Just too good

Thoroughbreds from the RDS canter on.

Having patched up O’Driscoll and beaten Clermont in one of the most impressive Heineken matches of another great year, there was no earthly way that Leinster would get beaten. Having said that, the rugged Ulstermen had managed to negotiate this year’s “Group of Death” – which is usually the one without an Italian side in it – murdering Leicester 47-0 in the process, then went and won at Thomond Park in the quarter finals. 

The very idea that it could be Ulster’s year was kicked into touch early on, courtesy of that man O’Driscoll, who executed one of his trademark offloads. The muscular certainties that Sean O’Brien brings to a rugby field did the rest. I still have question marks over young Sean as a 7 – O’Driscoll and D’Arcy’s excellence at the breakdown mask his shortcomings when quick thoughts and deeds are needed in the tackle area – but he is one hell of a ball carrier. And I would never, ever, pick a fight with him. Just ask the redoubtable Ulster back row, who tried to subdue the Leinsterman all afternoon, but left the field of play exhausted. Ferris, one of the players of the tournament,  came off second best here.

The vital cog in the Ulster machine, Ruan Pienaar, had an average game. He lacked authority, perhaps finding too much on his shoulders with the 20yr old Paddy Jackson at 10. When Pienaar did try to utilise his kicking game, he was just setting Kearney up for another virtuoso high catch. Even when the Ulstermen managed to breach the blue wall, the clock was ticking on, and they had nothing left.

So it’s 3 out of 4 for Leinster. And that ain’t bad…

Peerless Pienaar kicks Ulster all the way to Twickenham

The neutral may well be rooting for Brian and the Leinster boys come Heineken final day, if the semi final displays give us any clues as to the likely entertainment factor. Despite the fact that Ulster will be travelling across the Irish Sea as underdogs, the average rugby fan will probably feel that Heaslip, Sexton, and  O’Driscoll  offer rather more pazzazz than an Ulster side built around Wannenburg, Muller and Pienaar. As in 1999, when they won this competition, they have a grinding, remorseless pack of forwards allied to a strong kicking game. Like Saracens, they have chosen to import some hard nosed Boks into the set up to play the physical, territorial game that wins the tight matches. All this has been a carefully considered strategy. Not many internationals here to distract the focus, just some key personnel with the experience to handle the big occasions – Best, Wallace from “home”, and the key acquisition of Pienaar to direct the forwards, set the tempo for the backs, and kick goals from just about anywhere. And a look at the Celtic league standings will show that this is a team built for the sharp end of the Heineken Cup.

In short, they are a tough, uncompromising outfit, a nightmare to play against. Brian and the boys will be hoping this wet spell of weather is out of the way to give them a dry track at HQ. But they would be foolish to think that a meeting with Pienaar and his pals will be a warm hearted Irish craic of a day.

Big Phil to fill the Blues gap ?

Cash rich French teams continue to circle over the corpse that is the Cardiff Blues squad, determined to take the opportunity to strip the Grand Old Dame of Welsh club rugby of its juicy morsels. Alex Cuthbert gave a gloriously non committal reply to the inevitable question after his man of the match winning performance against Edinburgh, so we can assume he’s on his velo, too. Bon voyage, and Welsh fans will truly wish him all the best. In such an uncertain world, playing a game that is made up of potentially career ending collisions, we can hardly blame him. But will he get enough game time at a place like Toulon to learn his trade ? Hardly a concern for an old stager like Gethin Jenkins – indeed, careful management of game time is just what a 30+ prop needs – but a young player like Cuthbert needs game time He needs time reading games, needs time (in his case particularly) under the high ball, chasing back, covering kicks.

News that Big Phil Davies, one of the most highly regarded coaches either side of Offa’s Dyke, is in the frame for the vacant Blues job has to be good news for Welsh rugby. Although I don’t share the sense of doom and gloom that accompanies the big money signings, it has to be acknowledged that the National set up needs a strong Regional scene. The success of Gatland and Edwards has to a large extent hinged on the Regions being able to expose young players to a good playing environment.  Big Phil’s reputation may do a great deal to keep the Blues squad looking forward.

With “foreign” stars moving on, the Blues are looking closer home for replacements – Jason Tovey from the Dragons is a sensible piece of business, for example. Money is clearly tight. The move to the Arms Park – yet to be confirmed, but obviously on the cards – would also make sense. The players can’t be happy playing in front of vast empty stands as they are at the City Stadium. They can always return there when the big Heineken games demand it.

The job now is to ensure that the Blues – and the other Welsh regions – get to play those big games often enough.

What will life be like with these Lions ?

Good question, Mr Gatland. I expect you know the core of your side already. Most would expect it to be formed of your own Welsh players, so no surprises...perhaps.

Gatland is no rosey eyed loyalist. The strong foundations he has built in this Welsh squad have been based on a lack of such emotion. Players who failed to perform heard it in no uncertain terms. Ryan Jones, one of the players of the 2012 6 Nations, had to bounce back from being stripped of the captaincy, then seeing that young buck Faletau emerge from relative obscurity to become Wales' bolt on starting No 8. The canny Kiwi coach will also remember some of the Lions lessons of the past. Most painfully, Woodward learned that attempting to reassemble the 2003 WC winners in Lion skins was doomed to failure.

