WHAT gOES ON TOuR

Goes in Rugby World

he flight to New Zealand for the 1987 World Cup told you everything about the state of the (irish) game, writes former ireland lock Neil francis. We spent 32 hours in steerage and by the time we reached Auckland i’d had two hours’ kip and felt as wooden as hugh grant.

We were billeted in a two-star motel in Dunedin. the food was so bad that my ribs began to show – not good at a time when bulk or ballast of any kind was considered advantageous.

the restaurant was a time capsule: i’ve not been to a 1960s civil service canteen but this is what it smelled like. henry ford came to mind – you could have anything on the menu as long as it was lamb stew.

i took three mouthfuls and gagged, then ate nine or ten pieces of bread and butter and was just getting up to go

Twhen (manager) Syd Millar, impressed by the quantity of bread and butter i’d eaten, insisted i had lamb spew seconds. “What weight are you now, son?” “About 16 stone.” “You need to be heavier. get it into you.” he almost stood over me as i committed gastronomic hara-kiri.

When Syd left, i went outside, ran up to the top of the car park, leaned over the wall, stuck my fingers down my throat and puked for ireland. i’d become the nation’s first bulimic second-row. l from No Borders: Playing Rugby for ireland, by Arena Sport, RRP £19.99.

“yOu COuLd HAvE ANyTHINg ON THE MENu AS LONg AS IT WAS LAMb STEW”