I Was There May 24, 2009
Posted by bazmcstay in Personal Favourites, Rugby.Tags: 6 Nations, Brian O'Driscoll, British and Irish Lions, Churchill Cup, European, Felipe Contempomi, Fernando Torres, Grand Slam, Harlequins, Heineken Cup, Ireland, Jonathan Sexton, Leicester, Leinster, Liverpool, Michael Cheika, Molly Malone, Munster, Murrayfield, RDS, Rocky Elsom, Rugby, Shane Horgan, Stan Wright, Steven Gerrard, Triple Crown
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Murrayfield, Edinburgh, 23rd May 2009. I was there. Along with a massive army of blue-clad fans, I was privileged to witness Leinster finally fulfill their potential and cap this glorious season for Irish rugby. Having been frustrated by the inconsistencies and heartbreaks of the last 10 years, it was an unbelievable rush and release to be there when it all came together.
But let’s start at the very beginning. I actually had an exam yesterday morning (my third of four final, Postcolonialism and Irish Studies, if you’re interested), 9:30-12:30. My flight to Edinburgh left Dublin Airport at 12:45. You do the math. The added difficulty was that, technically, you’re not supposed to leave the exam after 12, which meant a serious dash to get my three essays written in time. Thankfully, the chief invigilator (which sounds like it should be a villain in a Dan Brown book) was an understanding Ulster fan who waived the rules and let me sneak out at 12.05.
My taxi driver earned his tip, as I was at the airport by 12.25. My dad had been in touch with the DAA and, get this, I came through the VIP suite to speed up my chances of boarding the flight. I felt pretty damn cool being whished through a private check-in area, driven across the tarmac in a Merc and escorted to the top of the queue. It was all pretty posh but, ultimately, unnecessary. I was in my seat before my dad. Never mind.
So, to Scotland. We arrived at the stadium an hour before kickoff. Murrayfield is an impressive structure despite being topped with a curious mish-mash of iron twigs. There’s something exhilarating about entering a mostly-empty stadium which makes you take a deep breath as you do a full, 360 degree scan of the place. Like scanning a battlefield before the cry of charge rings out. Watching the place fill, it became obvious that the Leinster fanbase is growing. Walking through the streets to the stadium, the Leinster supporters clearly outnumbered the Leicester group by two or three to one. We were a rare breed ten years, even five years ago; now I’m not such an exclusive creature – we’re doing our best to catch Munster! In terms of fans and trophies.
Yes, trophies. That big, shiny, beautiful hunk of metal at the end of this European rainbow was well worth waiting for. I even got to touch the thing as Shane Horgan carried it through the mass of fans in the airport. The whole team passed through the departure lounge which was packed with singing and chanting happy Bluemen, signed autographs, did photos, beaming from ear to ear. A tremendous bond has started to develop between this team and their people. The travelling support has been superb and the RDS has become a fantastic venue full of fantastic fans. Munster have been able to beat Leinster with two sticks of underachievement and underwhelming support for many years, but the times, they are a-changing.
I have a seriously raw throat today after screaming and shouting all through the game yesterday. I’m not going to dissect the intricacies of the match, save to point out some obvious points. Leinster were by far the better team, with more chances and points before Stan Wright’s sinbinning. They conceded ten points while down to fourteen men, but did not allow Leicester a score for the final 37 minutes of the game. Leinster also played a very smart kicking game, chose their moments well and displayed great control and composure in the final 10 minutes to close out the win after Jonathan Sexton’s winning kick. Sexton deserves huge credit for controlling the game and contributing some stunning scores in the manner of a seasoned pro. It is sad to see Dr. Phil leave, but his young apprentice looks ready to fill his big boots.
