SIDELINE CUT:Ireland is, as a rule, deeply fond of New Zealand and All Blacks rugby. That is one of the reasons we have never beaten them

IRELAND ALLOWING the All Blacks to beat them at rugby is one of the great international sporting traditions, but it is going to have to come to an end.

The damning statistic that the Irish have never beaten New Zealand in the Gentleman’s Game is often bandied about on weekends like this, when the most celebrated rugby team of them all breeze into town tanned and handsome and utterly unconcerned they might be about to lose. This is Ireland, their smiles suggest. We Haka, You Growl, We Win. Then We All Have A Drink.

And that, broadly speaking, is how things have gone for the last 100 years. But the bare results – played 23, lost 22, drew 1 – do not truly reflect just how delicately poised this rivalry has been. In fact, many All Blacks would privately concede that Ireland have had the upper hand in every sense other than the scoreboard and, if pressed, would admit they secretly envy our rugby culture.

It should be noted that Ireland is, as a rule, deeply fond of New Zealand and All Blacks rugby. That is one of the reasons we have never beaten them. When the All Blacks came here five years ago, they were encouraged to make the long trek to Ramelton in Donegal to visit the ancestral home of Dave Gallaher, captain of the 1905 Originals. Because of the Gallaher connection, Ireland has always felt somehow responsible for the rise and rise of All Blacks rugby. Looking for vaguely Irish surnames on All Blacks team sheets and claiming those heroes as our own twice- or three-times removed was part of the fun.

Even in the worst years, when the men in green could endeavour to go through a season without scoring a try, there was comfort to be taken from the distant feats of splendid All Blacks teams containing men whose great grandmothers might just have been Irish.

Another reason Ireland has failed to beat the All Blacks is that they are considered to be sporting royalty here. The pressure of hosting them is too much. The New Zealanders usually have the Irish beaten by the time the Haka is over. Irish rugby has been famed for producing hot-headed and impulsive figures down the years. The restraint required of men like Keith Wood, Peter Clohessy, Ciarán Fitzgerald and the late great Moss Keane to stand perfectly still and eye-ball the New Zealanders as they performed their dance must have been exhausting.

Little wonder Ireland so often got off to poor starts against the All Blacks: it took every ounce of energy to prevent themselves from whaling after the first kapa o pango.

But the arrival of the All Blacks has always been something special for Irish people. Among those excited by the prospect of the 1963 match in Lansdowne Road was sometime rugby fan Myles na gCopaleen, who reported an unusual invitation in his column.

“When a while ago a panting runner from the Irish Rugby Union burst into the study of my house in Santry, he may have wondered at the venerable figure at the fireside, a thing of shawls and beads showing withal on his skin an unmistakeable Crested Tan. Would I be so good, he stammered, as to referee the match between Ireland and the All Blacks?

“The All Blacks?” I asked. “Is Martin Luther King on the side?”

“You don’t understand, sir. This is a team from New Zealand.”

“New Zealand? Ah-ha. That mister-come-lately outfit.”

The All Blacks won that particular affair by the skin of their teeth, 6-5, thanks mainly to the boot of DB Clarke and the fact the Irish had what can only be described as a near-miss on a try. “The ball bounced back and as S Meades, the number eight, jumped for the catch he was hit by the pursuit,” wrote Paul MacWeeney in Monday’s paper.

“Meads was hurled back over his line and lost possession. Maguire, Ireland’s openside flanker, appeared to get the touch down for a try but the referee, not quite on the spot, was unconvinced and ordered a five yards scrum to New Zealand.”

Even now the question begs to be asked: why was the referee not quite on the spot? Where was he? And how much convincing did he need? This match occurred just a few weeks after Ireland had lost the greatest Irishman of them all: JFK. The likelihood is that the minds of those Irish boys were on Lee Harvey Oswald rather than the Haka in the minutes before that game, but still they pushed the mighty All Blacks to within a point.

It was not the only contentious non-try either. In December of 1935, the Irish were denied what might have been a match-winning try by a bout of flu as much as by All Black resistance. The referee for that encounter was taken ill shortly before the match, leaving Billy Jefferes, later secretary of the IRFU, to step in at late notice. In the second half, Ireland trailed 11-6, having scored its first try against New Zealand courtesy of Sammy Walker. They had the All Blacks on the run, and a glorious push by the Irish pack resulted in captain Jack Siggins hurling himself over the line. For a second, the crowd began to celebrate the magnificent achievement of two tries in one match. But! Billy Jefferes had spotted what may have been a knock-on in the seconds preceding the score. It was a terribly difficult moment for the Irishman, who denied himself the excuse of not being quite on the spot and disallowed the score.

“He gave his decision without a moment’s hesitation,” wrote MacWeeney, “but it went to his heart to have to refuse the reward for a forward push which is still talked about almost thirty years later.”

The Kiwis had survived again. Such narrow escapes established a pattern.

No Irish man would deny the All Blacks have produced incredible players in every position. Take the wing, for instance: Jeff Wilson, Joe Rokocoko, Doug Howlett, Jonah Lomu: even this recent short list is stunning.

But would we swap Simon Geoghegan for all of ’em? Remember the 1995 World Cup and Lomu bowling over an assortment of Underwoods and other Englishmen on his way to becoming the sensation of the tournament? Only one man troubled him. Look closely at the video (43-19 in Ellis Park), you can see just a flicker of alarm in big Jonah’s eyes the first time Geoghegan comes at him, a blurred frenzy of blonde and green.

Ten years later, the incident between Brian O’Driscoll and New Zealand marked a diplomatic low in this rivalry. But mostly, it has been fine and dandy – apart from the distorted win/loss record.

Today marks an unusual day for Ireland and Irish rugby. Even the All Blacks will have noticed the Irish are going through an identity crisis. Declan Kidney and the boys may walk into the dressing-room today to find that Serge Blanco and Billy Beaumont have been appointed as supervisors for the afternoon. Ireland is fragile and wounded. There can only be one response. It is time to make an international statement. In these days of billions, one try to nil would do fine.