One Step Beyond ……

Would you rather be a big fish in a little pool or would you choose the more challenging and daring alternative? Personally I’d opt for the latter - I’d much prefer to be a tiddler in a bigger lake, swimming with the larger fish. Granted such aspirations may come at a cost: you might just get eaten up, but I still believe it’s a price that’s worth paying. No matter what field you’re in, be it rugby or business, if you aspire to be the best, you have to be prepared to test yourself at the highest level. To do otherwise is self-defeating: there’s simply no point in going over old ground and replicating successes you already know you’re capable of achieving. You have to set yourself challenges and strive for bigger and better things. Otherwise that little pool you lord over gets stagnant.

Sale have established themselves as a team with genuine Premiership credentials and are more than capable of holding their own in any secondary European competition. But if you want to be up there with the big boys of Heineken Cup rugby, you have to be prepared to trade punches with the best. Against the odds and many expectations Sale despatched the T14 runners up, Clermont Auvergne, with a dazzling display of scintillating and clinical rugby. Confidence was understandably high on the back of this victory, especially as Sale had already turned over the Irish once before at Edgeley. Granted this was at a time when Munster hadn’t been ‘Chabaled’ before and there was the small matter that O’Connell wasn’t fit, but you take what you’re given.

Munster, on the other hand came to Edgeley Park on the back of a workmanlike, yet unconvincing victory over Montauban at Thomond Park. It might not have been pretty, nor convincing, but it was a victory none the less. That’s the thing about Munster - even when they don’t play well, they still have the ability to grind out a result. They simply refuse to be beaten and are prepared to do whatever it takes to achieve this end. Having suffered at and learned from the hands of the masters of the dark arts, Leicester Tigers, Munster will use every trick in the book to get the result they want. That’s not a criticism by the way, if anything that’s the type of winning mentality I applaud. In fact, I look forward to the day when I can say that my own team have enough nous and experience on the biggest stage to do this. That’s why Munster are the double Heineken Cup Champions. They don’t come any bigger or meaner than Munster. If you can perform against this lot, then you know you’ve come of age.

For the first 5 minutes things looked promising: an expectant home crowd hoped for a continuation of the dominant form from Clermont. McAlister lofted up the high swirling kick and Chabal and Jonesy gave chase. Munster scrambled possession at the base of the resultant ruck and O’Leary launched the ball out on the full. Briggsy found Abraham from the line out and Peel fed the ball through to Chabal on the crashball. He was eventually brought to ground by Wallace but Quinlan was pinged at the ruck for going off his feet. Most supporters expected McAlister to slot over the penalty, but unfortunately it drifted wide.

The momentum continued to be with Sale though. Savage counter-rucking saw the ball pop out on the Sale side. Jonesy took the ball forward and into contact. O’Sullivan was pulled up by referee Berdos for not rolling away from the tackle. McAlister put the previous miss behind him and slotted over comfortably – normal service resumed then. Sale could in fact have inflicted more telling damage had the final ball been more accurate. Strangely Munster looked quite hesitant in the opening stages. An early foray into Sharks territory ended abruptly as Horan fumbled Mafi’s pass. Chabal hoofed the ball up field and gave chase. Dowling was the first to react to the threat but knocked on in the process when he felt Seabass breathing down his neck. The attacking 5 metre scrum was all set up for a sniping 9 like Peel as Munster were held back the full 5 metres from the base by the ref. Sadly the pass from Corcho was at boot level and Peel couldn’t collect.

Wallace took possession of the ball at the base of the Munster scrum and does what he does best, breaking Wiggy’s feeble tackle and getting Munster on the front foot. From there on, the momentum of the game changed. The Irishmen posed more and more of a threat offensively with Mafi, Earls, Warwick and Howlett causing particular problems. Everyone knows what a fine full back Howlett is and how effective he can be on the wing, but defensively he never seemed to be used by the All Blacks to such great effect. Whenever Sale threatened, he made sure that the ball never got out wide to Doherty either by pressing the space, or by making sure Lamont had no other option than to bring the ball back inside on the fewer and fewer occasions that Sale managed to get into the Munster half.

With the wind in their sails, Munster began to threaten from all over the park. O’Gara’s clever tactical kicking stretched Sale’s defensive cover. Both Mafi and Earls began to run some great lines and these, in combination with the decoy darts by Warwick pulled Sale out of position. You sensed it was only a matter of time before Munster got on the score sheet in spite of resolute Sale defence. O’Gara levelled the scores after Chabal was penalised for impersonating Superman and flying over the top of the ruck, following Doherty’s long clearance which caught the wind and ran dead.  Worse was to come. Munster pressure from the line out created an opening for Earls. He broke the gainline but couldn’t escape the clutches of Cockbain. Wiggy cleared to touch and Flannery gifted possession back to the home side when his throw in wasn’t straight.

