From the blindside:Around midday on Saturday, I went up and stood at the top of the East Stand in Thomond Park and looked around me. Kick-off was still a good six hours away and the stadium was only just getting going for the day. It's a quiet place when there's nobody about and it was nice to take a moment to visualise what might happen there later that day.

I used to like doing it as a player in the hours leading up to a big game but there’s a difference between doing it looking out the window of a hotel room and doing it looking out over the pitch and the stands and all around.

When you’re a player, you never get to see the ground in this state on a match day. You never miss what you never had but standing there on Saturday watching all the different teams of staff getting organised for the game, I began to see the day a different way. As a player, you’re cut off. You don’t see what goes into getting the place ready, what goes into everything from the corporate set-up to the stewarding to the TV broadcast. How so many people put their energies into making the day a success.

It made me think about the crowd that was going to turn up later on.

What sort of crowd would it be? Would they be the old-style Munster crowd that made a Saturday evening Heineken Cup game special? Would they do all they could to have a bearing on the game?

Or would they sit back and wait on the game to come to them, as has happened a few times over the past two years?

A player knows the crowd will never win them a game. When coaches try to bang home the importance of getting the crowd involved, it always comes with a warning that it’s you who has to take responsibility and go and do your job. The crowd won’t make a tackle and they won’t score a try.

But nobody denies that the crowd can and will be a factor. A big English team was coming to Limerick for a Saturday evening game and if Munster were going to win, they were going to need the crowd to help them out. That’s what I was hoping would happen anyway.

It used to be the case that this was a given. You never had to hope because you knew it would be there. But gradually over the last couple of years, there’s been a bit of a change in the Munster support.

Empty seats

Everybody has noticed it. The crowd hasn’t been quite as vocal as it used to be. The fervour that used to surround the games hasn’t reached the same heights. There were even some empty seats at Heineken Cup games last year.

Obviously, there are good reasons for this. The recession has hit Limerick very hard and people have to make their own choices about what to do with their money. The turnover in players has brought in some unfamiliar faces to the team so there isn’t the same buzz around the ground just yet when those players get on the ball as there was when somebody like a David Wallace or a Jerry Flannery did.

And clearly, a lack of success is going to mean a drop-off in support.

It happens with every team in every sport around the world. It’s 2008 since Munster won the Heineken Cup, 2010 since the last semi-final appearance. Players have come and gone, coaches have come and gone – it’s understandable if supporters have decided to come and go as well.

In saying that, there’s no doubt that some of the people who’ve kept coming to games and kept making themselves heard have been frustrated with those who haven’t.

The Munster supporters always saw themselves as having something special. It was a support base that came from the clubs and built itself up over the years and it deserved its reputation across Europe. Munster fans would go anywhere to see their team and would make the sort of effort that other clubs in Europe could only look at with envy.

And when other teams came to Limerick, the Munster fans let them know all about it. But just in recent years, there have been games where the initial roar at the start of the game has settled down very quickly and 15 minutes in, you’ve felt like you could be at a game anywhere in Europe. That has been frustrating to see and there are plenty of Munster fans who’ve felt that frustration.

Prime-time slot

Of course, one big factor has been the time that games have been held at. It’s been an offshoot of the lack of success – kick-off times are governed by the TV schedules and when Munster aren’t perceived to be challengers for the title, they’re not going to get all their games fixed for the prime-time slot of six o’clock on a Saturday.

You’re never going to get the whole place going bananas for a lunchtime kick-off. There will never be the same buzz, no matter who the opposition are.

But when that lack of atmosphere carries over into the next game and the next game, it becomes a pattern.

So I was a small bit nervous about what might come about last weekend. I felt pretty sure that a must-win game against Saracens at prime time on a Saturday would mean the crowd would be really up for it but I couldn’t be totally certain.

I needn’t have worried. As the ground started to fill and the teams came out for their warm-up, it just felt different.

Half an hour before the game, you could sense the intensity in the air. I went down pitchside at one stage to do a piece to camera for Sky with Will Greenwood and you knew the people in the stands were wound tight.

The hairs were standing on the back of my neck. Right away, I felt totally jealous of everybody that was involved in the game. This was the Thomond Park I missed.

You can’t be up for every game. We all accept that from players from time to time and we should accept it from the crowd as well. But a game like this was one where the team needed a performance and a result and they needed the crowd to make their presence felt – which they did, in a massive way.

They got into it from the start, roaring the players in from their warm-up and back out for the kick-off. They got on the backs of the opposition and there’s no doubt some of the Saracens players didn’t quite seem themselves.

As well as that, the crowd lifted every Munster player when they got involved. This isn’t airy-fairy stuff – a player will genuinely get back up off the ground quicker when the crowd is going mad for a tackle he has made. It’s not a conscious choice – it’s pure adrenaline and it pushes out any pain you feel and gets you stuck into the next phase. The crowd makes a difference.

Whatever happens to this team now, whether they get out of the group or not, I hope Saturday was a bit of a turning point. There were mistakes in the game, there were facets of it that Munster need to improve on if they’re going to get a result away this weekend but even so, I was pleased after the game because this felt like old times. It felt like there was that connection between the team and the supporters that was so vital to the best Munster days.

Performance

Players always know when they’re not giving the crowd a performance to latch onto. If and when it happens, they go away and do what they can to make it right for the next game. That’s your responsibility as a rugby player. You need those supporters.

But supporters have a responsibility too I think. That might sound a bit rich to people who are spending their money to go to games but there’s a minimum requirement of passion and heart for your team. If you think you’re just going to be entertained, you’re not really taking part in the day. I’ve said this about Irish fans going to the Aviva before – that connection between team and supporters can make a difference but it won’t unless everyone gets into it.

Hopefully, Saturday has raised the standard again of what Thomond Park can be for Munster. It wasn’t the deciding factor in the game but it was an integral part of the day. It was great to be there for it.

Long may it last.