Golden memories frozen in Lansdowne Rd fridge

Brendan Gallagher delves into some of rugby’s most enduring images, their story and why they are still so impactful

What’s happening here?

IT’S February 26, 2006 and a creaking Lansdowne Road, the oldest international venue in the world, is enjoying a final season as a Six Nations venue before the bulldozers arrive and work starts on the shiny new Aviva Stadium. Ireland are playing Wales on a blustery but pleasant afternoon and although the rugby is decent many of us are just soaking in the beery ambience of a cherished sporting venue.

What is the story behind the picture?

Two stories really. The bigger picture – the image we are looking at – is the long farewell to a ground that had become a Championship institution as well as the emotional home of Irish rugby. For over a century countless millions of rugby fans had made their way to the stadium but suddenly it was all coming to an end. By December 2006, it would be no more.

The story within the story is that this was a particularly tense day for both sides. Ireland had trailed 43-3 to France early in the second half a couple of weeks earlier before recovering to 43-31.Which Ireland would turn up?

As for Grand Slam champions Wales, it seems that player power had seen their successful coach Mike Ruddock ousted with his sidekick and player favourite Scott Johnson installed. The champions had promptly been thrashed 47-13 by a far from vintage England first up before recovering their poise a little with a 28-18 win over Scotland. Again which Wales would turn up?

What happened next?

Ireland went into pragmatic mode and, after an early Wales try, simply overpowered the visitors up front, scoring three tries en route to a 31-5 victory. It left the Irish crowd jubilant but also a little regretful. Where had that ruthless Ireland side been in the first half in Paris? This was one of those seasons under Eddie O’Sullivan when Ireland could have won a Grand Slam. The one that got away. A terrific late win over England at Twickenham saw the Irish finish level on eight points with the French who had lost their opening game away to Scotland. If only they could play that game at the Stade de France again! As for Wales, victorious under Ruddock, they finished bottom of the pile under Johnson.

Why is this picture iconic?

It’s quite difficult to do justice to Lansdowne Road and what it meant to those of us who trekked there five or six times a year for Ireland’s games, not least because those memories are always part of the weekend generally, which was always cracking.

The late nights of Guinness and nonsense, the reviving full Irish, a long read of the papers, the walk down Baggot Street and a couple of sharpeners and – if you were lucky enough to be a member of the Press – the arrival of scalding hot soup an hour before kick off in the Press room in the grandstand, a minuscule prison cell of a room which resembled a nuclear bunker.

That sensation of being under fire would be reinforced every two minutes by an ominous rumbling noise and the feeling that the concrete stand was vibrating. Which it was as the latest DART train underneath the stand either juddered to a halt or set off on a new journey.

Lansdowne Road, although housing 49,000 fans and set in the heart of a big city, felt much more rural and relaxed than that, at least before and after a game. For the duration of the game it was bedlam.

By this stage of its existence most of the fans were housed in the massive east stand, out of sight to our right and big south terrace to our left which is also largely obscured.

Centre stage here is the old concrete grandstand of modest capacity, bizarrely bookended by the rather ornate mock Tudor clubhouses of two of the most famous clubs in Ireland – Lansdowne top right as you look at the picture and Wanderers, top left. How totally incongruous but also how important in setting the tone. A quick word about those two famous clubs. Lansdowne have spawned over a hundred Ireland internationals and 15 Lions while Wanderers can claim 87 Ireland caps, 11 Lions and famously three VC winners in Thomas Crean, Frederick Harvey and Robert Johnston.

What this also shows is how exposed Lansdowne Road was. If there was any wind around – and it’s been known in those parts – it was sucked in and then blasted down the pitch. One of the reasons Lansdowne Road was such a noisy ground is that a mighty roar would start on the big south terrace and it be carried down the ground by the wind.

And it was a bitingly cold ground. Forget all that nonsense about the Gulf Stream, I have never felt so cold than on a cold winter’s day trying to tap out copy at Lansdowne Road. The concrete stand was a perfect fridge and the windchill on an Arctic day was off the scale.

Footnote: The only, very small, part of the old Lansdowne Road that remains is the War memorial that the IRU erected after World War 1. That was preserved and is now situated opposite the media centre within the shell of the Aviva Stadium.

“I have never felt so cold than trying to tap out copy at Lansdowne Road”