the way it would have been done in New Zealand. I can’t imagine either Laurie Mains or Graham Henry delivering that kind of speech after the pathetic performance Wales had just put in. Still he knows his countrymen; two weeks later they bounced back with a good performance against France.

From Dublin we drove down to Limerick, which all New Zealanders will know is the home of Thomond Park. Every single person I ever met in Limerick was there on that fateful day when Munster beat the All Blacks! I was working at the University of Limerick and had dinner that evening in the tiny village of Killaloe at the house of Roger Downer, the President of the University and a rugby fanatic, particularly where Ireland and Munster are concerned. 
 

The dinner was devoted to rugby and we were joined by two Killaloe rugby legends, Keith Wood and the current Irish No 8, Anthony Foley (who led the team out for his 50^th cap when they played England on March 6), Irish coach Eddie O’Sullivan, Munster coach Alan Gaffney and Munster’s latest legend, our own Christian Cullen.

Christian and partner Mandy have settled well in Cork and Christian was itching to get back on the field for his first game that weekend. The whole of Munster expects and he told me he had rarely felt so nervous. Munster are in the quarters of the Heineken Cup with Stade Français and Gloucester awaiting, so the stakes are high. 

The Cullens have settled down very well into Irish life and are looking at buying a house in Cork. With over two years of his contract to go, I hope that he can become fit again and demonstrate the pace, vision and gifts he brought to the All Blacks.

Keith Wood is of course an icon in Irish rugby and is just settling now into retirement. A smart, competitive young man who will make a successful leap from the world of rugby to the world of commerce.
       

He never succumbed to this 100 percent professional time commitment so prevalent amongst young rugby players today. He would do rugby and weight training in the morning and then spend every afternoon working. He was able to build a career in marketing while he was playing leaving the transition much easier. 

I worry that many of our players in New Zealand train in the morning, train in the afternoon, and when they are finished have had no preparation whatsoever for life after rugby. I also worry that they become aimless drifters during the playing time. 

Feeding the body is important to a rugby player but as everyone knows it is the top two inches that count, and feeding the brain is just as important.
       

I was very impressed with the two coaches. Alan worked with the Waratahs in Super 12 and is a very committed, passionate, experienced Aussie who knows how to win rugby games. 

Eddie O’Sullivan is the quiet achiever of Six Nations rugby and I know he is highly respected by the other coaches. He doesn’t grab the headlines and doesn’t seek media attention but he is a very astute planner. 

Woodward has received all the glory but frankly I think O’Sullivan could also be a potent Lions coach. 
        

He proved this on March 6^th when Ireland took the world champions England apart at Twickenham no less. During the dinner Eddie talked to us about the potential for Ireland to disrupt English ball at lineout time and the discipline of the Irish pack on the ground and at rolling maul time. 

I watched the game in an Irish pub, the Playwright, in South Beach, Miami, surrounded by parties of Irish who hadn’t seen their team win at HQ since 1994. 
   

On a day when their best player O’Driscoll had a shocker they still beat England comprehensively. 

They murdered the Poms in the lineouts, kept their shape throughout the game and turned the English defense, time after time, with brilliant kicking from O’Gara. I was delighted to see Ireland, the underdogs, and everyone’s second favourite team, beat the over-resourced, over-financed, over-confident England.

I bet they had one helluva party in Killaloe that night.  
I was even more thrilled to see John Kirwan and the Italians beat Scotland. 

The progress Italy has made under ‘JK’ is incredible and the Six Nations really need Italy to be competitive. They are a nation of passionate athletes and supporters and John had targeted this game as a must win. After two committed, competent performances against the giants, England and France, this was Italy’s big game. And they delivered. 

With meagre resources John has turned this team from no hopers to the competitive team that the giants pay respect to and the Celts could well lose to.

I was with the Italians in Paris when they learned a lot in their 25-0 defeat to France. On the night before the game, Ian Borthwick, one of New Zealand’s finest exports who now writes rugby for L’Equipe, managed to get us into the private room of one of the best restaurants in Paris, Guy Savoy. 
    

Close to the Arc de Triomphe, Guy Savoy is the home of some of the finest cooking in France. The distinguished Monsieur Savoy is a rugby nut and Ian managed to obtain not only a private room – but a private restaurant! It is situated just across the road from the main restaurant and has two tables for around 20 people and is completely private and isolated. 

We had a late dinner, 9.30pm-1am, with the Italian coaching staff. Glen Ella talked us through the Australian plans prior to the infamous semi-final against the All Blacks and talked about the confidence in the Australian camp that indeed we did have no ‘plan B’ and that if they did not kick the ball to us then they would dominate up front, which as we all know turned out to be rather an accurate prediction.

‘JK’ was in inspirational form that evening convincing his coaching staff that Italy were on the right path and that they could be competitive against France the next day. 

They were and produced the platform for the victory versus Scotland. The food and wine were of course fantastic and Guy Savoy couldn’t keep away. He was particularly pleased with the Italian jersey ‘JK’ presented him with.

The next day we went to the Stade de France, which must be amongst the world’s top three sporting stadiums. Sean Fitzpatrick joined us for lunch and was warmly received by French spectators, as indeed he was the next day when we had a couple of Guinnesses together after the game in Jurys. 
      

We even had one young, Welsh female supporter come up for a photo telling Fitzy that he was her screensaver! We caught up with the great French fullback Jean-Michel Aguirre and unfortunately had to cancel dinner at Jean Pierre Rives’ restaurant because of the Guy Savoy opportunity. 

Rives was a charismatic hero of mine growing up. His blond hair and blood splattered face were a familiar sight on all Five Nations Grounds.

The only jarring element is that one of the three games each weekend is now played on a Sunday. This is designed totally for television and it really does get in the way of the Six Nations experience. 

It’s very tough having to give up Sundays with kids and family and then cut short Sunday night because of work on Monday morning. Sunday rugby has never quite done it for me.
        

But all in all, the Six Nations is thriving, playing standards are improving, forward play is important, crowd participation is total, and the true rugby spirit lives gloriously. It’s a non-stop merry-go-round of old friends and old stories. Like this one an ex player told me:

An Englishman is driving along a rural road in Ireland somewhat despondent after being beaten by the Irish the day before. He comes across a farm where he sees a sign “Talking Dog”. He pulls into the farm and is greeted by an Irish farmer, a Willy John McBride look-alike. 

He asks the farmer if indeed he has a talking dog. The farmer looks puzzled at the Englishman and asks him if he can read. The Englishman replies in the affirmative. The Irishman said yes indeed he has the talking dog identified on the sign. The Englishman asks if he can see this incredible dog. The Irishman says yes, takes him into the living room and there stretched out in front of the fire is an old hound with a half bitten off ear, some bruising around the eye, generally exhibiting years of experience and scar tissue. 

The Englishman says, “This is the dog? And he can talk?” The dog lifts his head from the ground and says, “Of course I can talk.” The Englishman is amazed. “Where did you get that dog from?’, he asks the Irishman. 

The Irishman says, “He used to work for the CIA but now he’s retired.” The dog looks up and says, “Yep and I know who really murdered President Kennedy.” The Englishman said this is amazing. “He’s not for sale is he, by any chance?” 

The Irishman said, “Yes, he is.” “How much,” said the Englishman. “Twenty dollars,” was the reply. “Twenty dollars for a dog like that?! That’s amazing. Why are you selling him so cheaply?” “Because half of what he says is total bullshit.”

  
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