A kiss in Glasgow between CJ Stander and Peter O’Mahony, as opposed to a Glasgow kiss – which of course is a PDA, a public display of affection, with an altogether different vibe.
Just minutes after they’d quarried out a prized win in harsh circumstances, the Munster dressing room was floating on a natural feelgood high. If there wasn’t love in the air, there was a flood of oxytocin, released by the knowledge that they’d survived a serious test of their mettle.
They wouldn’t have done so without a rock-solid level of unity on the Scotstoun pitch. The happy hormones in the changing room afterwards, sealed by that alarming moment of tenderness between those two back row gorillas, only confirmed what the performance had already shown: their team spirit, their collective trust and solidarity, was unimpeachable.
It is an elusive substance and difficult to quantify, this magical ingredient that is the fuel for all-winning squads. But it usually materialises in the mundane tasks, such as covering the ground, making tackles, maintaining concentration, positional obligations and temperamental discipline. Hard labour, in other words, done willingly and in high volumes by every player on the field.
Glasgow were on a mission last Saturday night. They wanted to beat Munster and they wanted it badly. They too were willing to apply industrial levels of graft and heart to the contest. By and large they brought more creativity with them too, making line breaks and finding gaps with many moments of swift, slick interplay.
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But the visitors were displaying classic symptoms of Munster resilience: under the cosh, away from home, they were hanging in and hanging tough. It was 6-6 at the break despite all of Glasgow’s energy and aggression.
Undeterred, the home side found an even higher tempo in the third quarter. The edge they’d enjoyed in the first 40 now became almost a siege. But Munster kept plugging the gaps and filling the field with bodies; basically they kept turning up and making tackles. Glasgow to their credit continued trying to crack the nut – but the nut simply wouldn’t crack.
This combination of high athletic effort, emotional resistance and mental concentration was invoking familiar memories of previous teams in red. But the moment when they flipped the tables and went for the kill was absolutely vintage Munster.
After an hour of hard pounding, Glasgow had a measly three-point lead to show for all their work. The visitors suddenly sniffed an opening. Andrew Conway was one of them. Munster were grinding the gears in a maul. Busy and brave on the wing all night, Conway arrived at the back of the maul and began barking orders. He wanted a few of them to detach and supplement the numbers in midfield. The referee’s mic picked up his words. It also conveyed their sheer hunger to prevail. “Get out!” he roared. “Get out! Get the f*** out!”
A few minutes later they were rumbling and driving for the Glasgow line. Conway was tackled high trying to convert in the corner; Stuart Hogg was sin-binned; the match momentum had jack-knifed. We had all seen this movie before. Munster would be clinical now. They would engineer the chance and they would take it. Whereas the previous hour had demanded a major outpouring of heart and soul, this moment would require cool heads and efficient skills. Check and check again.
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Munster back in their golden era would’ve been nothing without the tribal passion that powered their pure force of will. But they’d have been nothing either without the rugby intelligence, the field craft and in-game know-how that also helped them survive so many critical situations.
Last Saturday it was like watching the team of the 2000s all over again. Those classic qualities had disappeared to varying degrees during the long, slow decline from their last European triumph in 2008. But the institutional memory seems now to have been transferred to a new generation. It presumably helps that there are a few survivors from that golden era, both in the playing and coaching staff. And it is undoubtedly an advantage to have indigenous players coming through, like the Scannell brothers and others, who have grown up watching the tradition unfold. They know what is expected of them.
But successful sporting institutions seem to be able to replicate the same formula through different generations of players and coaches. Players from other countries, from outside the tradition entirely, seem to imbibe those hallmarks too, perhaps because they possess them already and are chosen on that basis. Or perhaps because they are inspired by what they learn as they are immersed in the culture. In any event, someone like Stander is in danger of becoming more Munster than the Munsters themselves.
Thomond Park will be packed today for the final pool game, against Racing 92. A win will guarantee Munster a home quarter-final in the European Champions Cup. The whole point of the enormous effort against Glasgow was to set up this scenario. It is highly unlikely therefore that they will squander it all against the French.
In which case we can look forward to the grisly prospect of a few more hairy PDAs, before the day is done.