You almost expected him to whip out a cilice, Opus Dei style, and attach it to his right thigh for the week.

Now, had an Irish defender over in Nicosia the following day mirrored O'Driscoll's reaction, we would have understood completely. Had the incident even taken place when the game was still in the balance, we would also let it go without comment.

But the centre's reaction, in the context it occurred, was symbolic of something more than mere annoyance at an error. Where before it appeared that O'Driscoll could just as easily leave it as take it with Leinster, now, it seems he genuinely cares.

Let's be honest about it.

Wonderfully talented player that he is, O'Driscoll has continually turned rugby logic on its head by consistently performing on a higher plateau for Ireland than for Leinster. It never made much sense, bar the rising yourself for the bigger occasion explanation, but the passing of time, and a nice little cheque from Penguin, helped to reveal a little more this time last year.

In his book, Brian O'Driscoll . . . A Year in the Centre, the rugby magician turned author spoke frankly about day to day life at Leinster and how the whole set-up frustrated him. "In all honesty, " he wrote, "I've scarcely learned a thing, technically, at Leinster for a couple of years now.

My game hasn't progressed as I would have liked, I'm just honing old skills and maintaining fitness levels."

His unhappiness with his progression at provincial level has sprouted the incessant rumours of him jumping ship over the past few years.

Since the 2003 World Cup, the Irish captain has been linked with a move to France, and at times England, close on every summer. He hasn't been afraid to brazenly flirt with potential suitors in full view of Leinster either, just like l'affaire Biarritz this time last year when O'Driscoll danced a passionate little ditty with the French club down in the south-west of France, in full view of the world's cameras. But now?

His deeds, like last Friday's tantrum of self-disgust, and his carefully chosen words, as you'll read below, suggest that rather than Leinster simply being a means to and end for one of the world's top players, they've actually become an end in themselves.

"I really enjoy going to training every day with the boys (Michael Cheika and David Knox), " says O'Driscoll, enthusiastically, when asked if he's now taking pleasure in the day job. "The things you do with Knoxy, the little skill drills are really enjoyable. You play little games and it's just fun. For a couple of years I was going through the motion of training and just looking forward to games whereas now, I'm really enjoying training and I'm really enjoying something like going to the gym which I never felt passionate about before. We have a fantastic attitude in the gym this year, it's really changed, some new personnel have come in and turned it all round."

He admits that when Cheika and Knox were appointed as Leinster's fourth coaching team in as many years, he decided to give them a chance to prove their worth rather than concentrate on his own exasperation with the chaotic situation at the province.

"When Michael and David came in, I gave them an opportunity to see what things would be like. Before they came in, I felt things were going a little bit stale, but the boys came in and really refreshed things. I really enjoyed my rugby last year, probably the first time in a long time. I felt that I was learning again. I still had plenty to learn, not only as a player but as a captain as well, and they were able to teach me some of that. And I really liked the brand of rugby we were playing too."

How could he not? The way Leinster have approached the game over the past 14 months has been genuinely refreshing for rugby watchers on this side of the globe. God only knows how much fun the system must actually be play within. A freedom of expression has been granted to the players by the province's coaching staff that's only mirrored in one, possibly two, other clubs on the continent. Some of the tries they've scored over the past 14 months bear testament to that, just think of Shane Horgan's first-half effort against Munster recently, or indeed O'Driscoll's try against Toulouse in last season's Heineken Cup quarter-final.

They're as talented a team as there is in Europe, on their day, but their lack of consistency holds them back.

"We're capable of playing some magnificent rugby and we're capable of playing some crap, " says O'Driscoll, refusing to use a famed drop of the shoulder to sidestep the issue. "You can't play crap in a semi-final, it just doesn't work that way. We've done that twice in the last five years and we've found ourselves out of the competition. You've got to realise that you have to get better in the competition as you go on if you're to win.

We peaked in the quarterfinal last season against Toulouse which isn't quite good enough. We took a massive leap forward in that quarter-final but took a huge step back in the semi-final by not fronting up. It gave us a reality check and it showed us that we're far from the finished article.

I guess our level of expectation, especially considering we had new coaching staff, were slightly exceeded by coming second in the Magners League and getting to the semi-final of the Heineken Cup. But at the same time, when you get to points like that in competitions, you get selfish and want to go one step further. That's why it's a big incentive for us to go one step better than we did last year.

"We were massively envious of Munster's success last year and we want to emulate