It would be equally sad to see Rocky go. What a man. In the manner of Liverpool’s Gerrard-Torres axis, Elsom and O’Driscoll have invigorated this Leinster side beyond any previous level, especially since Christmas. They have been simply inspirational. Michael Cheika seems confident he can keep Rocky north of the equator. If he does leave, he will have left the proverbial indelible mark on Leinster rugby. As for O’Driscoll, it is as if he has decided that the stars are alligned and that he will fill in those blanks on his CV this season: Triple Crown, 6 Nations, Grand Slam, Heineken Cup. Top try scorer in the Championship and its player of the season. A winning Lions tour would be the icing on the cake. A Churchill Cup win would be a nice bonus too – Ireland has pretty much every other rugby trophy there is going right now!
Anyway, it didn’t matter that the flight home was delayed by an hour. It didn’t matter that I was shattered tired today. Hearing the stewardess congratulate us on “our win”, being congratulated by the passenger beside me on being a European Champion, the headlines in the Sunday papers, touching that trophy, getting Michael Cheika’s autograph, the signature of the man who has rebuilt Leinster in the last four years, roaring my guts out as the final whistle went…those will live with me forever.
This little piece will not read as a work of literary greatness, or as incisive sports journalism, or as a brilliantly constructed personal account. It’s a bit of a mish-mash, like the Murrayfield metalwork. But it’s hard to express yourself when you are on such a high, when your head is still spinning and when you can still hear the chants of “Lein-ster” and the strains of “Molly Malone”. It’s hard to believe, but Leinster beat Harlequins, Munster and Leicester to get here. They possess possibly the two greatest individuals in the competition. They deserve this win. We deserve it, the fans who’ve put up with the taunting and the topsy-turvy past. And Ireland deserves it too. With so many bad-news stories, sport is what we turn to for our joys. Yesterday was a joy and it was great to spend it witnessing a great team secure a great victory with my dad, who once had a trial for Leinster back in his college days. Yes indeed, yesterday was one of the best days of my life.
Where am I…? May 21, 2009
Posted by bazmcstay in College, Rugby.Tags: College, Edinburgh, Exam, Heineken Cup Final, Leinster
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Just to inform any visitors to my wee blog, I’m out of the loop for the moment as I’m in the middle of my final exams in college. First two are done with and have gone ok. My next is on Saturday – finishing at 12:30pm, with me booked on a flight at 12:45 to Edinburgh in the vain hope of beating traffic and a big enough delay to get me to see Leinster in the Heineken Cup Final. Wish me luck in the exam, but more importantly, that I might be there to see the match! I’ll be back and blogging soon. In the meantime, thanks for visiting and enjoy your stay!
Leinster Reach New Heights May 3, 2009
Posted by bazmcstay in Ireland, Rugby.Tags: Alan Gaffney, BOD, Brian O'Driscoll, Brian Roche, British and Irish Lions, Captain, Chris Whittaker, Cork, Croke Park, Doug Howlett, Dublin, Edinburgh, Felipe Contempomi, France, Girvan Dempsey, Gordon Darcy, Grand Slam, Green Party, Harlequins, Heineken Cup, IRB, Ireland, IRFU, Isa Nacewa, Jonathan Sexton, Jones Road, Keith Earls, Kerry, Kilkenny, Lansdowne Road, Leinster, Lifemi Mafi, Luke Fitzgerald, Magners League, Malcolm O'Kelly, Michael Cheika, Munster, Paul O'Connell, Player Of The Year, Rocky Elsom, Ronan O'Gara, Rugby, Semi Final, Shane Horgan, Shane Jennings, Six Nations, Stan Wright, Stoop, The Golden Generation, Tony McGahan, Twickenhem, Wales
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Oh now, today was some day.
It’s not easy to put into words the sense of occasion which was thick in the air at Croke Park on May 2nd 2009. Right from the moment I left my house and boarded a heaving Luas at 2:30pm in the afternoon to the final whistle and subsequent gracious wishes of good luck from many a deflated Munster fan, it was always going to be a special day. An Irish team was guaranteed to reach the Heineken Cup Final; a world record for attendance at a rugby union club match was about to be set; the sun was beaming down; the banter was brisk along Jones’ Road; the talk of revenge for 2006 and two drubbings this season was the spur for Leinster; the defence of their hard-won crown egged Munster on. Before this game began, there was so much to hint at a glorious encounter.
