What is it about playing Young Munster in Limerick that generates a feeling of gothic dread among teams from Dublin? You could be having a bumper season, scoring tries for fun and playing barbarian rugby, but then the prospect of a visit to Tom Clifford Park sends a cold chill down the spine and everyone comes over all Hamlet and our
‘native hue of resolution is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought’
The simple answer is that Young Munster have a tradition of paring rugby down to its core values and then asking the opposition to measure up. Basically they say, if you want to play you are going to have to get the ball from us, and we are going to fight you for it (legally) for as long as it takes.
So there is no point in having a game plan based on overhead flips, triple back switches and double back somersaults in the tuck position if you can’t get the ball from the gorillas in the black and amber jerseys. That’s not to say that they can’t flash it either. It’s just that when they do they’re generally running through pools of the opposition blood and tears after pounding them to a pulp up front for 70 minutes.
It doesn’t help either if the weather bears down. Howling rain and dark clouds add to the sombre mood. Nor does it help if you give them a start like a penalty followed by an intercept try. It must have been that my good friend, Adrian Darcy’s sexy new blue rugby hat fell down over his eyes as he received the ball . . . anyway he looked particularly fetching as the YM winger stormed off, looking on, red faced, in his blue hat, like a big ‘Tarf Christmas decoration.
Ado . . . You can be happy with the thought that before your career is over either you or your brother will have given me a bloody heart attack!!
So 11 nil down after 7 minutes, lashing rain, Young Munster in Limerick, not happy.
At this point you could excuse a lack of composure, and indeed there was a period of aimless kicking which brought us more trouble than relief, but when the forwards probed the fringes and found yards the game unfolded into a pattern where ‘Tarf took it up hard into the wind and the home side gave ground in gulps. Richie Lane lashed a penalty over into the wind and when the ‘Tarf pack were held up on the line for a home scrum after an outstanding drive the aggression from the visiting eight was too much and Garvey messed the Munsters scrum half for a score beside the posts which Lane converted again with a thrash into the gale. Half time was 11 10 to Munsters which was scant reward for having the big wind advantage. More importantly the Clontarf eight had bearded their big pack and in doing so had shredded the home sides plan A.
The second half was barely 4 minutes old when Mick Mc Grath headed off on a bowling ball run through the home defence carrying defenders on his back. A few yards from the line he popped to Tim McCoy who scored for 11 – 15. With 15 to go Richie Lane added another penalty for 11 18 and despite the home sides best efforts with the ball going wide the Clontarf defence held firm. The last 10 minutes were played out with frantic home attack being repulsed by outstanding tackling. It was quite tense stuff . . . only for those with a strong stomach as they say . . . which was as challenging for those on the pitch as for the supporters . . .
NOTE: game held up while Clontarf hooker throws his dinner up on the sideline !! At least he was throwing up straight !! Very distracting for everyone . . . I suppose we should be happy that he didn’t want to void anything else.
Note to management . . . How about bringing a portaloo for Wang? We can wheel it up and down the sideline to all the lineouts. And to think . . . most other hookers are happy just to have their balls dried before they throw!
Good work guys . . . very impressive . . . A great day.