TIME TO SHINE

Apologies to the poster on the UAFC from whom I have stolen this title. It has a nice ring to it and it neatly conceals the brutal realities of ‘rugby football’ as the late Bill McLaren called it.

One battle doesn’t win the war but there are certain pivotal ones that decide the outcome of your campaign in the grand scheme of things and rightly, tonight’s game with the Tigers is a pivotal match.

Ulster have stolen a psychological tactic straight out of the Tiger playbook by re-signing their marquee scrum half ‘midi ‘P’ and their rapidly emerging no. 9, small’p’.

Remember Tigers after they lost 33nil at Ravenhill? Martin Johnson announced his international swansong to a fervent emotional chorus and a strong sentiment amongst the fans and players by the time the return leg came round at Welford.

Supporters and players can ride their own emotional rollercoaster at Ravenhill tomorrow night in the knowledge the team is still being built and that Ulster are an institution back on the up.

All depends of course on the team producing the goods and taming the Tigers. Much will reside on the players not getting carried away by the media hype.

For the emotionally devoid fan such as myself I am not expecting a great game. With so much at stake for both sides this game will hinge on the finest margins and I hope Ulster will be the most adept at using the slide rule.

A 33nil victory by either side is unlikely unless small’p,’ bursting with emotional testosterone and bulging with Ulster pride throws one of his legendary brain *arts.

I doubt it somehow, because Johann and company will have the fire extinguishers to hand in the changing room in case the he ignites before lift- off.

All to play for as they say in cliché land but in all honesty I want Ulster to win this one and well, for altruistic reasons. I wish my trip to the Auvergne to have a real raison d’etre with Ulster still in the competition.

Ulster, it’s time to shine!

 

Darren Who?

I normally browse the internet version of the papers prior to putting finger to keyboard in case I miss something. Normally though it’s the journos who miss a fact here or there.

Take Tony Ward for example. He was ruminating on the vacant lot that is the no.13 shirt for Ireland and running a rather wonky rule over the contenders.

One would expect Darren Cave’s name to be at least mentioned in one of the 3 categories ranging from red hot favourite to name check.

Tony’s slide rule alas revolved around McFadden of Leinster, possibly Earls of Munster but, er………….McFadden of Leinster, erm, that’s it. Having considered moving an established 12 in Paddy Wallace, he ruled that out because he was an established 12.

So Tony’s choice was, surprise, surprise, McFadden of Leinster, presaging an outburst of Turnip/Mexican fervour in the replies column with each tribal correspondent championing his or her contender for the no.13 Ireland shirt.

Of Ulster’s established no.13 there was not a mention.

So Tony, get your provincial glasses off. As they sang in Mrs Robinson, ‘look around you all you see are sympathetic eyes, stroll around the grounds until you feel at home’.

Wardy, you need to get out more often.

For Farrelly it was a much broader brush on this thorny issue, as he considered, er McFadden but seemed to settle on Earls for a variety of reasons going on to dismiss Cave for another variety of reasons.

Having established that O’Driscoll organised the defensive line Farrelly then extolled the virtues of Cave and his organisation of, ‘wait for it’, the defensive line.

Fortunately neither Farrely or Ward are the coaches for the Ireland team and Cave doesn’t likely read the Irish Times or the Irish Independent so he may yet be in with a chance of the 13 jersey.

Earning that prize by the way will be accompanied by a heap load of vitriol, depending from which side of the provincial fence respective journos and fans sit. Much expectation will follow the selected one and ridicule or gushing praise will follow depending on the performance.

Fortunately I doubt whether Cave will be the choice even if he played a stormer tonight or in the Auvergne the following Saturday.

Still at least he rides high in the consciousness of those closest to his performances, the Ulster fans.

Darren Cave it’s time to shine!

 

Red Blooded

One journo who seems to be getting it just right is Alan Quinlan. ‘Ravenhill Factor Will be Decisive’ he boomed in his latest column. Despite finding the 33 nil Ulster game with the Tigers was at night time and the presence of bright sunlight as I recall it, Quinn was spot on in his analysis.

He had good things to say about McGlock’s and his time as Ireland’s skills coach but rather spoiled it by reminding me about the time a Quinlan inspired Munster beat Ulster at Ravers after we led 21 – 3.

Quinny reminded us in his newspaper blog that his cross kick made one of Munster’s tries that night. I don’t recall but I’ll take his word for it.

I do recall standing beside two rather downcast Munstermen who failed to lighten up when I told them at 21-3, that we stopped scoring after 3 tries.

Two Munster tries later and one of them conceded I might have a point there. Moments later I was heading for the exit as I’d seen enough.

I’ve started reading Quinlan’s autobiography, ‘Red blooded’ which is not a bad read though I haven’t fully got into it yet. So far, there have been some insights into the Munster psychology of winning and how it came into being.

Simple answer is Munster’s edge was forged in the cauldron of playing in Perpignan, early on in their 12 year European odyssey.

As I’ve a few airport hours to while away on my way to the Auvergne next weekend, I plan to catch up on the nub of Quinlan’s psyche and what made him tick. Should be a good read.

 

Ding dong Calling!

I received a text from Ulster stalwart ding dong 2 u last week requesting updates on the Ulster score from Edinburgh. As TV technology failed to shine, I relied initially on messages on the UAFC forum.

Trouble was I could tell there were scores with little emoticons waving frantically but couldn’t tell the exact score if you understand me, since no-one on the UAFC actually appeared to be doing any maths.

Fortunately help was at hand on the FRU site where mood swings were probably the music in the Ed’s living room and the bossa nova was his calculator totting up the number of points being put on the embarrassed hosts.

Even when the temperature rose the Editor didn’t veer from his precison- like recording of events in Murrayfield.

Ding dong was kept appraised in a similar clinical manner despite my rising excitement.

It was nothing compared to Gusher’s on the radio.

“The linesman flagging like a demented railwayman,” he boomed, as punters everywhere stared at the radio in disbelief.