Happy families... Rory’s all smiles after leading his Ireland side to a historic first victory on home soil over world champions New Zealand
THERE is little doubt that it’s a special time to be a rugby fan, or indeed rugby reporter, in this part of the world.
In the past three and half years we’ve seen the clinching of back-to-back Six Nations titles, Ireland travel to a World Cup with genuine if ultimately misplaced belief, a win on South African soil, a Grand Slam secured in Twickenham after a win in Paris, a series win in Australia and now not one but two wins over the previously unbeatable All Blacks. The list goes on.
And yet, whenever conversation rolls around to the most memorable occasion you’ve witnessed, until Saturday my answer had remained the same for the past five years.
It was the All Blacks visit to Dublin in 2013, and a reaction to a game I’d not seen the like of either before or since.
Back then, still attending Aviva Stadium with a ticket and through the turnstiles, there was a different buzz in the air walking to the ground, one that only comes with a visit from the All Blacks. For beyond the 80 minutes, it seemed that pre-match electricity was finally to be justified.
And then the ending, a final play that managed to be both unthinkable and inevitable all at once
It was that precise moment, more so than anything that had gone before, that made the day such an unforgettable experience. It was the silence. The sta- dium had previously been louder than at any time since it’s major revamp, the Lansdowne Road days. But with one try and conversion nobody could find a single thing to say.
It’s a concept hard to explain to anyone who has never had their heartbroken by sport but the atmosphere can only be described as funereal. Fans that gathered outside, waiting for the Dart to pass so they could make their way into town, shuffled uneasily but still without a sound. It was the feeling that Ryan Crotty’s try had robbed you of the chance of seeing something historic, the weaving of a story that would have become part of the fabric of the game here, an “I was there” moment.
There was no sense of “we’ll get them the next time” either. When you processed what had just been witnessed, thought of all the players who had been born, lived and died without every seeing Ireland beat the All Blacks, it felt like a chance that may not come around again any time soon.
Little did anyone know. Even though that November brought two defeats and just the one win over Samoa, the crushing reverse marked the beginning of the Schmidt era. The hope will be that the peak is still to come Japan next year, that there is still more to come, but Saturday has set quite the benchmark.
Ireland’s forwards were superb, Peter O’Mahony world class and James Ryan again striking for a lock of any age, let alone a 22-year-old. It was all done without Conor Murray too.
It was a performance that finally put 2013, not to mention 1973 and all those other years of trying, to bed in a way that Chicago never could.
That’s not to be disparaging about the historic scenes of Soldier Field, but so much of that special occasion felt a one off.
Here we had a bona fide November international of old, but one where the script was flipped and the result unforgettable.
New Zealand, the All Blacks, the best in the world, were beaten by the better team.
In what has been Ireland’s greatest year, this was their greatest day.