If the early 90s saw Jackie’s army conquer the world in terms of support if not actual silverware, the Golden Generation have certainly made the naughties their own, pocketing trophy after trophy and finally delivering on the years of unfulfilled promise with a Grand Slam this year. We have already been spoilt this year with that historic victory over Wales, but then Munster kept the Magner’s League “in the family” last weekend so the crowd which descended on Croker today were hungry for another display of Irish rugby’s rude health. And boy, did they get it.
The first manifestation came off the pitch. The IRFU outdid themselves with the arrangement of the ticket allocations, the banks of fans arranged in a patchwork around the stands - red, blue, red, blue. It was as dramatic a sight as one could imagine. The stadium was awash with the two colours and with little to no interloping – it seems that Leinster fans have learnt their lesson and tickets will never be allowed to slither south again as happened so dramatically in 2006.
Entering Lansdowne Road’s North Terrace that day, I was blown away by the red invasion, an obvious portent of things to come. Since then, however, Leinster’s season ticket ranks have trebled and the support at matches has become more vocal, more passionate, more (dare I say) Munster-like. I had the pleasure to be part of the small band – about 2,500 – who travelled to Twickenhem Stoop for the gritty win over Harlequins 3 weeks ago and the Leinster travelling support was nothing short of magnificent, singing non-stop, standing for the entire game, drowning out the home support 4 times greater in number. It was as passionate as the team’s defence that day and it was clear that that defence would be necessary again today if Leinster were to overcome the odds against the heavy favourites. However, their 16th man was not going to be found wanting.
10 minutes before kick-off, there were no streams of people coming in through the entrance-ways: The stadium was already full. The roars, the flags waving, the march of the drummers and brass players towards each other – every little detail built up the pre-match atmosphere to an incredible high. We Irish love our sport and we love our all-Irish, inter-parish rivalry more than most. This was it – Dublin v Kerry, Cork v Kilkenny, the arch-nemeses facing up to each other with scores to settle.
But enough preamble. What happened?
Leinster 25 - 6 Munster
Wow.
Now, I did not see that coming. No one did. Not even Michael Cheika’s most orgiastic of wet-dreams could have sprung this fantasy. Not even the most die-hard of Leinster fans – and those who thought that they could even win were few and far between, many dreading another Munster steamrolling – could have envisaged a display like today’s.
This was one of those matches which simply pulsated from start to finish, dragged every watching soul around in the mud behind it, shoved their heads underwater for unfeasibly long periods of times and flung them, gasping for air, miles skyward with no inkling of when they might land. There was the underlying edge, the extra intensity local rivals feel when pitted together. There was the O’Connell over O’Driscoll Lions captaincy call. There was the memories of the clash at Lansdowne Road. The context was matched by an awesome game, full of hard running, hard tackling, hard yards and hard luck.
The scoreline is misleading. Munster battered at Leinster’s defensive line all day, dominating the lineout, retaining possession like a sponge retains water, recycling and recycling like a crazed Green Party member. The offloading, the pick-and-go, the abrasive backline – Munster at their aggressive best were certainly there. The thing is, the unstoppable force met an immovable object in the Leinster team. The defence against Harelquins in that second half, as wave after wave of attack was weathered, was surpassed in this performance. The entire team made itself felt. There were superb try-saving scrags by Luke Fitzgerald and the man-of-the-match (although officially it was O’Driscoll, I don’t know that anyone would argue against this) Rocky Elsom. Gordon Darcy was out to prove a point to the Lions selectors and certainly delivered his best game in 2 years. Chris Whittaker and Felipe Contempomi, before his sad exit, controlled the game and were unforgiving in defence. Jennings, Heaslip, O’Kelly, even Stan The Man delivered his finest display in the blue.
Brian O’Driscoll was, of course, at his peak. The man is, without doubt, a rugby legend. Two years ago he was being written off – no pace, missing tackles, poor kicking, blah blah blah. Over the hill, they said.
