THE ADVANCE party of Irish fans who basked in the Parisian sunshine or holed themselves up in the city’s Irish pubs with their hardy green hammers yesterday had history to soothe them as they mulled over Ireland’s chances in this afternoon’s Six Nations match against France.
It’s not that the record books would look encouraging to an outsider not versed in the logic of the underdog fallen on good times.
Ten years have passed since the last Irish win in Paris, and there’s an inescapable sense that the weight of history will be lined out in blue with a smug grin on its face at the Stade de France this afternoon.
But for many fans, it’s a reassuringly familiar scenario. Ireland vs The Odds. And after all, if any Irish side has a knack for shrugging at the received wisdom . . .
Then there’s the more recent backstory. It’s just three months since Thierry Henry’s insouciant hand-pass made grown men weep and sent Franco-Irish relations into a tailspin. Wounds are still raw. They’ve taken down the yellow tape around the ground, but how many of the thousands of Irish who fill the place this afternoon will be oblivious to the ghosts of that night in November? Guarded optimism. They’re the watchwords.
“My hope is that we’ll win and win well, but my expectation is that it’ll be a very close and tense game,” said Niall McCorley, who travelled with his wife Anil, father Pearse and four-year-old son Ronan. “I can see Ireland winning. I think they have enough experience in the team. I think it’s always tough in Paris, but it’s the first time that we really believe we can beat the French.”
Pearse isn’t quite as optimistic. He’s give Ireland “a 40-60 chance”.
“You can never be optimistic coming to France. Maybe it’s because of my age – I’m 66. Of course I’d give Ireland a chance, but things have to go right, between the referee and the crowd and everything else. It’ll be a difficult match.”
Paris wasn’t exactly in the throes of egg-shaped hysteria this week. This is far from the game’s French heartland, and you could quite easily have escaped the build-up to today’s match. But with most Irish fans expected to fly in late last night or this morning, the city was beginning to rouse itself by yesterday afternoon.
The balloons and bunting were going up outside the Irish haunts, and even a few brave and enterprising French shopkeepers could be seen planting Irish Tricolours in the windows.
“It’s great fun, because there’s a great relationship between the two at the rugby,” said David Loughney, manager of Kitty O’Shea’s. “The day of the game is always crazy.”
For Michael O’Hare, a former president of Galwegians Rugby Club who was in town for the match with his wife, the self-proclaimed “rugby widow” Úna, Ireland will have an “excellent chance” if they contain the French for the first 20 minutes. “The French tend to really come at you like an express train in the first 20 minutes and if you can’t handle it, they could be three tries up on you before you know where you are.”
People around the French team have needed little prompting to disparage the Irish game-plan all week, but yesterday scrumhalf Morgan Parra pushed it up a notch when he accused the Irish of “intelligent cheating”. If it was a nerve he was hoping to strike, he chose his words well.
“I was disgusted by that, to be honest,” said Niall McCorley. “When I read it this morning, I found it disgusting to come out with that word, because we all know it’s stemming from a lot of disappointment among the Irish people about what happened in the World Cup. And I thought it was a cheap shot.”
And to show how deeply the Hand of Henry has left its imprint, McCorley turns to his four-year-old, distracted by a bag of crisps.
“Ask my son. He’s not even five. ‘Ronan, what are the French?” The boy looks up and thinks about it for a second. “Hmm. Cheats!”