Keano's role in Munsters Heineken Cup roll
From this mornings Independent:
Munster lock Paul O'Connell believes destiny has nothing to do with Munster's chances of winning the Heineken Cup
IT was in those first few moments after the final whistle had blown that the reality had sunk in. It had been a momentous day in Lansdowne Road when a grim, bloody-minded effort by men in red had swept away weeks of idle chat and blather about the clash of cultures.
Munster had diced and sliced their Leinster rivals. It wasn't the first time. Only the 35th, in fact, from 127 attempts. Still a road to go.
The 35th win was sweet, securing as it did a Heineken Cup final berth. It wasn't their first time. Munster were twice before smitten at the final hurdle.
Fate, seemingly, has now deigned that they must win next Saturday, in what has become an increasingly dangerous perception. As Van the Man once wailed when he was looking for his spiritual Holy Grail, "It ain't why, why, why. It just is."
Cue O'Connell to rudely interrupt the whimsical day-dreaming. "It's never your season and it's no-one's destiny to win it," he said in the immediate aftermath of the semi-final.
"The final is a great opportunity for us but it's not our destiny - the best team will win.
"If we lose we come back next year, if we win we will come back next year and try to retain the title. There's no destiny in these things - it's about producing the goods." Yikes!
Minutes later, captain Anthony Foley pierces a press tent billowing with optimism. "It's no one's destiny to win it. It's the best team on the day in the final and that's it." Gulp!
Jerry Flannery. Surely this doe-eyed freshman, promised to deliver the words which would cheerily raise their hemline in the direction of the headline-writers?
"We've won nothing yet. Just because we've been to a couple of finals and lost doesn't mean we have a divine right to win it." Ye Gods!
Yet we shouldn't be surprised. This is the Munster way. Action, not words, predominate their professional lives. When words are used, they are deployed sparingly and with an economy and a directness which personifies their playing style. No nonsense. Sounds like someone else we know.
The night before Munster opened their Heineken Cup campaign, when a defeat to Sale would initiate another typically nail-biting and rollercoaster qualifying campaign, the team were granted a visit from one of their collective sporting heroes. Roy Keane.
"It wasn't a motivational speech as such," recalls O'Connell of that October meeting of sharp minds.
"He just leaned up against the physio bed and we asked him all sorts, about players and different things. It was more a bit of a chat. He wasn't there to spur us on particularly."
Trying to stay off message, with a huge game against the much-hyped English league leaders less than 24 hours away, the Munster squad were as one giddy teenagers and impressionistic sponges, eager for enlightenment.
"I remember him talking about the way he became obsessive in his later career," adds O'Connell. "The nutritionist at Manchester United was saying to him that red meat was bad for you, so he completely gave it up. But two weeks after that, he had a problem with low iron levels.
"He was just making the point that sometimes he'd be too compulsive, I remember that was something that stuck out in my mind. But he was very honest in his appraisal of other players, guys he highly rates as people and players. For a guy who's supposed to be so critical all the time there's people he has a lot of respect for."
Although Keane had made a point of following Munster whenever the opportunity presented itself, notably when he and John O'Shea changed their schedules to attend the epic semi-final against Wasps two years ago in Lansdowne Road, the player didn't betray too much of his fandom.
"I don't remember him talking too much about Munster at the time," says O'Connell.
Keane's presence was, however, a clear illustration that some symbiosis did exist. Like Munster, Keane embodies that ultra-modern sporting psyche which rejects second-best, the 'give-it-a-lash' philosophy, the inability to wallow in the journey's high spots, instead only concentrating on the ultimate glory in reaching the destination.
"For an Irish guy in a pro team sport, he's the one we all look at," says O'Connell. "All the guys in the Munster team are massive Roy Keane fans. We're not so blinded that we think he can do no wrong but we're huge admirers of him.
"Because he doesn't have old Irish attitude of things. He's so professional, driven, competitive. He's won so many things and changed the attitude of the stereotypical Irish sportsperson with his honesty and commitment and dedication. It's something we all try to draw parallels from in our own way of going about things.
"I think we've had that good an attitude for a long time. Maybe the first time the lads reached the final, we were a little overawed, I know David Wallace said over the weekend that the occasion got the better of them.
"But we've always been driven. We've needed to learn things to get the extra edge, sharing with Roy Keane his brutal honesty and his willingness to always learn. But we also learn from different athletes. We've all read Lance Armstrong and Muhammad Ali."
In mitigation, the Irish rugby team have also abandoned the erstwhile philosophy which was a debilitating hangover from the amateur days when momentous wins against leading nations were perceived as a stepping stone-to a night on the beer.
Another Munster man, Keith Wood, forged that attitude in conjunction with Eddie O'Sullivan; the bald dynamo enforcing O'Sullivan's credo in the manner in which Keane married his persona with the equally driven Alex Ferguson.
"You hear of Roy Keane and what he's achieved. Woody was doing it when I first came in to the team in a way I couldn't believe coming from my amateur days," adds O'Connell. "But that's the key to it, to be criticised by people who respect you is the way forward. It's the only way of improving, by constructive criticism."
O'Connell is not alone within Munster in his admiration for Keane. Captain Foley has been equally eloquent on the subject. "I really admire Roy Keane. I think that he's an inspiration for any Irish sports person with ambition."
O'Connell, such a talismanic figure, has been all too readily transposed as the team's nearest equivalent to the Mayfield maestro. For such a private, modest individual, the comparisons are embarrassing. in the extreme.
"It's just silly," he smiles. "You look at the work-rate of the guys in the pack. Donncha O'Callaghan. Marcus Horan. Jerry Flannery. Anthony Foley. It's a strange one. I suppose in every team they look to see who's the Roy Keane.
"But I think we all are. Personally it's flattering but you just laugh at it and try to get away from it."
How about a team of Roy Keanes? "That sounds better," he agrees. Fifteen men and more in dogged pursuit of perfection. The Keane factor writ large. A different ball game, perhaps. Different personalities, too. But the same ideas at work.
