TV VIEW:IT WAS, perhaps, a week that had Tommy Bowe dusting down his old school poetry book in search of the verse about tackling that pair of impostors, triumph and disaster, with equal amounts of upper-body strength. Hardly had he been chosen as the Six Nations Player of the Championship when he roller-coastered his way to rock-bottom, earning just two stars as the guest chef on RTÉ's The Restaurant.

He was soaring again, though, on Friday, having a cracker of a game for the Ospreys, scoring two tries in their Magners League win over the Scarlets. It was a spectacular display of resilience in light of his culinary humiliation, one that must surely have left him in much the same shape as the cloves of garlic he dealt with in that kitchen: crushed.

There were many low points for Chef Tommy – the nadir, perhaps, when one guest looked at his Dauphinoise and declared “only a rugby player would give you a slab of potato like that”.

But, in fairness to Tommy, it wasn’t a complete calamity, one purring diner noting that his crispy duck had “totally held its integrity”. It was, mind you, a compliment we didn’t really understand, unless he meant Daffy had held his head high while having ginger inserted up his cavity before being roasted in the oven (1700C/3250F/gas mark 3).

The omens, though, weren’t good from the kick-off, the kitchen crew expressing some concern about the size of Tommy’s starters, suggesting they would leave the guests already satiated before the onslaught of his main course.

“But I want them to go out of here stuffed,” he said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that not everyone is a 6 ft 3 in, 15 and a half stone international rugby winger. He then turned his attention to his mash, in which he attempted to build rugby posts with his French beans. It wasn’t, we suspected, the heat in the kitchen that had the maitre d’ suddenly feeling faint.

Tommy’s Pan-grilled Bruschetta with Onion Marmalade and Goat’s Cheese would have been quite tasty, if it hadn’t been incinerated. “A bit of salad will cover that,” he said, sprinkling lettuce leaves over the cremated bits. “Mine looks slightly burnt in places,” complained the first guest, the second observing that “the greens are a bit overdressed”.

“Ah, I don’t think these guys know what they’re talking about,” Tommy sighed, with no little indignation.

Next, Tommy’s rack of lamb, his pride and joy. “I cooked it last week, I even took pictures on my phone, I sent them to my Mum, she was delighted with me,” he beamed. “Is it a bit rare,” asked one of his helpers. “Na, it’s perfect,” he insisted.

“It’s so rare it still has a pulse,” said the aghast diner who had the not entirely deceased Larry placed in front of him.

It should be said, though, that Tommy put considerable thought into his wine selection, opting for Thomond Reserve Vin de Pays, “because it’s owned by some of the Munster team”, and a Sauvignon Blanc Semillon, “because I got very drunk on it in South Africa”.

His Chocolate Fondant with Tickety Moo Ice Cream went down well, but the judges felt Tommy was just being lazy with his second dessert – a few lumps of cheese chucked on a board.

Tommy was a bit aggrieved about this allegation, not least because he’d gone to the trouble of putting a couple of grapes on the board too, but his temperament was truly tested when one of them had the temerity to doubt whether his stilton was, in fact, a true “artisan cheese”.

Tommy held his whist, even when he learnt he’d only won the two stars, so those judges will never know how close they came to being spear-tackled.

But, as we know, these rugby lads are made of industrial-strength stuff, even if some of them, privately, crave tuggable, huggable softness. “I played in Thomond Park in 1995,” Neil Francis told Setanta’s Daire O’Brien on Friday night. “And when you go there the intimidation factor is absolutely huge, they do everything to try and put you off your game.”

“What were you expecting, sandwiches and fizzy drinks,” asked Daire.

“No, but they changed the Andrex and put in sandpaper,” Francis revealed, leaving Daire shifting so uncomfortably in his seat he had the look of a man who had just ingested Tommy’s Pan-carbonized Bruschetta.

And carbonized is, possibly, what was done to poor old Manchester United’s title hopes by Chelsea on Saturday, although credit should be given to Alex Ferguson for his refusal to blame the officials in his post-match interview with Sky.

“With a game of that magnitude you really need quality officials and we didn’t get them today, I’m afraid. It was a poor, poor performance. When I saw the referee was Mike Dean I did worry, I must admit, but if people are criticising him, I’m not going to go down that road.”

Hats off to him, like Daffy he totally held his integrity.