It looked like the threat was over, but eagle-eyed Monsieur Berdos spotted the crooked Peel feed to the Sale scrum. Before you could blink O’Leary had the ball out on the wing and Mafi and Earls were causing havoc in the Sale 22; a drop of the shoulder and a lovely floated pass to O’Gara created the fraction of space that Munster needed to break the Sale defence. That’s what they’d been probing for and when it came it was taken well. O’Gara delayed his pass and forced Abraham’s hand, offloading the ball just as he tackled to Quinlan. Cueto was caught in no man’s land and could only stand and stare as Quinlan popped the ball over his head to the advancing Warwick who touched down in the corner. It was a superbly worked score and only just deserts really for a period of extended pressure. O’Gara converted and Warwick quickly rubbed salt into the wound with an audacious drop goal.

A promising Sale attack from a bullocking Chabal charge with back up from Lobbe stuttered to a halt after Jonesy fumbled the ball in Munster’s 22. Earls counter-attacked and chipped the ball down the flank into the space behind Cueto. The retreating winger managed to get to the ball and back onto his feet, but Wiggy couldn’t find touch with his clearance. Unfortunately it went straight to Warwick who ran the ball back slightly in field and dropped a lovely long range running goal. It was a superb strike and astonishingly he nearly did it again minutes later. That attempt drifted just wide but both Lamont and Cueto were guilty of ball watching, almost allowing the predatory Howlett in for another poacher’s try.
 
Sale continued on the back foot for most of the rest of the half, with only a McAlister penalty to show for their efforts after Quinlan had gone off his feet after a quick tap by Peel. Munster continued to crank up the pressure and demonstrated as if we needed reminding why they’re such a top team. Wave after wave of relentless attacks rained down towards the Cheadle End, but somehow, through a mixture of skill, determination, last ditch defending and the odd bit of luck, Munster couldn’t break through again before the break. Even when Munster managed to win one against the head, Sale showed that they were not going to lie down without a fight. Any threat from the resulting 5 metre Munster attacking scrum was quashed when Faure got his body underneath Hayes and forced him to stand up.

Sale did, I’m glad to say, end the half with a bit more of a flourish after a lovely jinking break from McAlister. He managed to squeeze through the gap between Flannery and Horan and deftly offload backhanded to Briggsy who was up in support of him. He was snagged eventually by the irrepressible Wallace but not before the ball was recycled and fed back to Seabass on the crashball. Now you see him – now you don’t: one minute he was there and the next he’d been creamed by Mafi. Chabal left the field at the break looking a little rattled; then again you suspected that was the way most of the team probably felt: they’d been in one hell of a battle and were no doubt surprised that they were still in with a shout in spite of the relentless pressure.

When the changes were made after the break, the sense of relief felt around a packed Edgeley Park was palpable. Wiggy had done a fine job in Clermont standing in at stand off, but in truth I’m sure he’d be the first to admit that he’s not a natural 10 and that his kicking out of hand isn’t quite up to Charlie’s standard. In fact, in fairness to all concerned most of the damage last week was inflicted after normal service was resumed. Charlie for all his detractors can change a game and put the opposition on the back foot as he reads a game so well and moves the point of attack around.

Within minutes of him coming on Munster were on the back foot as his clever kicking turned them inside out and his ability to play flat drew on the Munster midfield creating space for McAlister who looked far more lively and threatening at inside centre. Although Munster increased their lead following a sloppy penalty after Keil had drifted into an offside position as Charlie lofted a bomb, the impetus was with the Sharks for the first 20 minutes. Clever inter-passing between Charlie and McAlister allowed Cueto and Lamont to get more of a foothold in the game and make more of an impact.

A quick pass out of a midfield ruck on the flank in Munster’s 22 was fed out to Hodgson. His lovely flighted pass found McAlister who approached at speed and winged the ball out to Cueto on the flank. 18 months ago he probably would’ve backed himself and his speed and taken Warwick on, but he opted to chip and chase and the ball bounced menacingly into touch just beyond the 5 metre line. The threat was definitely there, but the execution just wasn’t quite on the money. Not yet anyway. Munster began to get a taste of the medicine that Sale had received earlier and the pressure started to tell. Mafi upended young Marc Jones, the replacement hooker, during another Sale surge. The crowd bellowed ‘spear tackle’: it wasn’t as he clearly let him drop out of contact and certainly didn’t drive him into the ground. Was it a penalty? The jury’s out on that one. What it did signify was that Munster were rattled. McAlister floated the penalty from the wide flank through the uprights and suddenly it was game on.

Another Cueto break from a quick looped pass from Hodgson minutes later led to the build up for the try that was certainly coming and undoubtedly deserved. Cueto hit the gas and skinned 2 Munstermen before passing back in field to Corcho. The captain couldn’t take clean ball, but possession regained after an infringement at the ensuing ruck. Was Cuets’ pass forward? Well, it looked that way, but the guy with the whistle makes the calls and some you win, some you loose: perhaps it went some way to making up for the earlier obstructions and pulling back that he also missed, particularly at the line outs when spaces miraculously appeared from out of nowhere.

