The Last Straw: Rugby has a culture of its own that, as I've admitted before, is way beyond the understanding of simple country people like me. I was amazed to learn, for example, that the sport's authorities will not be taking action over the so-called spear tackle on Gordon D'Arcy last weekend, because the offender "did not drive [ D'Arcy] into the ground", writes Frank McNally.
It's just as well D'Arcy's head is not pointy, and that the playing surface wasn't softer. I mean, how far down would he have had to be planted for the tackle to incur disciplinary measures? Gaelic football is often rightly criticised for being violent. Yet even in the Ulster Championship, the only way you could be driven into the ground, or anywhere near the ground, would be in a vehicle of some kind. Even then, unless it were an emergency vehicle, you'd be a brave man to attempt the manoeuvre in Clones.
Having conceded that I applied for my rugby doctorate over the internet, however, I can't help being concerned that Ireland will face Australia today, fielding a new cap who has been described widely as "a Christian". This surely can't be a first: Christians must have played for us before. But the difference is that 21-year-old Andrew Trimble is a deeply committed Christian, a student of Bible college, in fact, who talks openly about his faith. And while even deeply committed Christians may have featured on past Irish teams, until now there seems to have been a tradition that the opposition was not tipped off in advance.
As a devout team manager might say, the Bible is a book of two halves. In terms of player motivation, it's probably fair to suggest that the first half is more useful, what with its emphasis on smiting your opponents with the jawbone of an ass, and so on. The New Testament, which shifts the emphasis towards love, forgiveness, the meek inheriting the earth and so on, might be all right in the last 20 minutes of a game, when you have a 50-point lead. Give the fans a bit of entertainment.
According to one New Testament parable, it's better to invest your talents than to bury them in the ground. But as we've seen, rugby is a game where your opponent may bury you in the ground, talents and all. In this paper on Wednesday, Trimble admitted the sport presented a problem. "Obviously it's hard to fulfil Christian ideals on a rugby pitch," he said. Reassuringly for Irish fans, believers and atheists alike, he added: "I'm human and I'm going to let God down occasionally, but [ I know] he's just waiting there to say it's all right and put his arm around me." (Nothing there about letting down Eddie O'Sullivan, who will also be waiting to put his arm around him after the game.)
By coincidence, a story from Croatia this week highlighted the challenge facing religious sports people, even in the soft game of soccer. According to the newspaper Slobodna Dalmacija, the Hajduk Split former hard-man Goran Granic is enduring severe criticism from fans since he embraced God and abandoned violence. The team is now struggling badly and Granic admits that his failure to kick opposition forwards as regularly as he did has contributed to the decline. But he explained: "God has created football for fun and relaxation. He would not like players to commit harsh fouls."
Most sports stars and fans are more adept than Granic and Trimble when it comes to reconciling foul deeds with ideals. The same English soccer supporters who still rage at Diego Maradona's handball in the 1986 World Cup can view Michael Owen's penalty-winning dive against Argentina in 2002 as if it were the descent of the angel Gabriel. Irish fans are just as blinkered. When Maradona mischievously credited his goal to the "hand of God", many of us found this a plausible explanation. And when he dribbled through the entire English defence for the second goal, like Moses parting the Red Sea, it was hard for anyone outside England not to feel spiritually moved.
The question of whether a deeply committed Christian can also be a deeply committed tackler has been asked before, notably of Jason Robinson, the English winger who was brilliant going forward but could sometimes be a conscientious objector in defence.
Irish rugby fans will find grounds for optimism in the fact that Trimble has served on an "outreach" programme for juvenile delinquents in South Africa. Outreach has occasionally been lacking in the Irish rugby defence, so maybe this will come in useful if any of those godless Australians try to take advantage today. Hopefully Andrew will be able to embrace them, turn their misspent lives around and, short of driving them into the ground, at least point them in the right direction.