Sean O’Donnell
Many years ago at a Munster v Australia match in Cork, (Munster won.) I met the legendary writer Con Houlihan. He was not in the press box but was among the people. He explained to me that while others would describe the match in detail he was “here to do the atmosphere”. Peter Burke of this parish has already given a very good summary of Saturday’s match, one of the better reports in my view he said totally impartially of course. Below I intend to set the scene and, like Con, “do the atmosphere”.
It was my 11th time at an away match against Wales and my 10th in Cardiff-1 was in Wembley while the current stadium was being built. It was my 3rd in the current stadium, all wins. My last trip was the 2009 game where the 1st Grand Slam in 61 years was achieved with another 2 to follow over the next 14.
I had not planned to go this year until I heard my siblings and their spouses were travelling and as I regard myself as the No 1 supporter in the family I was not going to let them upstage me. I contacted the IRFU wheelchair ticket person, Emma Louise Keogh to enquire as to whether they could help. Emma explained that their allocation was over subscribed but that I would be entered in a ballot.Luckily my number came up and I frantically set about trying to secure the best deals on travel and accommodation.
On the Thursday morning I took the redeye flight to Birmingham and travelled on to Cardiff by train. On Friday I secured a ticket for the under 20s match in Newport and headed there by train getting absolutely drenched on the way. To say the facilities for wheelchair users at Rodney Parade were poor would be flattering. The small space available was open but accessed through a covered ramp. When the rain started we pushed back onto the ramp for some cover.
As we all know now it was a disappointing performance by Ireland who butchered several opportunities to win the match. In the small covered area my fellow wheelchair viewers talked animatedly about the state of Welsh Rugby and confided that they were there to hopefully see one successful Welsh team over the weekend. They were Cardiff club people serious Rugby people and they mixed reminiscences with sardonic wit. One man, an age equivalent roughly of mine, who had played serious Rugby was scathing about the WRU and, in particular the scapegoating of Warren Gatland . At the same time the banter and good humour were infectious. I shared a train journey back to Cardiff with some of them and they saw to it that I knew the way back to my hotel. Despite the loss of the match I left them with a smile on my face.
On Saturday morning I linked up with my family for a brief interlude. We took photos in the stunning grounds of Cardiff Castle before parting ways and I went to link up with my old pal Noel who would be accompanying me to the match as usual. We had come over on the same flight but Noel has family in Birmingham and also in Wales so we had gone our separate ways until the match.
In the Millenium Stadium the wheelchair seats were behind the goal Ireland were to defend in the first half. They were in the bottom tier of the stand and the overhang from the tier above made sure we stayed dry no matter what. We had an unimpeded view of the pitch as with Lansdowne Road.
Before the match ,as usual in Cardiff the atmosphere was electric. Many Welsh people had told me we only had to turn up but there was no such despondency on view in the stadium. It seemed that their team could not but respond and so it proved. The choir belted out the Welsh Rugby standards, Sospen Fach, Bread of Heaven, Hymns and Arias etc and the crowd joined in with full-throated emotion. As expected our supporters gave a spirited rendition of Ireland’s Call but Land of Our Fathers made the hairs stand on our necks.
Ready to go and we anxiously awaited an early Irish score to settle the nerves. A scrum penalty against us, Cristophe Ridley having recognised Andrew Porter’s face from the wanted posters in refland. More of those were to follow. We exhaled a sigh of relief when Jack Conan gave us the early try we craved. We breathed even easier when a rare scrun penalty went our way and Sam Prendergast pushed the lead out to 10. But we were headed for rougher terrain. Gareth Anscombe cut the lead back to 7 with a penalty. Then a review of suspected foul play. When the footage revealed Gary Ringrose going in with a highly reckless challenge, we could scarcely believe our eyes. Gary is one of the cleanest players in the game and this was completely uncharacteristic. But we knew he was in trouble and were not surprised when his yellow card was upgraded to a 20 minute red. Meanwhile Anscombe reduced the margin to 4 and the comfort blanket was gone. Wales scented blood and attacked the Irish line with gusto. Our 14 were under severe pressure and it was almost inevitable when Jack Morgan crashed over. The unthinkable scenario: Wales would turn over in front at half time. A most uncomfortable interval ensued.
Worse was to follow on resumption. After Ringrose’s card underwent a change of colour Wales again launched an attack with Tom Rogers availing himself of the space accorded by the extra man to score an acrobatic try in the corner. Even without the conversion Wales were 2 scores clear. This was not in the script.
Cue the arrival of Bundee Aki to restore us to 15 and wake us from our nightmare. In moments he was sporting the scars of battle. Sam Prendergast brought it back to one score. Then a kick to the
corner for James Lowe who was fast running out of road. Lowe showed lightning reactions to palm the ball down to the onrushing Jamie Osborne to get it down in the same movement. Noel and I had a brilliant view of that unfolding. We were now level but Sam missed the conversion prolonging our anxiety. He made amends landing 2 more penalties to make it 24-18 still a one score game. But there was one last job for the cardiac ambulance.
Wales refused to concede defeat and their winger finished off a backline move to seemingly ground the ball. Tearing my hair out I thought he was in touch and prayed that he was. Further slow motion replays showed he had not in fact grounded the ball and the TMO’s confirmation was the balm for our troubled souls. With 3 minutes to go Sam landed another penalty to finally put the game beyond Wales. The relief for Irish supporters was palpable but also for the Welsh who could see their team decidedly back on the right track even if they have a little bit to go yet.
As the ref brought a fascinating madcap game to a close the Welsh people were fulsome in their congratulations and it reminded me once again that you do not judge any people from the demented souls on social media.
Noel and I split up with him rejoining his Welsh based relatives and I began to contemplate my long journey home. Walking away from the fine majestic stadium I basked in the warm glow of victory from which one never tires irrespective of how often one experiences it.
Another quick rendez-vous with my family but plans to dine with them had to be replaced with food on the hoof as my train to Birmingham Airport loomed ever nearer. The railway staff in Britain as they do at home gave me wheelchair assistance with a smile as I took the train to Birmingham New Street followed by a connection to the airport at which point they brought me to my hotel across the road from the airport. A short night’s sleep and the airport staff came to collect me and spirited me through check-in and security and on to the flight to Dublin where the Aer Lingus staff looked after me. A big thank you to rail, airport and flight crew for their friendly and professional assistance. The last leg of the journey was the Aircoach to Dalkey. Again the staff were professional but unfortunately the smiles were missing.
At home exhausted my first act was to watch a re-run of the match and I re-lived the emotional roller coaster of the previous day albeit happily knowing the outcome. Another Rugby weekend which will live long in the memory.