Well, what do they know? Sweet F. All it would appear. Paul O’Connell might be the Lions Captain, and maybe deservedly, but come the IRB Player Of The Year Award, I would be handing the trophy to O’Driscoll right now. He has been simply superhuman this year. He is as wily as he ever was – think of his line-breaking try against France, his chip, chase, gather and near-try against Harlequins, his brilliant pass to Nacewa to set up Darcy’s first try. He is the hardest tackling, hardest rucking back in world rugby bar none, worth two number sevens. He has lost some of the extra muscle which he never needed in the first place and burst away from the entire Munster team to score Leinster’s third try today. He is a Grand Slam winning captain, an exceptional captain and, should he cap his list of honours with a Heineken Cup and a Lions Tour win, he will be safely enrolled as Ireland’s greatest ever player. He is already Leinster’s. God Bless BOD.
Leinster scored two excellently-worked tries apart from Briano’s breakaway, the backline rediscovering its seemingly misplaced spark, and credit to Alan Gaffney. Munster’s backline is, without question, far better than it was in 2006, and Keith Earls and Doug Howlett always threatened, but Lifemi Mafi did Leinster a bit of a favour with his incorrigible tendency to step back inside today. Facing a midfield of Gordon Darcy and Brian O’Driscoll, Mafi thought his best bet was to continually charge at them. Grist to the mill, Lifemi.
The battle of the outhalves didn’t materialise as people had expected with Dr. Phil leaving the field after he contributed one peach of a drog-goal. Instead, it was left to his replacement, Jonathan Sexton, a player who has occasionally flattered to deceive, to give the performance of a lifetime. Jonno was excellent, directing the game like O’Gara himself, kicking well, passing swiftly, making good, clear calls. We may at last have a successor to the Irish number 10 shirt. O’Gara was quite muted all day, bearing the brunt of several attacks down his channel and hustled all day by Shane Jennings.
Back in November, when Munster humbled Leinster at the RDS 18-0, I told Brian Roche, a Munster friend of mine, that I fel that the result would have been the exact opposite had Leinster had O’Gara. I simply didn’t feel the gap was that wide. A few weeks ago, Munster pasted Leinster, again without Leinster playing all that badly. There was still something missing. Today, finally, Les Bleux found it. I’m not going to say it was passion because, contrary to what many observers might say, I think this is a Leinster team which has had a drive about it for some time but not always the execution. Certainly, the defeat in Lansdowne in 2006 has been a catalyst for the new, improved Leinster.
No, what Leinster found today was something like the Cowardly Lion’s courage. They had it all along, they just needed to see that. The Munster Men have been at the top of the game in Ireland for so long. Leinster has been slow to grow, always that step behind. They needed to stop asking why this was so. They needed to stop questioning themselves. They needed to realise exactly how good they were – not in a self-congratulatory way, but as part of thinking and playing like winners. Winners – like Munster – don’t EXPECT victory. They demand it. It is not to be granted, it is to be grasped. Leinster, as players, are not inferior to Munster, but as a team in the past errors and inconsistencies have let them down. Today was a perfect 10 display. There could be hardly a fault picked out in Leinster, apart from some poor lineout work.
And what a great thing it is too. Munster have bred this monster which ate up their Heineken Cup hopes this year. Their success has demanded that Leinster raise their game. The Munster ethos which has permeated to the national team also bled into the Leinster psyche. Today was the denoument. There would be no point in Munster dominating Irish and European rugby – we NEED Leinster to emulate them. The path they have trampled down is the one which Leinster have taken. Success breeds success as they say, and often it is the success of your rivals which inspires ones own triumphs – look at the English teams in the Champions League since Liverpool’s win in 2005. Brian O’Driscoll, Girvan Dempsey, Shane Horgan and others must have been green-eyed as they witnessed Munster taking home two European Cups. That can only have been the basis for the drive in the Leinster team today.
