Coaches capture imagination at Rugby World Cup

AS THE Rugby World Cup rumbles into the knockout stages, I’m increasingly more interested in the spectacle off the pitch than on.

It’s the coaches rather than the players who capture the imagination as they parry and thrust with cunning words and rusty barbs designed to trip opponents off the pavement and in front of an oncoming bus. Panto villains don’t come much better than Eddie Jones. The gimlet eye, the nasal laugh, the cheery smirk – he’ll surely pitch up in a Tarantino movie when his rugby days are done.

And his comment: “We’ve played 23 tests and have only lost one to the scummy Irish” – well, let’s just say he’ll not be getting an invite to link arms for a verse of the ‘Four Green Fields’ anytime soon.

Another individual with a Celtic bee in his bonnet is Warren Gatland, the Wales boss who’s still smarting from being described as having “the intellectual properties of a tub of Flora”.

A lingering wisp of bitterness from long-ago slights festers skin deep, with the green jersey provoking the same instincts in him as the matador’s red cape to the bull.

When it comes to the proverbial ‘good guy,’ is there anyone to best Joe Schmidt? He was once a smalltown school teacher – the same noble profession as heroic Tom Hanks, leading his band of brothers through hell in ‘Saving Private Ryan’. And in true Hollywood fashion, when Joe discovered his hidden Midas touch as an international rugby coach he changed the world. But don’t be fooled by the romantic works of Sylvia Plath and William Butler Yeats upon his nightstand – they are but a smokescreen concealing a smiling assassin whose finger hovers always upon the trigger. Our Joe seems always to publicly channel John Boy from ‘The Waltons’, calling on his sweetheart Jenny Pendleton with a poem and bunch of posies. One of his favourite quotes is by Albert Einstein: “Try not to become a man of success, but rather try to become a man of value.” We’ll know shortly how well he’s managed that.

Towering over all others, in height and girth, is Steve Hansen – an individual as mesmerising as he is scary. Since taking over the world’s most recognised sporting brand in 2008, rugby has gloried in his tactics and terminology. “If you can’t change the man, change the man,” remains his enduring All Black quote, followed closely with: “Worry is a wasted emotion.” His prickliness in post-match interviews recalls Brian Cody snarling at poor Marty Morrissey after the 2009 All-Ireland final – a kingly superiority allowed those who lose just three out of 56 international matches. There’s a distinct bang of Darth Vader about Hansen. Like I said, scary.

It’s still good to talk

A WET Tuesday morning, six of us heading out of town, I’m driving. An hour on, not a word has been spoken – just five faces illuminated by the glow of their smartphones.

I offer a hypothetical choice – gun to your heads, text or talk for the rest of your lives, and you can’t have both? Four immediately went for text. Sweet mother of divine.

Wilde’s witticism – “I love to talk about nothing, it’s the only thing I know anything about” – is clearly wasted on the now generation. What will happen to this crowd in situations where a clever word might shunt one up another rung of the career ladder, I wonder, or the affectionate whisper that’s rewarded with a kiss?

Use it or lose it, people – otherwise, like Joni Mitchell said, you won’t know what you’ve got ’til it’s gone.

A right royal buffoon

CARTOON of the week – Trump leaning forward to Queen Elizabeth: “Loved your Bohemian Rhapsody. Terrific tune.”