CONTENTS
Title Page
CHAPTER 1 RAPID RISE TO THE TOP
CHAPTER 2 COMING OF AGE
CHAPTER 3 THE GREATEST HONOUR, THE GREATEST CHALLENGE
CHAPTER 4 LEADING BY EXAMPLE
CHAPTER 5 DOWN TO BUSINESS
CHAPTER 6 THE CHANCE OF A LIFETIME
CHAPTER 7 MOVING ON
CHAPTER 8 BACK IN BUSINESS
CHAPTER 9 LEADING LEINSTER
CHAPTER 10 A DATE WITH DESTINY
CHAPTER 11 THROWING IT ALL AWAY
CHAPTER 12 GETTING BACK ON TRACK
CHAPTER 13 GRAND SLAM GLORY
CHAPTER 14 SUCCESS IN EUROPE
CHAPTER 15 UNFINISHED BUSINESS
CHAPTER 16 SWEET REVENGE
CHAPTER 17 A REALITY CHECK
CHAPTER 18 A FRESH START
CHAPTER 19 A NEW ERA BEGINS
CHAPTER 20 LEINSTER’S FINEST HOUR
Copyright
Brian O’Driscoll was born on 21 January 1979 with rugby in his blood. He weighed in at 9lb 12oz and cried, it seemed, for months without stopping. It later transpired that this was due to hunger. Little did his parents know that he would actually turn out to be a shy and very quiet child.
His father, Frank, was a decent centre in his day, who has been described by his son as a mad kamikaze tackler with a good step and plenty of wheels. He had toured Argentina with Ireland in the 1970s and played in the ‘Tests’, but in those days caps weren’t awarded for matches against the Pumas.
He was unlucky in some ways. With the great Mike Gibson around, he did not get to fulfil his ambition to play for his country more often; much later on he would get enormous pleasure from living his dreams through his son, who would become more of a friend than a son as the years progressed.
Brian’s early years were spent in Clontarf, in north Dublin. Both of his parents were, and still are, GPs. His mother, Geraldine, keeps the whole family in order, and is very much the boss of the house. Brian was the youngest of three children, with two sisters – Jules, a nurse, and Sue, who is two years younger, and works in event management along with doing a bit of radio work.
The family are close-knit and to this day they spend Sundays together whenever possible. At the meal table nobody gets more than anybody else. The girls aren’t slow to tell Brian if the dishwasher needs filling, and the closeness and security of his family unit has undoubtedly helped to keep his feet on the ground and stop him becoming too big for his boots.
Even from a young age, Brian was showing signs of having a strong work ethic. As a child he hung a golf ball from a tree in the garden and would spend hours thwacking the ball with one of his dad’s clubs. Frank said he didn’t think his son was showing signs of madness, but was learning to develop his hand–eye co-ordination.
In those days, Frank kept a greenhouse of which he was very proud. If anyone broke a window with a stone they would be in big trouble. Do it with a ball, though, and it was in a good cause!
The garden was full of balls in those days. Golf balls, tennis balls, Gaelic footballs, soccer balls. Brian’s first hero was footballer Mark Hughes, who he admired for his attitude as much as his ability. Tap-ins were never his style. Brian was a big Manchester United fan from a young age, but he was never much of a one for posters. As a child, he was always someone who kept his feelings very close to his chest. He was never an exhibitionist, and everything was always under control, with all things in sensible proportions. So far as the nature of his personality went, little changed as he grew into an adult.
Yet there was another side to him, a side that was fiercely competitive even as a young child. At the age of around 13 or 14, he was playing a round of golf with his father at Royal Dublin. They were playing the 10th, a par four, where you have to hit the ball across a mound, but there’s a hollow to the left, and if you get it in there you seldom make par. Brian hit his tee shot straight into the mound. His father told him that he would give him 20 pounds if he made a par from there. So Brian responded by hitting a three-iron, followed by a chip to 10 feet before sinking the put. It was clear that Brian had a massive in-built determination.
As he grew up, he had his share of difficulties. A severe astigmatism – when the shape of the eyeball is not truly spherical – meant he could not keep contact lenses in, and he was chronically short-sighted, meaning he has always needed glasses for reading.
He was painfully shy throughout his childhood, and his parents found it a real struggle to get him to come out of his shell. That was the main reason he was sent to Blackrock College in Dublin, a fee-paying Catholic secondary school, which provided an education to several rugby stars including Alain Rolland, as well as other famous people such as the comedian and actor Ardal O’Hanlon. There was something about that school that appealed to Brian’s parents. Children walked out of there with their shoulders pinned back and their heads held high. This was exactly what their son needed.
It didn’t take long for the school to make an impact on Brian. In his second year he was elected as a class rep, a first taste of leadership for a future Ireland captain. His passion for sport continued to grow during his time here. Someone had seen him playing football (soccer) in the Community Games and encouraged him to join Trinity Boys, but at Blackrock he found rugby.
The summer before he started at Blackrock, he watched the 1991 Rugby World Cup on television. When he saw Michael Jones, the All Black flanker, Mark Hughes was relegated from top spot in his list of heroes. Brian watched with awe at what Jones could do. He was a back and a forward rolled into one combining great skill and superb running skills. He could tackle and mix it when it came to the rough stuff as well. Brian had found his role model.
However, when it came to his own development, things were a bit slow to begin with. Alan MacGinty, his school principal, left him off the Junior Cup team, on the grounds that he was tiny. That decision has haunted Alan ever since.
The only rugby Brian played in 1994 was with the under-16s at Clontarf. They won their league and that summer came the trip to Wales. Hugh Fanning, the coach, made some throwaway remark to Brian along the lines of: ‘Don’t forget to send me a postcard when you play for the Lions’. Seven years later, the card was in the post.
From then on, his talent began to shine through and, in 1996, while still at Blackrock, he was capped by Ireland Schools three times.
Legend surrounds his performance against Clongowes, in what was his last schools match. The Blackrock senior team were trailing as the clock ran down. Four times in the last five minutes, Brian tried to rescue the match with drop-goal attempts. One soared right over the top of the posts. Another hit the woodwork and bounced back into play, and Blackrock lost the game. This was a bitter pill to swallow, but learning to accept defeat with dignity was, unfortunately, something he would have to get used to as a sportsman.
Even at this stage, people were describing Brian