Sunday, Dublin. Not that you’d know. The city hums and the rain pours in a half-arsed attempt at what they call autumn.
Sunday, La Rochelle. The cobbled streets are apocalyptically untouched and the silence is broken every so often, apologetically so, but it’s very much autumn.
This is the world in 0.5 speed. Everything moves at the pace of the catamarans that drift into the port as if marshalled by a tortoise that has long outlived the hare.
The sauvignon blanc spectators sip at what society has taught us Irish to be an embarrassing pace. They sit content. It drives two 23-year-old men to paint a picture of their previously unfathomable retirement.
What’s presumed to be a homeless man draws glares on the bus, a moment striking and amusing. I can’t help but notice in his shirt and jeans that he’s better dressed than I am.
But even in spite of O’Neills shorts that probably taint the Ralph Lauren that engulfs them from every direction, and away from the impressively bilingual Laois men running McNulty’s pub, the locals are genuinely glad to see some Irish people in town.
Ultan Dillane and Donnacha Ryan are a large part of the reason why:
“There’s only 50,000, 60,000 people. It’s the only show in town and they really get in behind it. In Ireland, it’s such a small country as well, sometimes it felt like there was more pressure on us than there needed to be.”
By Monday, you get a good taste of why it’s the only show in town. Donnacha Ryan informs me that the weekend just passed hosted a sold-out Stade Rochelais rugby match for the 95th occasion in a row.
Fans stomp in unison on the steel steps behind the goals pre-match, minutes before Will Skelton and Uini Atonio replicate that impact with their combined weight (just a few bags of sugar shy of 300 kilograms, or a grizzly bear).
But then post-match, when the crowds die, the kids of Ronan O’Gara, Donnacha Ryan and others potter in the footprints of the giants who trotted the same turf.
As Ryan walks the pristine surface, he holds the hand of one of his kids and that word ‘content’ comes to mind again.
As if this is a guy who has fallen on his feet.
As if this is a guy who has stumbled into the perfect life.
But he isn’t, he’s the furthest thing from it.
In 2017, Ireland met England in the final round Six Nations’ match, with Eddie Jones men toppling all before them en route to a potential Grand Slam - only to be undone by an Irish ambush spearheaded by Peter O’Mahony.
Ryan knew that would be his last game for his country. He had made a decision, even if it wasn’t finalised, but moving abroad spelled the end of his days in green, regardless if he felt he had more to give or not:
“I only found out that morning (about the move to Racing 92). They were going for the Grand Slam. You really appreciate those moments you have.
“I was lucky because I didn’t have much on the table. Clubs want to get their business done early.
“Fortunately, at the time Racing were about to amalgamate with Stade Francais, and that fell through. I played my last game for Ireland against England and then that materialised.
“We tried staying in Ireland. I got a really bad injury when I was 30, 31, I had played with Munster my whole life, really enjoyable, but I probably needed some sort of change.
“I loved playing for Munster, so proud to have represented Nenagh. People are so supportive at home.
“So why are you coming to France? It’s to get out of your comfort zone, it’s a different experience.
“Racing took me, I was massively out of my comfort zone, but when you’re in the latter end of your career, you’re preparing for the next chapter.
“For a professional athlete who’s so used to everything, the scariest bit is that first year or two when you’re finished. That level of structure that you’ve had for 13 years.
“Coming to France, I still really wanted to win stuff. Really wanted to win a Top14. Really wanted to win a Champions Cup.
“I had no French at all, I actually did German at school but it was a really good challenge.”
Beside him at the impressive Macif Parc training facility is Ultan Dillane. They share a link to the French capital. A Nenagh man and a Tralee man, a former second row and a current one, former Ireland compatriots.
And so it’s easy to see why they can be tarred with one brush. But their stories could hardly be more different:
“I was born in Paris, lived there for seven years, so luckily kept some of the French. I remember leaving my friends in Paris, but we were excited to move home.
“We went from living in an apartment my whole life to a bungalow in the countryside, we could finally have pets. I remember how exciting it was getting a dog.
“Paris is a concrete jungle, we had a park beside us but it’s not the same.”
Dillane speaks briefly of his father, from the Ivory Coast, but it’s his mother who lights a fire in him as he speaks.
He never seeks to wallow in how taxing that move home was, the culture shock, or any of the rest of it as a seven-year-old child.
Perhaps he did then what he does now, and just took it all in his stride.
John Mitchell’s GAA club in Tralee roped him in early doors, but it wasn’t to be. C’est la vie:
“I played for a year, started with my brother and he was a natural at it. He got player of the season, whereas I was impact sub, well impactless sub!
“We tried loads of sports. My mum, she was a saint, she threw us into this f***ing temple fist martial arts thing in Paris before we left!