There is nothing better than watching two teams play a great game of rugby. One thing which is better though is watching two teams play a great game of rugby in a great setting with two great sets of fans and one great rivalry behind it all. Ireland should be so proud of its rugby players. The whole country has suffered the highs and lows with Munster, loving their passion and prowess unconditionally. Today, we saw first-hand the fruits this love has borne – a second, great rugby team which, with the sort of will and vigour and great skill we saw today, is worthy of such love too. It will be a love hard-earned but much deserved – Munster had to endure 2 lost finals, Leinster finally won a semi-final today at the fourth time of asking. And what a great feeling it would be for Munster’s crown to pass to the heads of Leinster on May 23rd. It would be hard to top today, but that might just do it.
We Stoop To Conquer April 14, 2009
Posted by bazmcstay in Rugby.Tags: Brian O'Driscoll, Croke Park, Dublin, ELVs, Harlequins, Heineken Cup, Hill 16, Kurt McQuilkin, Leinster, Liverpool, London, Milltown, Munster, Newmarket, Nigel Owens, Rugby, Ryanair, Stansted, The Kop, The Might Quin, The Stoop, Thomond Park, Twickenham, Ugo Monye, Yarmouth
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I’m sure it’s an obvious headline, one which several tabloid journos have probably wheeled out this weekend already in the wake of Leinster’s gritty victory at Harlequins Twickenham Stoop, but give me some leeway. It’s 1.22am and I’m only just in the door having started the day at 8am, driving from London to Yarmouth, back to Newmarket, on to Stansted, taking a delayed Ryanair flight to Dublin and driving across the city to Milltown. And then I had to climb two flights of stairs to get to my bed. The blows just never stop. Anyway, this is a quick post before I drift off, but I felt it should be put out there.
Leinster were superb yesterday. Not in the “scything through defences, bossing every aspect of the game and running away with the game” sense of the word. Certainly not. Harlequins had probably 70% of the possession and territory and won the contest at the breakdown for long periods – although I suspect Nigel Owens contributed to that with some very poor and unbalanced refereering. The sin-binning of Felipe Contempomi was completely incorrect and a total hometown call – he jumped to attempt to block a kick and the Quins’ player ran into him as he landed, yet the referee described the action as “a deliberate step across the man”! -, and Owens’ subsequent failure to bin Ugo Monye for a cynical barge on Brian O’Driscoll as he closed in on the tryline was inexplicable. Nigel Owens is usually a good referee, someone I have a great deal of respect for but he really did Leinster no favours.
No, what I mean when I say that Leinster were superb is that they refused to be broken. Despite the continuous onslaught from Harlequins, despite the referee and despite the away fixture, the line held firm. They conceded one score, a try which HAD to come but only came after 12 unbroken minutes of offense from the English side. The tackling, the cover, the contest of the scrum, lineout and breakdown was committed and disciplined, with every impact felt around the ground. Those daft, suited dinosaurs who dream up ELVs, with their wet dreams of lithe clones springing about the field in an orgy of free-flowing, freewheeling, free-scoring “Rugby-Lite”, were shown yesterday that good old thundering blood-and-guts rugby can be as damn entertaining as any of their fantasy games. Yesterday was a day for the fans who mourn the maul, who admire a wheeled scrum, who take pleasure in the crunching tackled and endless, inch-stealing phases.
Credit should be splashed about liberally. Kurt McQuilkin, Leinster’s defensive coach, did some serious patchwork to transform this team from colander to concrete in the space of a week. It would be unfair to single out any player as every single one of the Leinster side had moments of magic and sheer determination. As with my beloved Liverpool, as with the Munster of the early “Naughties”, they showed that a team need not have the best players to be the better team. They were Munster-esque, doing the travelling crowd of 3,000 proud. And that band of supporters were Munster-esque too, doing their men proud in return.
I was among the group and we sang our hearts and throats out non-stop, at full belt, rarely sitting, bouncing up and down, drowning out the home support. The only moments I ever heard the Quins’ fans were when they scored their try (before the Leinster fans ratcheted the volume up again) and during the playings of “The Mighty Quin” before kick-off and at half-time. This was Thomond Park. This was Hill 16. This was The Kop. The South Stand at Twickenham Stoop became the shrine to Leinster rugby and its devotees were fanatical in their worship. Let’s keep that up. I was delighted and immensely honoured to be part of that group effort yesterday. Let’s keep that 16th man fit and well for Croke Park and give the Munster men the fright of their lives.
