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Admittedly, there were times during that Murrayfield dust-up that the sport being played by Scotland and Ireland bore little or no resemblance to the one England and France had so very gloriously played the day before, but no matter, after the nation’s nerves felt much like they’d been through a food processor’s coleslaw setting, the 28-24 triumph was more than acceptable.
The records will actually show that it was a 27-24 victory, but Ireland should, of course, have been awarded a bonus point for that time Tadgh Furlong found his inner Rudolf Nureyev, his side-stepping twinkle toes leaving not one but two Scottish gentlemen, George Turner and Finn Russell, on their bottoms. And even if they had got their hands on him, it would have brought to mind Bill McLaren’s observation when folk attempted to floor Jonah Lomu: “It’s like trying to tackle a snooker table.”
Before the match, Virgin Media’s Matt Williams had left his bottom on the fence when asked to forecast the result because, he said, he had no clue which Scotland and Ireland would turn up. As it proved, every form of Scotland and Ireland turned up during the course of the contest, the good, the bad and the indescribably ugly - notably, from an Irish defensive point of view, that Stuart Hogg chin-assisted try, and, from a Scottish point of view, their lineouts, which, largely, produced as much joy as Rory McIlroy’s trip to Sawgrass did for him.
Come full-time, the BBC’s Sonja McLaughlan told Johnny Sexton, his winning penalty having proved there’s life in the auld dog yet, that there were quite a few grey hairs in his head, the number of them no doubt multiplying when that Hamish Watson (who you’d never guess was a Scot) try levelled the game with just the five minutes to go. Johnny, stoic as ever, simply pointed out that there were no barbers open in Dublin, so his grey hairs had no opportunity to be shorn, thereby proving that he hadn’t availed of black market hair-snipping services.
Tangents
Incidentally - and this is the mother of all tangents - Eamon Dunphy proved on Saturday night that he has been strictly obeying the lockdown rules too by turning up on the Tommy Tiernan show with a hair-do that hasn’t seen sight nor sound of a barber in at least a year.
The only disappointing thing about Eamon and Tommy’s chat was that it ended, you’d have quite happily settled for it being turned in to a Netflix mini-series, the highlight, perhaps, their exchange about a Dublin nightclub.
Eamon: “Were you ever in Joys?”
Tommy: “Yeah.”
Eamon: “Yeah?”
Tommy: “Yeah. It was like the inside of a bishop’s skull - full of secrets.”
Anyway, there were only two moments over the weekend that came close to rivalling Flatley Furlong, one being Erik Lamela’s rabona against Arsenal in the north London derby, the other being Chloe Watkins’ goal against Britain, both efforts leaving you purring in an ‘ah stop’ kind of way.
The difference between the pair was that Watkins managed not to be sent off after her moment of excellence, and also, unlike Erik, ended up on the winning side, the Irish hockey team beating reigning Olympic champions Britain in Belfast.
“A squad of Irish hockey mothers will be very happy on this Mother’s Day,” said George Hamilton, who, no more than ourselves, must have noted that very good things happen whenever RTÉ give live coverage to this team ..... they reach World Cup finals, they qualify for the Olympics for the first time ever, they beat the Brits. RTÉ, then, are like this side’s four-leafed-clover.
Murray Walker
Which is kind of how Sky Sports’ Martin Brundle viewed Murray Walker and his influence on his fledgling Formula One commentating career. Working alongside him back then, Brundle recalled, “was like having Pele teach you how to kick a ball”.
Walker died at the age of 97 on Saturday, “a good innings’, said Brundle, but it didn’t lessen the sense of loss of a man who attracted to Formula One people who wouldn’t know a semi-automatic sequential carbon titanium gearbox from a bag of peanuts.
“He’ll go up to heaven and have a most spectacular grid to commentate on,” said Brundle of the fella whose Murrayisms, of course, became a thing of legend. “I don’t make mistakes,” he once said, “I make prophecies which immediately turn out to be wrong.”
Rest in peace, legend.