Now we know Ireland can rule in land of giants
ON and off the pitch, this was a day of insights into the modern game. The urgent sporting discovery was that Ireland can rule in the land of giants. As expected, they showed the greater attacking elan, and came close to cutting through a South African defence that was hard, fast and allowed to do as it pleased with the concept of the offside line.
More importantly, they were able to handle those times when South Africa brought play close to the Irish posts, where the plan was to deploy the old ‘bigger is better’ wisdom and batter across the line.
Lineouts were disrupted, mauls resisted, and a series of close-in charges by South African ball-carriers that should have been given licence plates, were defended.
Each little victory was celebrated with relish by the Irish players. That was partly because the excellent Springbok defending was preventing Ireland finding space to attack, but it was also because the Irish team fully understood the value in facing down the biggest bullies in the game.
Their readiness for the game on those terms found most vivid expression in the Josh van der Flier try six minutes into the second half. South Africa’s defence of an Irish maul was fierce and drove the Irish out of play — but not before the brilliant Leinster loose forward had dotted down the ball somehow.
This was a perfect distillation of the Farrell creed, that playing smart is vital against the biggest teams. With a World Cup in mind, this insight was invaluable.
The later flourish through a nerveless attack that put Mack Hansen over in the left corner was a more recognisable Irish attack, but being able to call on more than one facet of play is the enduring dream for an Irish coach.
Another lesson from rugby in 2022 was a familiar one: this is a tough, sometimes brutal sport. The headline statistics from the first half tell us exactly that, with three players replaced injured, two of them apparent contact injuries. There was a blizzard of other stoppages for treatment.
The much-discussed tipping point, the place at which the physical intensity maxes out and the game moves from unrelenting to dangerous, seems uncomfortably close on days like this.
There are long-term effects of this, given the immovable shadow that concussion now casts on rugby. In the narrow focus of a coach, it has World Cup meaning, too. The memory of an Irish side devastated by the effort of beating France in 2015, and the fall that came for a patched-up team against Argentina thereafter, is easily stirred by the painful effort it took to best the Boks here.
Another reminder of the reality of rugby today came with the sight of Conor Murray’s tears. This is no game for sentiment.
Murray ran out on to the pitch ahead of the other 29 players as he was honoured on the occasion of his 100th cap. Thirty-five minutes in, he was hobbling off, distraught, rubbing his face as injury ruined the biggest day of his career.
Stuart McCloskey had gone eight minutes earlier, his arm trussed up in a make-shift sling. His disappointment could have been even better placed than Murray’s; the latter should still, once fit, go to the World Cup, but McCloskey has been a respected talent for years, who found his way into the Irish centre barred by a succession of talents.
His opportunity came here because Bundee Aki was suspended and Robbie Henshaw pulled up lame late in the week. Events may not come together so benevolently for him again ahead of the 10 Tests between now and next autumn’s competition in France.
Life comes hard and cruel on nights like this one.
A less serious but still relevant detail worth noting surrounds the hames made of the so-called matchday experience.
This had caused some disquiet in the sport’s more traditional outlets during the week, but worse than having to let the thirsty pest two seats inside you in and out to the bar throughout the game, is the IRFU’s approach to entertainment.
From gormless efforts to build up an occasion that involves the best team in the world play the World Cup holders, to an early blast of Bruce Springsteen during an extended break in play, it was abysmal.
This matters to people paying a fortune for expensive tickets, but it has an effect on the game, too.
From the first whistle of the game to the one that signalled half-time, 57 minutes elapsed. That shows how disjointed the game was, but it also makes a demand on fans expected to stay in their seats.
If it takes two hours to play a match, then people are going to need food and to use the toilet, and a great many will have thirsts to slake.
Blaring out music won’t keep them in their seats, and nor will the giddy, echoey thoughts of a DJ.
The entire discussion around drinking at rugby internationals is rendered moot, anyway, by the simple fact it will continue; bars will not shut during Tests, because they bring in a fortune.
It feels a very rugby problem, but that is to trade on old ideas about the make-up of an Irish crowd (outdated thinking shared by some in the union, it would appear).
And just like the support has become more varied, so has the team and their game.
By the end, a tremendous atmosphere had taken hold, all on its own, helped by the large number of South African fans, the excitement of the home support, and the accomplishment of the host team.
The Springboks whinged and complained at Ireland’s game management, and Ireland didn’t give a damn.
The world champions were humbled.
A challenge was passed.
The hope grows.