A Golden Age Of Now And Then March 23, 2009
Posted by bazmcstay in Arts, Ireland, Rugby, Television.Tags: Anna Manahan, Aston Villa, Bernard Dunne, Dawson Street, Fulham, Grand Slam, Hull, Ireland, Jack Kyle, Liverpool, Manchester United, Manus Halligan, Martin McDonagh, Middlesborough, Millenium Stadium, Premiership, RTE, The Beauty Queen Of Leenane, Tony Award, West Ham
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The Masses On Dawson Street for the Grand Slam Homecoming
I don’t think there is anything I can add to the paragraphs and paragraphs which have been and will continue to be written about the Miracle Of The Millenium Stadium. The manner in which the mythic Grand Slam was won by Ireland yesterday made it all the more emotional. To be so close to clinching a historic victory only to stare into the abyss of despair right at the moment of triumph – the human capacity for emotional yo-yoing was seriously tested. To witness Bernard Dunne seal a world title a few hours later simply reinforced the old adage: What’s seldom is wonderful. Ireland is such a small country, our triumphs so unlikely as to be so much sweeter. It was a joy to be on Dawson Street today to welcome the team and coaches home – as Jack Kyle said yesterday, they will always be Grand Slam winners, just like him.
Oh, and my €10 bet with Manus on the outcome of the Premier League this year remains very much still on – Liverpool 5-0 Aston Villa. Hot on the heels of the demolition of ManYoo in their Theatre Of Nightmares last week, it just makes you wonder how we’re still behind in this chase. I blame Hull, Fulham, West Ham, ‘Boro, etc.
I watched a beautiful documentary on the late, great Anna Manahan tonight – stuck in the graveyard slot by RTE, like most of their best broadcasts. Filmed 4 years ago, the piece was rerun in tribute to the actress who died two weeks ago. It was a wonderfully simple documentary, meandering about Anna’s past and present, showing a stage great in her eighties, the weight of parts played, loves lost, years gone by. She reminded me a lot of my grandmother, that generation of Irish ladies in particular who speak plainly yet poetically, who grew up with “a certain type of way of behaving”, who ask why you won’t have tea, who delve into the immeasurable recesses of their memories to pick out a name, a place, a story they thought they’d lost. Watching her shocked reaction in the footage of her Tony Award win for “The Beauty Queen Of Leenane” brought a tear to my eye. To see someone who has lived such a long life and had such a successful career still living with her two brothers in a modest house, still revelling in afternoons spent in her garden staring at the sky or talking to her near-blind cat, it has a different emotional impact to sporting euphoria. It makes you think about how we deal with life, how we approach age, how we think about those older than ourselves. Anna spoke of having bought the plot next to her eldest sister’s grave years ago in preparation for her

- The trophy in safe hands with Messrs. O’Driscoll and Kidney.
own passing – a sort of pragmatism peculiar to those who have been schooled for half a century in the theatre, for those who lived a generation or two away from this, for those who probably witnessed that last Grand Slam triumph, 61 years ago.
An Irish-American Dream January 27, 2009
Posted by bazmcstay in Human Nature, Ireland, Personal Favourites, Rugby.Tags: America, British and Irish Lions, Broadway, Dublin, Edinburgh, Fast Food, Girvan Dempsey, Leinster, New York, Obesity, RDS, Rob Kearney, Robert Burck, Rugby, Shylock, The Congress, The Merchant Of Venice, The Naked Cowboy, The Statue Of Liberty, The White House, Time Square, USA
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I was at the Leinster match against Edinburgh on Sunday – a dour affair, 12-3 victory, blah blah blah but the fact is that the team are through to a quarter final against an opponent who won’t scare them – Harlequins – which is still two and a bit months away. There were some bright sparks, notably of course my schoolmate Rob Kearney who looks better and better with every game. His catching under the high ball has been exemplary, his kicking has improved immeasurably and his eye for an offensive running line is unmatched among his teammates right now. This Leinster Lion is soon to be a British and Irish Lion. Girvan Dempsey has been a great servant to Leinster and Ireland but it’s time to face facts: The future’s bright, the future’s Kearney.