The starting Welsh XV may well form the core of the Gatland Lions pride, but some of those big names will need to look over their shoulders. Can any coach afford to leave such players as Heaslip, Ferris, Best, O'Brien, Sexton and Kearney of Ireland on the touchlines ? Foden, Tuilagi and Croft ?

For what it's worth, at this ridiculously early stage, here goes my Lions starting XV - Jenkins, Best, Jones, Gray, Charteris, Lydiate, Warburton (c), Heaslip, Phillips, Sexton, Roberts, Tuilagi, North, Halfpenny, Kearney.

Croft for Gray, O'Brien for Lydiate, Foden for Kearney, Healy for Jenkins after 60 mins.

The Rise and Rise of the House of Lancaster

So have the blazers got it right at last ? In essence, they were on to a hiding to nothing. England’s woeful WC performances were all but forgotten after the 6 Nations Championship. There was such palpable relief in the Twickers crowd that a resurgent Welsh team didn’t beat them senseless that they hardly objected to the Strettle try being turned down. After a lacklustre Irish team was turned over on the last weekend, the ink was as good as dry on Stuart Lancaster’s contract. To look beyond the caretaker coach would have been seen as illogical (nothing new there) and unpatriotic (ouch).

Players such as Lee Dickson waded in with their support - but then again, he would, wouldn't he ? The previous regime didn't have our Lee anywhere near the top of the scrum half pecking order.

Like several others, I remain unconvinced.

Lancaster is addicted to sports psycho-babble on a scale not seen at Twickenham since the dying days of the Andy Robinson regime. People will indulge you when they think you know what you mean, even if they don’t. But if your team starts playing like they don’t know what you mean…do you know what I mean ? My suspicion is that the “new dawn” for English rugby is still some distance away. Doubts remain over the side’s ability to create. When Charlie Hodgson’s charge downs, and penalty tries gained against an Irish scrum locked into reverse gear, are the only points gathered beyond Farrell’s trusty right boot, then those doubts will remain. Lancaster’s side will go to South Africa determined to “lay bodies on the line”, and to be “difficult to beat”. Against a Springbok side that is busy rebuilding after several years under a coach who seemed to distrust the turf within a stone’s throw of either touchline, I can’t help but feel that attrition will be the order of the day. As Captain Blackadder once noted, there will be a lot of casualties in a desperate attempt to move the HQ drinks trolley 50 yards closer to Berlin.

Meanwhile, north of the border, Robinson keeps his job. No new dawn there for our Scottish friends. Or for the players, who profess to believe in the old Bath flanker’s methods, but who looked entirely unconvinced in the final match against Castrogiavanni and his assorted legions. Cue more psycho-babble, if only to cover the plain fact that the Scottish are too mean/broke to pay Andy off…

Dan's the Man

The Dragons flanker Dan Lydiate turned in another man of the match performance as Wales closed out St Andre's stilted French side at the Millenium. The French coach had succeeded in bringing some rain down on Gatland's parade, but his controversial insistence on leaving the roof off was ultimately just another expression of his limited thinking at work here.
 In the second half, with the French forwards at last gaining a foothold in Welsh territory, Beauxis chose to go for a drop goal. He scuffed it wide - his dreadful game in a microcosm - and we knew the game was won. The final few minutes, with only a converted try between the sides, should have been hushed, with fingernails gnawed to a bloodied pulp. Instead, such was the superiority of the Welsh side, each man confident in possession, and sure of their technique, that a rendition of ”Hymns and Arias” grew and grew, the sound tumbling down from the terraces high up then rolling out over the grass. The players sucked it in, and we all realised that St Andre had done the whole of Cardiff a favour, because with the roof off the sound was able to spill out onto St Mary's Street, away across the Taff, out over Bute Park, and they could all stop worrying. The old Max Boyce classic only gets a proper airing when the boys in red are winning. When the final whistle blew, the stadium camera picked out Gerald Davies as he wiped away a tear. Perhaps for his old mate The Swerve. How he'd have loved that game. And the new Welsh legends can reflect on the fact that colleagues like Chopper Lydiate wouldn't have been out of place in that team of the 1970's.
And that, for any Welsh rugby fan, is what this Grand Slam is all about. Now this team can stop looking back over its shoulder, and head towards its own future.

Leg of Lamb on the menu after starters in Dublin and London.

England strettle for second best…(sorry...)

Whisper it, think it, but don’t say it out loud. It rhymes with “leg of lamb”, and Wales could be grabbing it at Cardiff on the 17th of this month. The players and coaching staff refuse to mention the magic words, but things are getting feverish on St Mary’s St. If it all comes together, it’s going to be one heck of a party. And after the gut wrenching disappointment of the WC semi final, few rugby fans would be churlish enough to say that this Welsh side don’t deserve it. The display at Twickenham was, by common consent, pretty ordinary, apart from that explosive (but point free) opening, the awesome discipline displayed when they went down to 14 men, and the boyish fearlessness of Scotty Williams’ try.

England played pretty well, particularly in defence. They exchanged some huge hits with the Welsh pack, and the midfield trio of Farrell, Tuilagi and Barrit refused to allow the Welsh three quarters to get up a head of steam. There were also glimpses of the English attacking threat, so sadly lacking against Scotland and Italy. Tuilagi made all the difference here.

Having said that, the overwhelming feeling at Twickers was one of relief – that the home side had put up a fight, that they were competitive. As a Welsh fan who lived through the dark days of the early 90’s, I can but sympathise…