The phrase “crushing inevitability “ comes to mind. So do the words “beleaguered”, “sorry”, “dismal”, and any other pejoratives you’d care to mention.
Few expected Scotland to best Ireland on Sunday. Even the Irish sporting media – which has so long trumpeted the overused, inaccurate “talk themselves up” card that Neil O’Sullivan, Stephen Ferris and others love to fall back on – were realistic in their assumptions of Irish victory.
But none of them expected this pasting. “Chastening” doesn’t even begin to describe it. “Limp” barely suffices. There was no notion of a Scottish foothold on the match, no realistic effort to assert themselves on a coasting Irish side. Never mind grabbing the game by the scruff of the neck – they barely grazed Ireland’s heels.
We have been here before. And it is worth paying at least lip service to Ireland’s platoon of well-drilled forwards, their peerless mobility and drive, their sheer influence. Against this Ireland’s best, Scotland were never all that likely to pull off a mythical win, to finally put those nagging doubts to bed. But a failure to contend is utterly inexcusable.
It might be too late for this “golden generation” — easily the best team that Scotland have had in the professional era — to challenge for real silverware. Finn Russell, Huw Jones, Jonny Gray and others are reaching a certain age; Richie Gray, Hamish Watson, and Sean Maitland already have. Greig Laidlaw has moved on, leaving no real leader worth his salt behind.
It’s genuinely tragic. After wrenching itself up from the post-amateur morass, Scotland have finally accumulated a team of genuine players, yet have no championship to show for it, not even a second-place finish. There have been so many nearly-days: Wales in 2021, France last year, South Africa last autumn. There have been equally many trouncings, pastings and what-have-yous. It feels like an even half of them have been against Ireland.
But this one trumps the whole sorry lot. There have been countless dress rehearsals for Sunday’s game, but ultimately, it was so telegraphed, so relentless, so crushingly inevitable, that it transcends expectations. It was those expectations, made real. It was the game that every Scotland fan has had nightmares about.
This Scotland team has experienced so many losses against Ireland that it is hard to imagine that they’ll ever beat them. There is simply too much there, too much psychological debris, too many memories. It’s hard to see Grant Gilchrist or Ben White ever able to take on their Celtic opponents without the flotsam and jetsam of so many gutting, dispiriting losses clouding their minds. It’s par for the course, at this point.
So, what now? Rancour, acrimony; renewed urgings for “hunger and passion”; maybe they’ll beat England, maybe they won’t. But it doesn’t feel like it matters anymore. The coach’s contract is up in 2026 — and, truth be told, Scotland can’t wait that long to tear it up.
Gregor Townsend’s team have failed the big-boy test in a way that, you sense, is irreparable, inescapable. He has had ten attempts to prepare for this fixture, and failed catastrophically at the eleventh without Ireland really innovating tactically. That’s enough bites of the cherry for any manager. Of course Scotland lost the lightning duo of Finn Russell and Darcy Graham to early injuries — and already lacked Sione Tuipulotu, Scott Cummings and Max Williamson — but that would mitigate losing by a narrower scoreline. It doesn’t excuse a total failure to contend. Not much does.
Some of us have been here before. Some of us still have the shirt from fifteen years ago, when Scotland boasted one of their weakest lineups to date, while Ireland gleamed with heroes: Paul O’Connell, Gordon D’Arcy, Brian O’Driscoll, Rory Best, Jamie Heaslip. But even that year, Scotland beat Ireland. They competed. Under Townsend, it feels like no Scotland side ever will – and there’s no chance of winning the Six Nations if there’s one side who’ll always, always, beat you.
The “Hibernian Hoodoo” clearly won’t end with Townsend in charge. There’s only one solution. Otherwise, we’ll all be remembering a Dumbarton native who famously sang: “same as it ever was, same as it ever was, same as it ever was…”
Photo Credits: “Gregor Townsend – 2022 Tour Series, Galashiels” by Cs-wolves is licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0.