The weather was pretty rotten in the RDS so I was well wrapped up and doing my best to contain body-heat when I was presented with the unwelcome prospect of someone donating an portion of their own body-heat to me. Yes, it’s that “2 Seats On The Aeroplane” question: An extaordinarily fat – not overweight, genuinely fat – man sat down next to me. And by next to me I mean he very nearly succeeded in sitting next to me on both my left and right sides.
Now, I’m able to tolerate many things, but being unable to sit properly in a chair which you have paid good money for on an unready-uncomfortable day is pretty tough to bear. There is very little one can do, however, short of emergency liposuction or a “Merchant Of Venice” job. Shylock could have drawn his entire pension from this guy. And this isn’t a case of me being size-ist – it’s the same as someone standing on your toes, or sneezing on you, in that they have caused you to feel discomfort. The only difference here is that a stumble of ones feet or a sudden sneeze are slightly less controllable than a bulging waistline. Common sense and genuine health concerns are being increasingly overlooked in Ireland, as witnessed by the increasing number of Irish teens who are, well, increasing. We only live once – don’t try living for two people.
A neat segue links the question of obesity to America, the so-called Home of Fast Food. And we had a very American visitor to the RDS for our half-time entertainment on Sunday: Robert Burck, the world-famous “Naked Cowboy”, is a busker in Time Square, whose act consists of him playing his guitar wearing only boots, tight shorts and a cowboy hat. A wet and windy January in Dublin isn’t the best place to ply that particular trade and his song was both brief and forgettable. And weren’t the cowboys to be found slightly further west than New York City? And surely they wore more clothes than Mr. Burck – cacti can sting, after all!
But nevertheless, the image of the Naked Cowboy is iconic. He was heartily cheered on and off the pitch and there was an awe-filled gusto to the way the man on the tannoy introduced our special guest “ALL THE WAY FROM NEW! YORK! CITY!!!” There is life in the New World yet. There remains a worldwide, and especially Irish, fascination with America and the holy grail of New York, the epicentre of that culture of hope and possibility. The White House, Congress etc. may all be in Washington but it is the New York skyline, the Statue Of Liberty, Time Square, the Subway, Broadway, these legendary landmarks to freedom, adventure and human flamboyance, which ignite the imagination.
America is dictating world culture to an unbelievable extent at the moment. The world’s political tides are pulled to and fro by the orbiting American satellite. And on the evidence of Sunday in the RDS, America is the still the hottest ticket in town, still the band we dream of seeing play live, still the celebrity we all want to shake hands with, still the true land of hope and glory. Heck, I’ve written plenty of posts about America myself over the last few months. Maybe it’s our Irish inferiority complex, our historical link to the states, the fact that we’re a little nation and they are our big brotherly neighbours across the ocean, who knows? But clearly, in hard times, we still look to America, to its icons such as the Naked Cowboy, to reaffirm our belief in human endurance and the impossibility of nothing.
Advent Calendar Post #2: Leinster Stroll, Liverpool Stutter December 6, 2008
Posted by bazmcstay in Advent, Football, Rugby.Tags: Albert Riera, Andrea Dossena, Bernard Jackman, Blackburn, Brian O'Driscoll, Castres Olympique, Daniel Radcliffe, Emiliano Insua, Fernando Torres, Football, Gerard Houllier, Heineken Cup, Jamie Heaslip, Jonathon Sexton, Leinster, Liverpool, Luke Fitzgerald, Nabil El-Zhar, Premiership, Rafa Benitez, RDS, Rob Kearney, Robbie Keane, Roy Keane, Rugby, Sean O'Brien, Steven Gerrard, Sunderland, Xabi Alonso, Yossi Benayoun
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I made the short walk from my flat to the RDS today for Leinster’s Heineken Cup fixture against Castres Olympique. The day was quite warm actually – comparatively – so the gloves I have mentioned would not have been necessary, there was little wind, the sun was shining in my eyes for most of the game and the early kick-off meant a fine lunchtime crowd had packed the arena. After the wonderful display against Wasps in the previous home offering from Leinster, there was a certain sense of inevitability about this fixture. Once feared across Europe, certainly the French teams are not quite what they used to be, but I can’t recall a game quite as easy as this against our continental foes.
