The Ireland-England rivalry runs deep in any sport, indeed in any walk of life. The Irish Sea seems like it will forever be the no man’s land between home and enemy lines. Even as the times are a changin', the waves crash just as ferociously.
These days Felix Jones has thrown his hat in the ring with Steve Borthwick and co. There was a time when it wouldn’t have happened, couldn’t have happened, but on Saturday there will be a Killiney man plotting the downfall of the greatest Irish side there’s ever been.
The fact there was Grand Slam talk on a February Friday night in Marseille says a lot about this Ireland team. It’s only snowballed since, which says all the more.
France away was supposed to be the ultimate test. It never panned out that way, courtesy of one side’s brilliance and another’s collapse.
And now comes an historically unforeseeable trip to Twickenham where Paddy Irishman and Paddy Englishman alike can see nothing but an away win. The confidence isn’t even misplaced, and yet it brings a level of discomfort.
Ronan O’Gara was there in Croke Park in 2007. He was there in the bad times too, of which, lest we forget, there were plenty.
It all leaves him well positioned to comment on the status of one of the world’s most intricate forms of interdependent hatred. When the question was posed back in April 2022, it could well have been laughed off, but BT asked it anyway.
Would perhaps the most iconic Irish rugby star of all time take on the hotseat with the side he was born to detest? Would you do a Judas, Ronan?
Is the Pope a Catholic? Does a bear s*** in the woods?
Well, apparently not all of the time:
“Yeah, what a team. There’s so much potential there. There are serious rugby players and a serious passion for the game in England. It’s a cracking job, you’d love to have a go off that.”
In an effort to perhaps pull the knife out of Irish backs, some clarification came on Newstalk’s airways, but not a U-turn:
“Probably from a distance, people fail to understand or appreciate how I’m wired. But we’re in a professional game.”
In the post World Cup nothingness, an old Munster teammate got in there before the Stade Rochelais head coach as part of the Red Rose crew.
The making of Felix Jones
His defence system is an art, wonderfully chaotic, risky, and a little all over the shop when it doesn’t work. Quite the opposite of his own casual demeanour.
Ireland’s only ever Rugby World Cup medallist now has two and still he’s ravenously ambitious on a quest for self-fulfilment.
One which could outlast time itself, or a cricket match, whichever is longer…
Jones was never fortunate enough to grace the world stage as a player, firstly through injury, and then the cruel selection process under Joe Schmidt in 2015.
That England match in 2007 came too soon for him too. Jones’ Road, the irony.
With Munster claiming a second Heineken Cup a year later, the club scene in Ireland remained vibrant as the national team stalled after a disastrous World Cup.
After the exit of O’Sullivan, an Irish Grand Slam under one of Munster’s own in the shape of Declan Kidney could well have cemented Munster’s status as top dogs on the Emerald Isle.
Instead, little did they know that was to be the end.
Just a few weeks after an unprecedented Six Nations’ success, Leinster hammered Munster 25-6 in the Heineken Cup semi-final. Soon came their own European dominance.
A rivalry that had always existed was now irreversible.
Meanwhile, having won an U-20 Grand Slam with Keith Earls, Seán O’Brien, and others two years prior to Ireland’s senior equivalent, Felix Jones was a great white hope of sorts, making his Leinster debut at a tender age. Yes, Leinster.
You can imagine then how popular a young Jones’ decision was to move south in that very same summer of 2009.
But in a playing career where he recovered from a broken neck to make 13 Ireland appearances, and an immediate coaching career where he turned down a contract extension at his beloved Munster, it has never been about doing the easy thing for Felix Jones.
Perhaps that’s how he found himself drafted in by Rassie Erasmus a month before the World Cup in 2019 when Swys de Bruin stood down for medical reasons.
23 September 2023; South Africa assistant coach Felix Jones signals to the pitch during the 2023 Rugby World Cup Pool B match between South Africa and Ireland at Stade de France in Paris, France. Photo by Ramsey Cardy/Sportsfile
It’s no coincidence that a 36-year-old was employed by a side regarded as the toughest in rugby and perhaps the most physically imposing team in world sport.
The Springboks have an incredibly proud heritage. It takes a truly special human being to gain any level of popularity as an outsider, never mind trust and full-term employment.
Such is Jones’ ability to avoid the media, The Telegraph’s Charlie Morgan wrote of his “air of espionage”.
And Jones has a bit of that Rassie Erasmus madness in him too. He wouldn’t have been there otherwise.
A psychologist, a tactician, a manipulator of sorts. 2019 winner Francois Louw recognised instantly his obsession with detail, but also weakness, a word so commonly used in South African rugby circles:
“A large part of his role was analysing the opposition and looking for weaknesses to exploit – kinks in individuals’ games, what makes them tick and how you rock the boat.
“He wasn’t coming from a pedestal position where he was dictating. He actively sought to engage and that gave him an edge with that buy-in from the guys.”
Much like O’Gara, it’s been a road less travelled. Much like O’Gara, we, the people, probably don’t understand how he’s “wired”. We probably never will.
But you can still stand back and appreciate.
Even if it’s now with England, against Ireland, in the very same The Six Nations.
Like Leinster and Munster, you only choose one. Unless you’re Felix Jones.
There may be no human on this planet that is better placed to displace Ireland from their Grand Slam pedestal. You can be sure there was a note or two taken during South Africa’s defeat to Ireland in Paris.
It’s been quite the journey for Felix Jones. Even in a bunch of blood-thirsty Saffas, he was never out of his depth. In fact, he may well have been the toughest of the lot.
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Love thy neighbour and all of that.
For Felix Jones is the advocate and the evidence for the road less travelled.
