The person responsible for the 1.15pm start should be made eat his rashers and porridge while listening to a hearty rendition of Bread of Heaven

THE SIX Nations has a lot going for it. Some of the world's great players playing the great game for their country gives the rest of us the opportunity to visit some of the world's great cities; Rome, Paris, London, Edinburgh, Dublin and eh yep I think that's it, but an international fixture at 1.15pm on a Saturday should really be made illegal.

I predict a lot of indigestion in Croke Park on Saturday. Most of us will only be just finished the rashers before we have to get stuck into the heave-ho, hustle 'n' bustle of the pre-match shuffle up Cavendish Row.

As so much rests on the match for both sets of players - never mind the spectacle of a shoot-out between two coaches for the bounty of a Lions job which will be announced in May - with both sets of supporters giving it togs, you'd have to say whoever scheduled this as an appetiser for the non-event of a Calcutta Cup match had similar foresight to a Northern Rock shareholder.

Why weren't both matches scheduled later in the day? From a punter's point of view it's a bit like having your porridge before going to bed. However, it's more likely it'll mean more pints once out of bed which, come to think of it could solve all the problems. Given that it's a nasty old commercial world out there it's understandable that TV should dictate the scheduling, but how does this even benefit television?

Anyway let's not focus on the negative, isn't that what sports psychologists say? But the only positive in an early start is that we're less likely to be subjected to as much Welsh singing, although I wouldn't bank on it. They seem capable of breaking into song at anytime and without warning. Bread of Heaven my backside! Unless it's sung by Barbie look-a-like Katherine Jenkins at 3am and the chance of a "duet" looks like it might present itself.

Warren Gatland and Shaun Edwards may have brought a fresh approach and a no-nonsense discipline to the Valleys, but throughout the ages the Welsh invariably get the heebie jeebies as a supposed new dawn was breaking, as demonstrated by their three losses and one draw (at home to Italy) in 2006, the year after their Grand Slam triumph. In fact the tiniest morsel of success, ie a win, and the Welsh go bananas. Even Eddie Butler is at it now by attempting to talk up the threat Gavin Henson poses to Brian O'Driscoll.

How can one even discuss Gav without mentioning the gruaig? He bears an uncanny resemblance to a reluctant paricipant/victim of a make-over from The Afternoon Show and I don't mean one of the presenters. I'm not sure yet whether he looks more like the "before" or "after" photo.

There's also a touch of The Human League in there which is ironic as that's the species with which he seems least comfortable. Put the gel back in Gav, put the gel back in.

The kind of criticism levelled at O'Driscoll from "experts" recently is extraordinary. At the corresponding fixture four years ago he came armed with dash, swagger and, shall we say, the peroxide streaks of youth. Sure why wouldn't he?

In between bouts of belching, the Welsh fans behind me were straining their collective larynx: "This is a man's game blondey, give it up boyo!" Within the space of about 10 minutes he had annihilated Sonny Parker, won a penalty and scored a try.

Eddie Butler believes O'Driscoll's form has been "dreadful for some time". I'm not sure how long "some time" is in Wales, but he was the only Irish player to make any impact on the World Cup and without him we would've been utterly devoid of ideas in attack and arguably wouldn't have even scored against Argentina.

If he hasn't been on fire lately he still consistently produces moments of magic that other players just wouldn't or couldn't attempt.

Either way comparing him to Henson is like comparing gratin dauphinoise in Gibaulds to frozen chips in Tescos. Think Eddie B may well be conveying utterances from his nether regions. Well I suppose it makes a change from Eddie O.

The latest episode in Ireland's fullback saga starring Eddie O, G Dempsey and G Murphy drags on like an episode of Fair City that doesn't know how to conclude. Do we leave the audience guessing? Or will we just have to kill one of them off?

There's so much riding on Eddie O making the right call he may well be forced into the following.

Irish rugby team hotel 4.33am

EOS (Alone. Takes a long look in the mirror): "What the hell am I going to do? If I pick Girv they're gonna say I should've gone with Geordan and if I start Geordan they're gonna - oh Jeez, this is a nightmare scenario.

G Dempsey and G Murphy knock on Eddie's door.

EOS: "Oh howya lads, come on in, sit down. Thanks for coming, I know it's early, but I wanted to do this in private, do it right you know? How ya feelin?"

G Murphy: "Perfect. Never better."

G Dempsey: "Me too. I'm perfect too."

EOS: Okay lads, well look I won't nip around the bush, there's no point in waiting for the cake to come out of the oven when we've got a fresh one in front of us."

G Murphy: "I'm not hungry thanks. Anyway we're not supposed to eat c. . ."

EOS: "Shut your hole for a sec Geordan will you!? What're you on about?"

G Murphy: "Well actually I was just wondering what you m. . . "

EOS: "Don't interrupt now. I've made a decision about Saturday and Geordan you're not going to like it."

G Murphy: "Ah for f. . . "

G Dempsey: Yeeeeeeeeessssssss!!!

EOS: "Neither are you Girvan. I'm picking Rob at fullback and Shane on the wing."

G Murphy/G Dempsey: "But we're both fine, well I am anyway."

EOS: "We'll be telling the press you're both injured. It's my only hope of surviving if we lose."

Cue music. End of episode. Tune in next week and watch EOS go insane as ROG picks up injury in training.