In fact, Leinster didn’t play all that well. There were a lot of handling errors among the backs and continuity was not exactly easy to maintain with Castres holding some very suspiciously high lines. The forwards put in a strong effort: Malcolm O’Kelly gambolled about the park; CJ and The Stanimal are looking like a fine double-act; Sean O’Brien built on his man-of-the-match display in the Magners League with a typically exuberant, if slightly less controlled, display; Rocky Elsom and Jamie Heaslip were powerful at the breakdown; and the try for Bernard Jackman and man-of-the-match award for the lineout supremo, Devin Toner, were honours which the pack as a whole deserved.
The Leinster backline, however, continues to splutter and spark. With so much possession, there surely should have been more scores than the 3 tries – and the decision to kick some penalties in the second half when the bonus point should have been in their sights was baffling. There were breaks, there were flashes of brilliance (such as Rob Kearney’s sublime chip-and-chase and Girvan Dempsey’s ghosting break for the line) but the ball went to ground from either bad passes or just poor handling at an alarming rate. Brian O’Driscoll and Luke Fitzgerald are beginning to click, but still need more time. I didn’t imagine Lukey as a centre but he’s proving a strong defender and his jinking runs can electrify the crowd as D’Arcy could at his best. Jonathon Sexton lingered in possession too often and his passing let him down, leaving the backline struggling to get momentum. Sexton is a better player than he showed today – one chip into the corner was so effortless and he raised his game in the second half, hence the greater attacking threat.
The funny thing is, of course, that all this criticism is accompanied by a scoreline of 33-3. A walk-in-Herbert-Park it wasn’t, but Leinster trampled over a good team with a display that won’t rank as their best, but yielded a simple victory. Top of their group, with players to return and better days ahead, the belief is spreading that this is a Leinster team stronger than ever before.
Back in the world of the Premiership – now, of course, Royless – Liverpool had drawn their previous two league games without scoring and I was beginning to think that our annual Christmas slump was imminent. However, it was postponed today by the 3-1 victory at Blackburn. After an hour though, things were looking strangely familiar, with the score at 0-0 and Robbie Keane being overlooked in favour of Nabil El-Zhar when Rafa made his first substitution. Here we go, I thought, back to the good ol’ days of Houllier, with relentless goal droughts and bizarre substitutions. Suddenly Xabi Alonso found a way to pass the ball into the net from 16 yards and the game was over. Yossi Benayoun scored a wonderful individual goal and Gerrard sealed the game (after a Santa Cruz header pulled it back to 2-1) after a mistake by the Rovers keeper.
Liverpool never cease to amaze me. Two crap games at Anfield followed by another half of crap. Then a second half which showed how good we really can be. Keane’s inability to score is still worrying, given an injury to Torres. It was good to see Emiliano Insua – the league’s smallest player, apparently – given his chance at full-back – although that is probably an indictment of Andrea Dossena moreso than a compliment to the youngster. All I can say is, God help us if Gerrard gets injured in the next few weeks too!
On the matter of Keane – Roy, that is – I’m unsurprised by the departure from Sunderland. His history isn’t exactly one of sticking by people through tough times. I think he simply saw the Sunderland team as unsavable and has decided to save his managerial street cred. Fine. At least he’ll have more time to be walking his dog, I guess.
Finally, anyone else think Albert Riera looks a bit like an older Daniel Radcliffe…? That kinda hawkish look? Just me?

