"Who beat the Munstermen?

Who beat the Munstermen?

Who beat the Munstermen?

Good old Sospan Fach"

THEY have a song down Llanelli way.

'Sospan Fach' it's called, 'little saucepan' as bearla. It pays homage to the town's tin plating industry, something that appears to have passed away around the same time in this part of the world as the mines. In terms of the tune's relevance to rugby, there's about as much of a link as there is in 'The Fields of Athenry', but each and every one of Llanelli's 44,000 inhabitants sing the song as though their lives depend on it. Despite the reverence it's afforded, they're not opposed to changing the lyrics, or even the language , when the occasion demands.

Back in 1972, after the Scarlets had beaten the All Blacks 9-3 at Stradey Park, the chorus was changed a little.

Twenty years after, when the touring Wallabies were downed on the same patch of grass, they did likewise.

On Friday it was a similar story. Above are the haunting words . . . even more haunting when twinned with the tune . . . that Munster will find swilling around their heads over the next couple of weeks.

Their Heineken Cup title has been surrendered and pretty timidly too, all things considered. At 17-3 down with 20 minutes to go, there was a brief period of sustained pressure which at least threatened to make things a little interesting, but that petered out after referee Chris White penalised Munster for accidental offside 10 yards from the Llanelli line.

And true, they were daring after Barry Davies's try, but it was in the manner of the condemned man more than anything else. All in all, they were out-played and, strangely, even out-fought by a Llanelli side who played some scintillating rugby on the front foot, while standing up to everything Munster's much-vaunted pack could throw at them. What stood out more than anything else was the Welsh side's aggressiveness going forward.

Stephen Jones didn't just pass the ball to his centres, he fired it out with clear intent.

You got the sense that they knew exactly what they were doing. Munster on the other hand . . . and this is no reflection on Ronan O'Gara's passing ability . . . appeared to be throwing the ball out for variety's sake.

Trevor Halstead, unusually for him, had awful trouble holding onto the ball while Lifeimi Mafi, not for the first time, looked out of his depth at this level of rugby. His passing was sloppy, his tackling meek and while he has undoubted running ability with the ball in hand, his confidence appeared so shot when those opportunities arose that he ran down every cul-de-sac in Llanelli. You can only presume that Barry Murphy was some way short of full fitness, because if Mafi was selected ahead of Munster's most threatening runner on form, it was an awful judgement call by Declan Kidney and the rest of the Munster brains trust.

On the topic of judgement calls, you have to question the coach's decision not to give his full side a much needed run-out together against Ulster last weekend. Hindsight is a useful tool but you can't help but feel that some of the rustiness visible on Friday night . . . elements of their line-out play, for example, and virtually any kind of planned backline move . . .

would have been eradicated with 60 minutes together up at Ravenhill. Munster have, almost as a rule, put their best team out the week before a Heineken Cup game and over the years their efforts in those foreplay fixtures has given them much sustenance heading into the real thing. Kidney defended his decision again on Friday night not to give his full team a run-out in Belfast but he wasn't convincing.

The words of O'Gara, Munster's captain on the night, made more sense. "They had a hunger which we couldn't match, which was the disappointing thing, " said the outhalf. "The international boys took a break last week and we weren't as sharp as we should have been tonight. It's going to be a long few days now. Llanelli were very sharp.

They kept the ball alive very well once they made line breaks which kept us under pressure. In the third quarter we didn't have the ball for long stretches. We got eight points, but I wouldn't say we got ourselves back into it.

They were generally just on top for the whole evening."

If O'Gara's words were honest, then so was the attitude of Munster's travelling band after the game. The general sentiment was that Llanelli deserved to win the game, plain and simple, and that Munster were beaten by not only the better team on the day, but by the better team in general. There wasn't a word of begrudgery in losing their European crown and in many ways if they were going to bow out of the competition to anybody, it would be to their Welsh replicas, the Scarlets.

The similarities between the two sides are fascinating. Both sides wear red, for starters, and they've both beaten the touring All Blacks and Wallabies over the years.

In fact Llanelli's 1972 victory over New Zealand came six years to the day before Munster achieved the same feat.

They both have cerebral coaches in their pasts, Carwyn James and Tom Kiernan, while the sides hope to be playing in brand spanking new stadiums in the next 18 months.

Both have also had their fair share of Heineken Cup heartbreaks. Munster's aches have been well documented at this point but there's little doubt that Tim Stimpson's last-minute penalty in the Heineken Cup semi-final of 2002 . . . which went over off both post and crossbar to deny Llanelli a place in the Millennium Stadium decider . . . is one of the competition's most tear-jerking moments. Even watching it now will hurt the neutral a little.

More than all that, though, the way the reverence by which rugby is treated by the respective supporters unites them like no other. As we've mentioned, Llanelli has a population of 44,000, with an average Magners League gate of 6,000 to 7,000. That's roughly 20 per cent of the entire town. Munster are one of the few other teams in Europe who have such a hold over their natives. The prematch atmosphere at Stradey Park on Friday night, with both 'Sospan Fach' and the 'Fields of Athenry' echoing around the creaking old ground, was almost spiritual. It's one of the reasons why throngs of Munster fans have already vowed to keep their pre-purchased Heineken Cup final tickets and support Llanelli at Twickenham should they get there. If they get there, they'll be able to add another new chorus to their famous song.

Until then, however, they'll get along just fine with the present version.

Who beat the Munstermen? Good old Sospan Fach.