SOME OF THE young crew would struggle to believe it, that before all the #TeamOfUs and Rog v Humphries and Rog v Johnny and serial defeats of the All Blacks, Ireland was a mediocre rugby nation.
The early 90s were among the fallow years. But what never dimmed was the team’s enthusiasm for slaying Sassenach. The Red Rose could transform men. 1994 was the most explicit form of that rage.
Before we get into that, let’s jump back a few years for context.
In 1990, only a home win against Wales – in their own horrors around this time – spared Ireland the Wooden Spoon in what was the Five Nations.
A year later and a draw with the Welsh was the only point of the campaign for both. Score difference left Wales holding the Wooden Spoon again.
It was only a matter of time really before the dubious honour fell to Ireland, and a clean sweep of losses brought that in 1992.
They lost their two opening matches of the ’93 campaign before a 19-14 win away to Wales. The final game was England at Lansdowne Road. Inspired by Eric Elwood’s kicking and Mick Galwey’s try, they won 17-3 and were chaired off the pitch.
That knowledge, that feeling would sustain that team as they fell to two early losses in 1994, away in Paris and at home to Wales.
By the time they faced England in the third round, they hadn’t scored a try. Only Elwood had scored at all, with five penalties in each game.
Nothing much was expected from Gerry Murphy’s side. Loose-head Nick Popplewell puts it bluntly: “Did we expect to win? No.”
But . . .
“We felt any time you were playing England and they did not have Dean Richards, they were vulnerable. To me, they always needed a talismanic figure and they seemed to struggle.”
They came with one thought and felt they might see where they could go from there.
This was an England team that were at the height of their self-regard. Never has a team been more accurately reflected by their captain in Will Carling.
They would have spent a lot of time licking themselves. Beating New Zealand at the same venue only three months hence didn’t help them in that regard.
It hardly seems fair now, but Ireland eyed up Kyran Bracken. Just 22, he was born in Dublin but left for England when he was a mere four. After showing immense promise and having read Law at college, he put the feelers out for a chance with Ireland.
They knocked him back.
Somehow, though, the Irish players were prepared to swallow it that he turned Ireland down instead. The details weren’t important. It felt good to have a hate-figure to go after. Particularly a young scrum-half.
“We kicked everything at him. We couldn’t give a shit where the ball landed but we aimed a few at him. We gave him a reminder, ‘You’re playing for the wrong team, pal,’” says Popplewell.
Neil Francis, who for many was just too big and cuddly to elicit any genuine fear, went at Bracken as if he had personally shelled the Four Courts himself. Once Francis was all in, the excuses for others not being similarly committed melted away.
Meanwhile, the English-born and Knebworth-raised, clad in green Simon Geoghegan was waiting for a moment like this.
Paddy Johns set up a ruck on the right wing. Michael Bradley stooped for the ball and flung it into play. Eric Elwood drove forward and was assisted by Philip Danaher, before shifting it to Richard Wallace. Along the way, dummy runs helped distort the defence.
Right up to when it landed with Geoghegan. One of the most service-starved wingers Ireland ever had, he was the veteran of five tries and not many more possessions.
But Tony Underwood was murdered for pace and the full-back Jon Callard threw out a meagre fist in an attempt to grab some jersey, to no avail.
Classic try from Simon Geoghegan in Ireland's 13-12 win over England in Twickenham in 1994. pic.twitter.com/LJDfhVDeal
— Murray Kinsella (@Murray_Kinsella) August 22, 2018
It was the ultimate two fingers up to England coach Geoff Cooke who had left him off the Lions Tour of New Zealand in 1993.
As it happened, Popplewell was on that tour along with Mick Galwey, and he felt Geoghegan should have been there too.
“He was the best winger in the world at that stage,” Popplewell says.
“He was quite outspoken, that probably worked against him. He had a frustration that the lads didn’t take the set-up as seriously as he did. And he was on the wing which meant he didn’t get much of the ball because we didn’t get much of the ball.
“So I think for him to get his hands on the ball and score, it was a fantastic try. But he was the ultimate – an athlete among, well, not many athletes.”
Talking of which, the Irish Independent managed to get a famous pic of a bare-chested Popplewell strolling around Twickenham after the whistle, in all his 19 and a half stone glory.
“My wife has that hanging up just to remind me of my athletic prime,” he says.
Later on in the game, the Irish victory was sealed by Geoghegan’s play. A Callard chip pass was collected by Geoghegan who evaded Underwood again and Carling before hoofing downfield. Rob Andrew went to collect but Geoghegan was already all over him.
Ireland were awarded the penalty, and Elwood’s boot sent them home.
After the whistle blew to signal a 13-12 win, the players lingered outside. Then they made their way inside to the six huge baths and grimaced at the sludge already washed off as they puffed cigarettes and drank a couple of cans.
That night, the English Rugby Football Union was hosting at the Hilton on Park Lane. Somehow, the room number of Geoff Cooke was passed around the Irish players, who charged their drink orders down.
“So, that was part of the joys. He woke up with a £10,000 bar bill, but that was factored in I would say,” says Popplewell.
A flash of blonde hair streaking across the pitch to land the only Irish try of the tournament, thirty years ago.
Look how far we’ve come, mamma.