“We did soccer, swimming - almost drowned as a kid actually I remember - football then was a disaster, taekwondo, scouts and rugby, and the rugby just clicked.
“I remember running at a fella and I hurt him and felt so bad, and everyone was like ‘nah that’s good’, and I was like ‘I love this!’.”
That was the beginning of the journey. Munster came calling, but a one-year sub academy contract versus a three-year deal in the west - where Dillane’s Ireland U18 and U19 coaches were operating - was the sensible call.
“I left at 18, just before the academy. I knew there was interest in me, former players and stuff rang asking what I was doing thinking of going to Connacht!
“I was naive in thinking I’d be able to help at home straight away, so I was delighted with it, thinking I’d be able to help my mum out.
“Little did I know €300 a month just can’t cut it. My mum, the poor woman, had to send me so much money!”.
Turning 31 this year, does he see a future in a green jersey again?
“It’s not at all on the radar. At the minute it’s this weekend and everything this season. My future isn’t in Ireland, it’s here.
“God, it’s nice to dream, it’d be cool to line out again before I retire, but the current dream is to lift the shield (Top 14 title).”
For now, Dillane finds himself in western France and the life he has sculpted would tell you that hindsight is a beautiful thing, that the sacrifice was worth it and that the hard choices were all so rewarding.
It makes it all the more peculiar that the man on his left only picked up the game at 17 - as a failed hurler but a county minor footballer for Tipperary.
Different horses for different courses:
“I love hurling, it’s the best sport.”
Dillane nods and agrees. Ryan continues:
“Being able to catch the ball at that speed, it’s fantastic. Even the All-Ireland final this year, it makes you proud watching it.
“Especially being here, it’s something you might not appreciate at home. It’s great to have a sport like that to represent the Irish people.
“I was county minor for football. I was tiny, I only played two games. I was trying to make a push for the hurling but I just didn’t have it.
“I was 16/17, a bag of bones.
“I was trying to get a bit blockier I suppose and they told me rugby would really toughen you up. Would you believe the rugby club was 500 metres from my house and I never went there?
“I struggled with the contact at the start, obviously GAA is all about evasion. My first year I made the Munster youths and Ireland youths thanks to Pat Whelan, playing two games a week with St Munchin’s.
“I didn’t have too many bad habits I suppose. I was lucky to have good coaches, guys to guide me along, didn’t have any really bad injuries. They came thick and fast later on.
“I was very light, but as Ultan said, you don’t need to be really talented to play rugby if you’re very competitive and fit, sprinkled with a bit of aggression, you can go far.”
Neither man would be so outspoken to admit that they did indeed go far, yet both found themselves in the company of Joe Schmidt donned in Irish green together.
It was nothing short of a revolutionary era in Irish rugby. The tales tumble one into the next and that revolution is some way contextualised for those removed from the endless and strenuous nature of international rugby:
“I always believe it was a match made in heaven. The type of Irish player, they’re very studious, I don’t know what it is, but if they understand the ‘why’... Joe was really good at that, he’s a teacher by trade.
“He has a lot of one-liners that I’d still use.
‘You’re the fish in the bottom of the barrel’ was one for the ball carrier for ball presentation. He was so far ahead, he used to do mindfulness.
“We were all doing our normal mindfulness, music going, and all of a sudden Joe started narrating: ‘Rory you’re going to throw the ball in, etcetera, flat pass to Johnny who’s going to do a fake switch’ and he’d go on like that.
“It’s future history.”
It sparks a memory in Dillane:
“He had mindfulness on the computers, so say you’re playing England at the weekend:
‘It’s a kick-off. Johnny kicks the ball long. George Kruis collects, and at the breakdown, you see Vunipola sealing off. You approach with intent. You feel the impact on your shoulder into Vunipola as you counterruck.’”
The conversation flows back the Tipperary man’s way:
“Every player would read the same sets of sheets, the same scenarios. You’d have your play, you’re in no doubt.
“Joe had his way to stress you as hard as he could, so you’re so comfortable being uncomfortable. That was another one of his one-liners.
“I remember this drill. ‘1,2,3,4′.”
Dillane nods, agrees and laughs, Ryan reminisces:
“It was literally a pass from here to there, but the stress! He would scream it at you, oh my God, and the thing then was how much more could you possibly do to be prepared for a game?
“Joe and the Irish guys was a match made in heaven. He initially brought in a lot of Leinster lads who knew his style.
“He’s obviously trying to build that with Australia, he doesn’t have that luxury, but attention to detail, it shows you another way.”
That attention to detail undoubtedly exists in La Rochelle, although Dillane emphasises the difference in Schmidt and his former second-row colleague-turned-coach.
Ryan too talks of “the craic” at training, the importance of it, and keeping things fresh when scenarios arise like the 17 matches in 17 weekends such as last season, a “17-game block”.
