"He was never without misery, and never without hope." – Joseph Heller in Catch-22.
Cian Healy, the prop called Church, who began as a seemingly indestructible force, has been called back.
“I’ve got the number one jersey for a week. It’s not ‘get it and sit on it.’”
Hope diluted by misery carries him to Rome. From Healy this week came a passive stare, enhanced or perhaps interpreted as dangerous by the humongous body his mind inhabits.
Considering the art of debate is to argue a point passionately, whether you believe it or not, Healy has chosen the right career path. What tempts dissolution of his calm demeanour is the notion that this afternoon's locking of horns will be his first Six Nations start since the championship was captured at Murrayfield – that same ruinous hovel – back in March 2015.
The last Test match of genuine importance he started was at the 2015 World Cup. Despite neck surgery four months previously, this relentless, yet seemingly less dynamic soul usurped the usurper for French and Puma nights of wildly contrasting Cardiff experiences.
On Thursday Joe Schmidt provided basic logic for Jack McGrath's benching. It means both heavies will bank 80 minutes over two matches before the gigantic French tramp onto Dublin sod.
“We know selection comes to the day and we have to accept it but, no, we train to start the whole time,” said Healy. “On both Jack and for my part, it is 100 percent alright.”
Really? McGrath has been the starter for the past 12 major Test matches that matter, while for the most part Healy has been regenerating. Eventually, after enough surgeries, no human could possibly return to such freak levels of athleticism.
Raw power
It's equally impossible to truly understand Healy's plight these past few years. The ultimate loosehead prop, no comparable rugby specimen on this island has there been carved, his raw power snapped the leash age 20, with Marcus Horan making way, just in time, after the 2009 Grand Slam.
A five-year reign followed.
Aged 29 now, to McGrath's budding 27, Healy came to rugby after Olympic power-lifting aspirations at Belvedere College were dissuaded by him having the pace and verve of a centre before the heaviest possible weight the experts decreed his body could handle got heaped upon him.
Injuries eventually followed. Nerve damage in his neck was connected to mangled hand movement, both not long after his hamstring tore clean off the bone (rugby’s most fashionable kryptonite).
The Leinster scrum creaked along just fine without him. McGrath also heaped fat on muscle, becoming a different, less explosive, yet more durable alternative. Tadhg Furlong arrived as an unbridled tighthead this past November to horse over All Blacks in the exact manner that made Healy a national hero in 2013.
As these moments unfolded Healy was forced to sit simmering, trapped in a Catch 22 that would make Yossarian wail; in desperate need of game time to rediscover optimum level but unable to entice precious minutes from the coach until he rediscovered optimum level.
“Yeah, it’s something I’ve missed; being a starter in a lot of games. It’s good to get that. Nice feeling on the back of some good hard training, nice bit of graft.”
Healy had become the 30-minute man for Leinster and Ireland. The cameo prop.
McGrath seemed like a Schmidt favourite, perhaps he still is, but this adjustment for the Stadio Olimpico places those in starting positions on notice. Change will come in defeat, the clear message.
Untrustworthy
Sport is so untrustworthy. Healy and Seánie O'Brien offered a clear narrative in the last Lions year (2013); they were the power surge which would allow Johnny Sexton to dominate in blue and green. Nothing lasts. Especially in this increasingly gladiatorial pursuit. At least a mighty production line now exists in Leinster as the not dissimilar rise of Andrew Porter has begun.
Healy, even amidst that joyous Chicago night, felt the frustration of no longer being the dominant figure of previous seasons, of being reduced to mortal squad player, aware that his body could not even guarantee that. And still he decided to live forever or die in the attempt
“No, even last year when my form was fairly brutal I was still pretty pissed off I wasn’t [starting]. I think it is good to keep that mentality that you should be up there. Keep the same work mentality that got you there. A good combination of both dragged me through.
“It didn’t really help at times when I was playing bad because I was backing myself when I wasn’t capable of it. But that’s the way I went about it and I had to stick to it.”
What can a person do when sanity refuses to offer an escape?
“Yeah, just wasn’t getting enough runs to get fit enough. My skill-set wasn’t in a good enough place. I had to ignore my confidence taking a bit of a knock and just build it up as much as possible.
“It wasn’t until I took a bit of a break towards the end of last season and put in some serious hours of skill work and technical work and rehab stuff to iron everything out so I was where I wanted to be.”
Miracle or madness
He sees time on the training paddock as the “one place where you are fully in control of what you do” and where he can follow his heart’s desire of squeezing, lifting, scrummaging until the body goes limp.
It seemed either miracle or madness that he returned so quickly from neck surgery in 2015.
“They pulled the reins on me for coming back that early,” is a remark delivered with a stubborn smirk. “I wanted to be back quicker. It does go against you but at the same time when you get to the right level it kicks back in again. If you let that slip, that nature, it is a harder thing to get back than fitness. If you’ve lost your desire to be competitive and want to be the best, I’d imagine it is an awful lot harder to get that back than to get fit.”
Cian Healy imagines, yet refuses to find out. All these noises are a pugilist’s prayer. What he loves the most, literally, tears him asunder.
“The neck and nerves are fine. I don’t get any pain. I have really focused on neck weights in rehab so it is stronger than ever. I did extra forearm work, tricep work, because the knock-on effect of that is you lose bulk of the muscle and have to work on that to build it back up.”
The number one jersey might only be his for one week, but it is earned. Devastatingly so.