Wiggy spun out a quick pass to Charlie: he swapped reverse passes with Mac and that let Rory through as he straightened his run and cut back inside. Another quick ball from Wiggy was taken at a superb angle by Marc Jones and he crashed forward breaking the gainline. Although he was eventually hauled down by Wallace, yet again, he did manage to pop the ball up to Schoey. A bit of a hoof off the shin and some juggling and bob’s your uncle – try by the posts. McAlister converted and it was really game on then.

It’s at this point that a long European pedigree comes in useful. Sure Sale have many players who’ve played internationally at the highest level, but Munster have been here before in this competition. Not only have they seen and bought the t-shirt, they’ve redesigned it. They don’t panic when the pressure’s on and neither do they go out gung ho looking for the scent of blood. They play within themselves whilst cranking up the pressure and wait for the opportunities to come along as they know they will. Sale if anything tried to force the issue: yes they were on a roll and the force was with them, but if you try to make things happen too quickly, you’re liable to either make the occasional mistake or lose sight of the bigger picture. Sale desperately wanted the win, but what they couldn’t afford to do was lose and not even take a bonus point for their troubles.

Minutes later Sale turned over a speculative punt up field. Somehow it came out on the Munster side through the mass of bodies lying on the floor. How? Well, I could probably guess, but like I said that’s what the Irish boys are good at and they don’t get caught. O’Gara punted the ball downfield for Howlett to chase. The only thing standing between him and a certain try was Schoey who was chasing the ball hell for leather. He managed to get down to it first but was immediately pounced upon by Howlett then Wallace. He wasn’t allowed to get to his feet, so you would’ve expected the penalty to be about to go the home side, but the referee thought otherwise and penalised him for holding on. O’Gara’s kick hit the outside of the top of the uprights and bounced out. Well that’s how it looked from where I was sat. At the other end that apparently was not the case. Maybe that was divine justice after all, yet it simply served to make Munster play with increased fervour.

What happened next you could almost have guessed, if not the exact method, well, at the very least the outcome. Sale made a silly error and it cost us dearly. I’d hoped, along with my fellow travellers down at the Liberty stadium a few seasons ago, that we learned the harsh lessons of European rugby – i.e. if you’re beaten by the better side, then fair enough, but don’t put the chances on a plate. Make the other team work for opportunities and protect what you have at any cost. A relatively harmless chip through from Howlett offered no real threatening opportunities, but with the Munster line coming up field at speed what was obvious is that a quick throw in was suicidal. Rory’s ball to Charlie gave no chance to launch the pill anywhere and he was scragged by Quinlan as soon as he caught it.

Although it took several phases of play to finally get the ball over the line, it was obvious that it was coming. There was intent about Munster and they can’t have failed to notice that Jonah had dropped off onto the wing after picking up a knock. You just knew that’s where the ball was heading. Even though 3 Sale players were covering 3 attackers, if one of them’s injured, you’ve had it. O’Leary whipped the ball out to Mafi. Jonah couldn’t attempt the hit and McAlister wasn’t across quickly enough to cover for him. Mafi showed a lovely touch and offloaded to Wallace and Wiggy’s tackle was brushed aside. O’Gara may have missed the conversion, but it was advantage Munster once again.

The last 10 minutes were as high octane as you’re likely to see in this competition, but in spite of all the intent, it was the Irish boys who were calling the tune. Even with Mafi off in the bin for a tackle that deserved a yellow, Munster still held firm. O’Gara’s drop goal rubbed further salt in the wound and just went to prove how ruthless a team these Munster men are. They will give you absolutely nothing if they can, especially if they think you might be a challenger. Tait almost stole in on the flank for a try that would’ve brought Sale back into bonus point range, but he was held up. Wiggy’s desperate little dart for the line was similarly dealt with, this time by the foot of O’Connell that held the ball up. Even an attempt to run the ball from deep within the Sale half was ended abruptly by Howlett, who’d raced 30 yards just to nip Doherty’s chances in the bud before he even got a chance to start to think he had a chance. That’s the kind of mindset and resolution that makes a European Champion – that's what Sale will have to strive for if they’re ever to lift the big one. You work as a team, you never surrender and you certainly never make it easy for anybody.

So, a very disappointing day was had if you support Sale Sharks. What had promised to be an historic day, proved to be a bit of a downer. Yet strangely, I wasn’t as gutted as I thought I would’ve been. Why, you might ask? I can’t really answer that because the thing is, I’m not sure myself. It may be simply that the better team won: of that there’s no question. It might even be that I still hold out some hope that the fat lady’s not warbled her vocal chords on this one yet. (I know, that’s unlikely as it’s no longer in our own hands and we have to rely on others). It could be that I just feel that we’re not quite ready for that level of competition yet, perhaps it’s one step beyond us at the moment: I’m sure if we carry on like this then one day we may be – just not yet.

I guess the bottom line is that I’m just proud of the team and the way they threw themselves into it wholeheartedly. On another day, if we’d started the game with the players we eventually finished with, maybe we might just have pulled it off. Had Charlie played from the start, who knows what might’ve happened? The only thing you can be sure of is that, in spite of any what ifs or maybes, Munster have sufficient mileage on the clock to probably scupper that one too. Is there anything they haven’t had to deal with? Probably not, but don’t spoil my dream just yet.


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