FROM Coupe de Monde to Coupe de Merde. Two weeks ago the world was at our feet, now we are on our knees looking for the near impossible to happen against Argentina next Sunday. And so to the morning after the night before. Yesterday at 8.30am in the Sofitel Pont de Serves in Paris . . . barely nine hours after Chris White blew his final whistle . . . Eddie O'Sullivan is up and about, dressed in the official team suit and ready to explain away the previous night's 25-3 defeat to France at the Stade de France. But there's something different about this post-match O'Sullivan. Where last week in Bordeaux he came out ready to pounce on anybody who asked a question any way critical of his side's efforts against Georgia, this time his mannerisms are altogether tamer.
For one, he's wearing his glasses, a device, that by their very nature, make him seem that little bit more vulnerable.
He's also using slow and deliberate hand gestures when he talks, revealing his palms as some kind of sign of openness. It's the old wounded animal technique. Come out fighting and you just might find someone ready to fight back. Lie down and play dead and only the most predatory of animals out there will have the instinct to go for you.
He goes through his quite logical explanations for Ireland's defeat . . . the five lost line-outs and the 13 penalties conceded . . . but it's the other things he says, and some he doesn't, that are far more revealing. Like his admission that he still has no clue what Ireland might need to achieve against Argentina to qualify for the quarter-finals. When it's explained to him . . . if Argentina got a bonus point against Namibia last night, then Ireland will have to beat the South American's by four tries and more than seven points next Sunday to qualify for the quarter-finals . . . he shrugs his shoulders and says they'll have a go. While there's still a chance to qualify, his side won't be giving up the ghost but it's a far from impressive rallying call. At any rate, it defies belief that in a pool of five teams, the coach of one of them can't recite exactly what his side need to achieve to get into the quarter-finals, and there's a more worrying aspect to it than that.
After the match on Friday, O'Sullivan admitted that he didn't think for one second about potentially earning a losing bonus point because his sole focus was on winning the match. The dogged pursuit of victory is certainly an admirable thing but not knowing what use a bonus point might have been if things weren't working out as planned is bordering on negligence on the coach's part.
And now for the many things left unsaid. For starters, the lack of Irish substitutions. O'Sullivan was asked why he hasn't used his replacements regularly over the years. His justification for treating the bench as some kind of monument . . . to be looked at but not touched . . . is basically that he doesn't believe in the whole concept.
He doesn't believe they can change a game. Tinkering is just not for him. He thinks the whole thing is some kind of media invention. That would all be fine if even one other rugby coach at this World Cup thought the same way, but none of them do. This has become a game for 22men, not 15. O'Sullivan hasn't evolved with everyone else.
It's just not good enough.
Just like his selection for Friday's game. It was a ridiculous waste to see Peter Stringer, Denis Hickie and Geordan Murphy all clad in green tracksuits with accreditation badges hanging from their necks before the match.
Sure, changes were needed but you don't leave 191 caps and 268 international points out of the match-day squad to be replaced by a trio with 22 caps and 71 points.
And there's the rest. The emotional intelligence deficit.
The innate conservatism in both tactics and selection.
The refusal to develop understudies. The obsession with winning the November internationals while the rest of the world treats them as experiments. O'Sullivan has a lot to answer for and finally, as it ticked towards 9am yesterday morning, he was asked if he heard the fluttering of vulture's wings in the distance.
"No, I think the IRFU gave me the four years because they want me to do the job for four years. Everyone knew this was the toughest pool in the World Cup . . . and we're not out of the tournament yet.
Maybe we should wait for the requiem until we're out of it.
For now its onwards and upwards and we'll leave the review until after the tournament."
The fluttering is only likely to get louder in the weeks to come.
|