TV VIEW:TRUE, THE material the makers of RTÉ's Ireland's Grand Slam Journey had to work with was a touch on the sublime side, but still, we've lost count of the number of times such opportunities have been desecrated, a pig's ear made out of a silk purse.
A bit like Paul Anka’s cover version of Mr Brightside. There are men on death row for less.
Even when the material isn’t so spine-tingling – say, a documentary about Accrington Stanley’s pre-season scoreless draw with Dagenham and Redbridge – they still, on the whole, try to make it in to a cross between The Shawshank Redemption and Citizen Kane.
And they almost always use shaky cameras (perhaps not the correct technical term), like they used to do in Hill Street Blues. Remember when you’d be trying to follow a conversation between Captain Furillo and Jesus Martinez and suddenly you’d feel like you were on a ferry to Holyhead in gale force nine winds?
The seasick effect, presumably, is designed to make it all feel gritty and faithful to the story, but if you want gritty and faithful all you have to do is sit John Hayes and his pals on stools and ask them for their thoughts on the Grand Slam, intermingling their chat with footage of the action and a majestically selected soundtrack. And what does that give you? A masterpiece.
And that’s what Irelands Grand Slam Journey was.
This couch knows a 17-year-old who nigh on needed sedating after watching it because it made him feel like those last moments in Cardiff were happening all over again, like he was watching it live, and that this time Stephen Jones’s kick would go over.
Stephen Ferris, Jamie Heaslip and Paul O’Connell evidently felt the same way, one of the programme’s finest moments the scene where we watched them watching Jones ready himself for that kick.
“I thought it was over, yeah, I thought it was gone, definitely,” said O’Connell.
Paddy Wallace, who had conceded the penalty, could, once again, barely look.
“Walking back to the posts after the referee had signalled it was a state of almost shock . . . I’ve been in a car crash before and you get a kind of numbness after the incident, and it was almost something close to that,” he said.
“My views have changed over the summer on this,” chuckled Ronan O’Gara, Wallace’s woe something he experienced himself with the Lions when he gave away that late penalty to South Africa in June.
“I said, ‘How can a fella give away a penalty with two minutes to go in a game?’ . . . Jeez, you couldn’t possibly! My story has changed nicely.” Hayes and Brian O’Driscoll cracked up.
By then O’Gara, not that you need reminding, had put over that drop-kick.
“It was good that he’d get that in, in his last season,” grinned Tommy Bowe, who’d quite enjoyed the section devoted to his try in Cardiff.
“Here we go,” he said, sitting up straight on his stool.
“Ah jeez, don’t get him started,” said Luke Fitzgerald, “he hasn’t stopped since”, Rob Kearney confirming as much when he buried his face in his hands.
Back to Jones. Watching the crowd watching the kick, in slow motion . . . wondrous.
And just to prove, if proof were needed, that we’re all cut from different cloth: some Riverdanced with joy, some collapsed in a heap, and some just bawled.
“I was just relieved, quietly blessed and relieved,” said Wallace.
“I wouldn’t have any words to describe it properly. Sometimes it’s difficult to describe feelings,” said Declan Kidney, as a photo of Jack Kyle floated by over his shoulder.
As marvellous and gorgeous a sports documentary as we’ve ever seen.
Who knows, they might be making one on Séamus Coleman in a few years.
Mind you, those of us who declared Paul McShane to be a fusion of Paul McGrath, Franco Baresi and Franz Beckenbauer after his debut against the Czech Republic a few years ago should probably refrain from hyping young Irish defenders.
Still, the 21-year-old from Killybegs, a Sligo Rovers old boy, made a bit of an impression in his home debut for Everton after coming on at right back in the 15th minute.
Man of the Match, no less.
“He was mustard,” Sky Sport’s Jeff Shreeves told Everton’s Tims, Cahill and Howard, at full-time, but, alas, his puntastic effort went unnoticed by the not-so-keen Australian and American.
“He was sensational, the boy,” said Richard Keys, stopping just short of hailing him as a fusion of Paolo Maldini, Antonio Cabrini and Kevin Kilbane (behave).
Andy Gray agreed, but a little bit later he referred to the Donegal man as “whatshisname”. “Séamus Coleman,” Richard reminded him.
Well, whatever happens next, he’ll remember yesterday.