Ah he's a fine player, but does he own any land?
Cal Gray
Rugby Correspondent
I love rugby. It mixes the fast with the strong and the skilled with the well-built, and hasn’t been infected by the disease made famous by soccer, ‘diving’, also known as being a pure p***y. You can hit, dodge, pass, kick and jink when the occasion suits, and if it results in a try you don’t have a trademark celebration like soccer players. The game celebrates the modest, whilst still worshipping the gifted. If ever there were a better example of this than Sean O’Brien, then I haven’t seen it.
The story starts as a fight breaks out between Leinster A and Saracens A at the grounds of Old Albanians RFC. Humble to the bone, O’Brien looked on as other players scuffled. Whist being a spectator, Dan ‘Twat’ Scarborough ran over to him looking to intimidate the 21 year-old Irish flanker. Scarborough, according to Sean, said “get off back to Ireland, Paddy, and eat some spuds.” Clearly not a keen anthropologist that Dan, but he was soon educated. “I told him, ‘I’ll show you spuds.’ And then I hit him on the jaw with a right hook, so I did.” Sean chuckled as he told the press.
Are you in love with the man yet?
Born in Ardristan in County Carlow, the quiet town fits the man. Even when you ask the locals about their new favourite son, they’ll reply with things like “He sold me turf once.” or “Ah yeah he’s great, and his father makes a lovely cup of tea.” The town bleeds typical Irish blood.
This background has been well documented by Leinster marketing. We all know the typecast of a Leinster player; Blackrock jersey, Dubarry shoes and Canterbury tracksuit trousers, born in Ballsbridge and given a BMW for his 17th birthday from daddy. Leinster needs a new image, reaching out beyond South Dublin, and if you have ever had a conversation with Sean O’Brien, you’d soon guess that the only thing he got for his 17th birthday from mummy and daddy was a day off cutting silage. The last time someone destroyed a well-known stereotype so thoroughly, a UCD graduate was promoted above a Trinity graduate (vital cage rattling.)
Sean doesn’t drink espressos, he doesn’t get his haircut somewhere with photos of celebrity customers on the walls, and he most certainly doesn’t use Twitter. Blunt as ever, he once told a reporter that he “doesn’t tweet, and never will either.” This is a man who gets on with the job at hand, leaving the tweeting to the birds (and Jamie Heaslip. #overlyactiveonTwitter)
Besides the indifference to social networking, you have to wonder where he would find the time! Having already helped Tullow’s Gaelic footballers with their fitness training, O’Brien set up fitness boot camps in Carlow town, then after roaring success, more boot camps were added in Newbridge and Portlaoise. He is also head coach of Tullow RFC, never missing a match, which requires a 100-mile trip at least twice a week following his own training. The players and staff simply state, “Sean O’Brien is Tullow RFC”.
Meanwhile, he has 25 suckling cows, Belgian Blues to be precise, on the family farm. “I actually sold a few of them recently. I’ll let my father look after them now, ‘cause they’re a full-time job. But myself and John Hayes are always talking about cattle and stuff,” reported Sean.
Leo Cullen also told the press about one morning in March when a notice was pinned up in the Leinster dressing room prior to a Heineken Cup match, advertising home-made seeded bread, baked by Sean O’Brien’s granny, Evelyn O’Toole.
Are you in love with the man yet?
Sean O’Brien is a different type of sports celebrity; he lets his rugby do the talking. He clearly made a big first impression on Joe Schmidt when he was first appointed, as he was captain against Wasps in pre-season, having turned down French and English contract offers just to be able to continue his commitment to Leinster, and of course, Tullow.
O’Brien’s game is centered around breaking the gain line. At least it is these days. When you compare the Sean O’Brien that played rugby before the Leinster Academy to the Sean O’Brien of today, you see a stark difference. Quite often, budding rugby players feel the best way to get further up the pitch is running through your opponent, but a good coach will show you it’s better to run around them. O’Brien picks great lines and shrugs off the last gasp tackles of opposing players better than any flanker I watched in the 2010/11 season. He does this so well that you think he’s coated in grease. Besides reading the game well, he also has blistering pace for a man weighing 110kg, and unbelievable strength. But possibly the best part of his game, is that he’s not bound to any one tactic. His training consists of massive sled runs, extremely heavy squat lifts, dead lifts as well as the usual upper bodywork which a professional rugby player does everyday. I once saw a comment on the internet where O’Brien was said to be the “offspring of a chance encounter between Chuck Norris and a Rhinoceros.” Apt.
His team mates will tell you that he has unmatched strength you only earn on a farm (see David Pocock and Rocky Elsom for proof.) Sean also trains his mind. Still a young player, his coaches say that the most impressive display from him is seen when he comes off the pitch. No one is said to assess their own game better, regularly being critical, but never losing his modesty. He will regale the dressing room with how he should have “hit that ruck at a different angle” or “run at the fly-half instead of the first centre.” Nathan Hines once congratulated Sean after scoring two tries in a Magners League match, to which O’Brien replied “Arah thanks yeah but sure I could’ve got three.” If other players knew that O’Brien was looking to improve his game this much, they would shit a metaphorical brick, especially Ronan O’Gara, whom O’Brien has twice given concussion.
O’Brien is 24 years old (born on Valentine’s Day, which isn’t relevant at all) and I can safely say he has another 11 years at the top level left in him. When he does retire, you can bet there will be no massive fanfare, no hero’s send-off, no cash-cow autobiography written, and no lengthy TV news piece. He will pick up his gear bag, salute the lads in the dressing room, shake a hand or two, say “G’luck to ya” and go back to the cows, forever to sit on his tractor and remember the days when won he the Heineken Cup on his own.
If ever we wanted an ambassador for Irish sport, it’s Sean O’Brien.
G’man Sean, g’man.
