Muhammad Ali once said: “I am the greatest. I said that even before I knew I was.”
It’s the kind of quote we don’t usually associate with Northern Hemisphere rugby players or teams. However, in my experience in playing against the Southern Hemisphere nations, it is practically doctrine. Assuming a mantle of confidence is a prerequisite for players to walk out on the paddock.
The Sharks won against a valiant Munster in last weekend’s United Rugby Championship (URC) quarter-final, but the match will be remembered not just for the scoreboard. Jaden Hendrikse caused quite the sideshow by distracting Jack Crowley in the shootout with a convenient cramp just beside where the Munster outhalf was about to kick at goal.
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Whatever about having cramp or no cramp, the effort or lack of it to get out of an opponent’s way, the home crowd booing a dead-ball kick and coaches roaming the pitch all aligned to the same purpose. It was textbook “shithousery” and there was nothing accidental about it. It is celebrated and almost expected. The head coach made that clear post-match, that the ends justified the means.
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That unapologetic, win-at-all-costs mentality is woven into the DNA of South African rugby along with the assumed confidence. And to be fair, it is effective. They believe they will win before the warm-up, before the anthem and before a pass is thrown. Everything they do, legal or questionable, is in service of that belief.
Leinster, under South African defence coach Jacques Nienaber, will have tried to adopt some of that Springbok edge and mindset over the last two seasons, especially in defence. Suffocating the opposition and relentless in the scramble they may be, but the question is whether Leinster have the same raw ingredients, physically or mentally, to deliver the same results.
Leinster are not South Africa and they don’t need to be. What traditionally made them a special team was their controlled expression and ruthless execution. A culture of excellence that didn’t require verbal dominance or dark arts, it was a quieter confidence. They didn’t need to tell you they were good; they showed you.
There is a legitimate question now about the focus on defence. It built a South African empire with back-to-back World Cup wins, but perhaps it comes at the expense of what made Leinster formidable in the first place.
I think there is now a rough template on how to frustrate the way Leinster play
The delicate balance between attack and defence feels out of whack. Adopting the mindset is fine, but mindset - like culture - has to fit the group to which it is applied.
Right now, Leinster may be caught between two rugby identities - the old-school humility and the newly imported aggression. In that scenario, they could miss out on the best of both. They don’t need to become snarling. They need to become certain.
There’s a difference.
Certainty is what you saw in Jack Crowley. Booed, baited, distracted and he still slotted a kick in the shootout with composure that would make a poker player blush. Crowley countered noise with presence.
Irish teams rarely have a squad-wide swagger like South African or Kiwi sides. They usually have one or two players who carry that energy, but it’s not culturally widespread. That’s okay. That’s us. And when it works, it works beautifully.
But conviction can’t be conditional. It can’t depend on being ahead or getting the bounce of the ball. It must be worn. Earned. Chosen. The next week and perhaps the week after will be a measure of that conviction.
Again, Leinster are the last Irish team standing. They have the squad, the game plan and the coaching ticket. But they won their quarter-final unconvincingly, relying on the final quarter to pull away from an edgy Scarlets and with moments in the game that mirrored the way Northampton also made them struggle.
It was Scarlets’ ability to frustrate Leinster’s attack at key junctures that kept them in the game until Leinster unloaded their bench. Eventually, the defence figures out any team.
I think there is now a rough template on how to frustrate the way Leinster play and defend. There is also an understanding of how important Sam Prendergast is in his running of their attacking system.
Leinster feel burdened by the weight of success. Once they lost to Northampton, the holy grail became the URC.
But even for the top teams in this competition, the reality is that nothing is certain. Scarlets played exactly how you would expect in knockout rugby and the same will be expected of Glasgow on Saturday.
In such scenarios, where fear of failure is just around the corner, margins narrow and pressure builds. As I wrote last week, I think the challenge in Leinster is still within their control, but perhaps they need to rediscover some of their old identity, a bit of joie de vivre from playing rugby in both defence and attack. What we have seen over the last while is that over-reliance on defending to win hasn’t worked.
Once upon a time, the mantra wasn’t about a growl or line speed in defence; it was about standards. Fullback Rob Kearney fielding everything under the sun, attacking when the opportunity offered itself, not when the system suggested it would. There was an expectation rather than a demand to clear rucks and standards on both sides of the ball.
Leinster have been nearly-men for too long. But nearly isn’t the metric. Trophies are. And no one gives them away – especially not to teams still trying to remember who they are.