He has seen a lot in a short coaching career to date, not least back-to-back European Cups that rendered the port in the town unrecognisable such was the hysteria at both homecomings:
“In Marseille we spent the last 8-10 minutes on their line, which was super defence from Leinster, but we showed real resilience, which was positive for the following year because they started like a train again.
“The one in the Aviva was really incredible. Only for UJ Seutini’s try…. we could see the belief when the boys came in at half-time. The likes of Ultan coming in in the back-row, bringing that energy, that was massively important.
“To come back the way we did, and hang on again like that against that Leinster team was incredibly special. It’s a hard thing to do, to do the double.”
For Dillane, the 2023 success joins his 2016 Pro12 title with Connacht, an unlikely success story that joined a golden triangle of huge sporting upsets that year, alongside Leicester City and the Chicago Cubs.
It was the ‘Windy City’ too where both more than played their part in dismantling the mighty ‘All Blacks’ for the first time in Irish history.
But the Pro12 success was truly special when Pat Lam had made his troops aware that it was the biggest occasion in Connacht’s history, and they performed in defying the odds once more to overcome Leinster.
“We weren’t thinking about winning the Pro12, we were thinking let’s win the Challenge Cup.
“We hit form in the spring, after we beat Munster at home, I think Shkin (Donnacha Ryan) was playing that day….
“I was”, Ryan laughs. “I got knocked out by Matt Healy, who was great that day.”
Dillane goes on:
“We beat you (Munster) at home that year too. Bundee (Aki) was on fire.
“Once we beat Munster at home, I remember on the Monday, Jimmy (Duffy) was like ‘I think we can go on to win this competition’. We got a big buzz out of that.
“Pat (Lam) had the same kinda energy when we got to the team meeting.
“Even Pat’s chat the week of the final. He said it was a celebration of the season. Obviously it was the biggest occasion in the club’s history.
“Pat made it seem like we were there because we deserved it. On game day, his demeanour changed and it was just ‘go out and play’.
“We got on top early on and we had such a big lead, then the second half we had to really pull through, but yeah, it was class.”
The aforementioned Challenge Cup run didn’t materialise, not for the want of trying.
An away task against Yenisey-STM of Siberia may have sounded like an easy five points on first viewing.
The experience that transpired was anything but straightforward:
“We flew to Moscow, it was a chartered flight, and then we flew to Krasnoyarsk, a city with a population of 3 million. It was minus 20 something.
“The bus drove past a bridge and the river was frozen.
“We went to walk into the gym, it was straight out of a movie like, there were maybe four to seven year olds doing gymnastics, stereotypical Russians, all sorts of moves and we were there trying to talk through our plays for the week all wearing coats because it was freezing!
Ryan chimes in: “Drago in the corner, boxing away!”.
Dillane laughs, momentarily escaping some low-level PTSD:
“The cold was piercing, right down to your skin and your muscles.
“We were told some amount of lies. We were promised 20 something thousand. It was on the news, you could see it on the news channels during the week, bigging up the game.
“There was at most like 200 people, and most of those 200 were green for Connacht! They promised a heated pitch. It was covered in snow.
“Our plane froze so we got stuck for three days, and we went out. It got a bit messy then! So it was a great week!”.
Some excellent preparation for Joe Schmidt’s adage of being comfortable being uncomfortable, if nothing else.
In autumnal La Rochelle, it’s a comfortable distance from the Siberian snow, a distance that’s been engineered out of willpower, bravery, and refusing to live in the comfort zone.
Which ironically makes you think that Dillane and Ryan are not that dissimilar after all.
Two Munster men, working under a third by the name of Ronan O’Gara, navigating the road less travelled.
But when the final whistle goes, Ultan Dillane is still that boy that felt guilt over inflicting pain on another and getting credit for it in Tralee.
He’s still the man that thought that €75 a week might be enough to feed himself and help out his mother at home while still a boy himself.
Soon 100 matches in a row will be sold out at the Stade Marcel Déflandre, but when the footfall disperses, Donnacha Ryan’s kids will still be holding their Daddy’s hand as well as VIP access that they don’t even understand. Innocence is bliss.
Some day they’ll get it, be it in the bustling city of Paris where Donnacha Ryan plied his trade, or in Thomond Park, or maybe even 500 metres down the road from Nenagh Ormond RFC.
For now they’re just big, friendly giants of Roald Dahl’s imagination that roam in the serenity of La Rochelle.
All Blacks conquerors, Champions Cup winners, risk takers. Two thirds of an Irish cog that keeps the La Rochelle wheel spinning. And what a feat that is.
For here, rugby is the only show in town.
And in a town dominated by yellow, there’s more than a speckle of green.