After that drubbing the new anthem at Lansdowne is God save the green

IT PASSED without a whistle without even a boo or a hoot or a fire cracker. Former English captain Will Carling stood to attention, arm on breast. Now, what was he thinking? God Save The Queen they sang and Lansdowne Road was a cathedral of courtesy.

"God save Irish rugby" we thought as the English, with a pack of comic book dimensions, set about showing Ireland that such courtesies could hardly be expected to be repaid on the pitch.

To be fair to Irish coaching adviser Brian Ashton he hadn't promised anything and so the relationship between Irish rugby and the optimistic public went on its rocky way. Like a troubled marriage where one partner is constantly trying not to let the other down but is doomed always to fail, so Ireland's courtship with success ended quite spectacularly in front of almost 50,000 people.

While the predictability of defeat rarely softens the blow, the record 46-6 scoreline was, by any standards, quite a wallop.

A king's ransom for the thoughts going through the mind of Murray Kidd, the Irish coach who "stood down" not a month ago. Even more booty for what was running through Irish manager Pat Whelan's mind as he sat in the bunker at the press conference under the North Terrace with his "take me on" pose.

Arms folded and back straight, such body language hasn't been seen since the Italian match last month when he was last marched in to atone for the bins of the team.

When was the last time we slapped our thighs and pronounced, "it can't get any worse"? When was the last time Lansdowne Road haemorrhaged its Irish supporters 10 minutes before the final whistle?

"Catch up" is what Ireland are at now, said Ashton. Understated and soft spoken, he could even smile, his eyes now open to the road ahead. The "quick fix" is not on for rugby junkies, he warned. It will take two to three years for the Irish team to be stripped down and rebuilt on a modern design.

We have lived for some time now on a peculiarly Irish diet of cold winds and disappointments. We have eaten from the table of despair and we have drunk dry the well of hope. Patience now, it seems, must be Irish rugby's virtues.