A weekly look at the game's other talking points
I've never been a huge fan of the New Zealand haka, believing it to be an indulgence too far.
Sorry, I know this makes me a bad person. All teams have their anthems before any presentation and what with the almost obligatory moments of silence that is surely enough as 23 highly strung athletes shuffle from foot to foot in the freezing cold or rain, or indeed boiling heat.
At various times in its history the haka also morphed into a massive OTT Hollywood production but of course the money shot all their sponsors demand. Ridiculous protocols came into play stipulating where and how supplicant opposition must stand while receiving multiple throat slitting insults and they were damned equally if they tried to smile or make a face or stooped down to throw a straw to the wind as Brian O'Driscoll had been instructed to do by Maori elders before the first Lions Test in 2005.
But there is always one exception to prove every rule, personal or otherwise – and that sprung to mind this week as we contemplate the welcome return of midweek touring games with Munster playing South Africa A at Thomond. God we've missed big midweek matches in the autumn, they brought so much to the table.
I am talking about the glorious Munster haka and the most authentic New Zealand haka I have witnessed when the two sides met at the official opening of the new Thomond on Tuesday November 18 2008, a game and rugby occasion for the ages. To set the scene a little. Ireland, having lost to New Zealand the previous Saturday were preparing to play Argentina so Munster were missing eight or nine of their big names and it was a New Zealand Second XV at best although it mattered not a jot. This was a clash of two great rugby cultures – 30 years on from Munster's win of 1978 – and the atmosphere was full on 48 hours before kick off when I flew in. Not a room to be had, 20-minute queues to get served a pint, Limerick was en fete, going completely bonkers.
I had arrived early to take in a unique scene setter on the Sunday night when there was a special staging of John Breen's West End hit Alone it Stands at the Limerick Millennium theatre – in front of the entire 40-strong New Zealand tour party who had driven across from Dublin that afternoon to attend.
Very dangerous ground this I mused. A high spirited troupe of Irish thespians enacting, some with dodgy Kiwi accents, New Zealand's most famous defeat in front of the All Blacks themselves. It's a credit to Breen's wondrous and nuanced play, which in its own way is also an homage to New Zealand rugby as well as Munster, that the guests seemed to take it in good humour.
The only time it got a little tense was when they depicted the New Zealand team doing their haka back in 1978 but turned to face the modern day incarnations in the audience as they did it. One of the troupe, Sean Duggan, admitted to me later it was the scariest moment of his acting career. In the bars afterwards the 1978 game was being replayed 100 times in people's minds while the match on Tuesday night was previewed ad infinitum. The main talking point though was would Munster produce their own haka to mark the occasion. Would they dare? Would World Rugby even allow it?
Amid their ranks Munster had three Kiwis: All Black legend Doug Howlett who had quickly become a Thomond favourite on the wing, centre Rua Tipoki a noted Maori elder back home, and utility back Jeremy Manning while Tongan centre Lifeimi Mafi had spent most of his formative years in New Zealand and was well versed in all things haka. Tipoki was the key man, the man who could give gravitas and legitimacy to any Munster haka and ensure it wasn't just a lark. A man who the All Blacks would accept the haka from. Munster mulled it over. If they did do a haka they quickly decided it should just be the New Zealand quartet, other Irish team members trying to join in a hastily practiced routine would look ridiculous.
With Tipoki at the helm they devised a basic haka, and the quartet practised it once or twice but, right up until the final moment, he was undecided whether to proceed. The stadium opening was a massive occasion and he was keen not to ruin the occasion with some kind of diplomatic incident. The mood had to be right.
It was. Munster initially gathered in a close knit straight line seemingly to accept the NZ haka and there was an audible murmur of disappointment in the 26,000 crowd but then, with perfect theatrical timing, Tipoki made his call. Look at the footage and you will see a pumped up Howlett looking over not once, not twice, but three times to his right down the line to take his cue from Tipoki. After the third glance, Tipoki took two purposeful steps forward and was joined in an instant by the other three.
The crowd went mental, a huge tidal wave of energy washed around the stadium bouncing from stand to stand, ending with the roar of all roars when they completed their challenge.
All eyes on New Zealand and there was more magic to come. It was a cold dank night, the sort of evening you could stand on one bank of the Shannon and clearly hear people talking quietly on the far bank nearly a mile away. The acoustics were eerily perfect and the Thomond crowd recognised this and by unspoken mutual agreement decreed absolute silence for New Zealand's reply. Not the cacophony of boos and jeers that has accompanied it for most away matches in modern history.
It was a belter, this one was for real. Captain for the night Piri Weepu might have had his limitations as a scrumhalf but was unquestionably the best Kaita – haka leader – in All Black history and he gave it the full monty. No need for any microphones or technological wizardry, his frenzied almost demonic voice boomed around Thomond.
After that, the match was always going to be epic and if 80 minutes of relentless combat, huge collisions and tension is your thing, this was the match for you. It might have lacked the cutting edge of skill some find necessary for a classic but as a contest it was quite remarkable and fitting of the occasion.
For a long time, another historic miracle Munster win seemed possible until with three minutes remaining Joe Rokocoko, left, scored to make it 18-16 to the visitors. When the final whistle went, the roar of appreciation could not have been any louder had Munster won. Talk to any of those involved, on either side, and their faces automatically light up when you mention this game. Midweek rugby.
