Red express is Cardiff-bound

RUGBY: Probably should have seen that one coming really. So much for the notion that like all derbies and all semi-finals, there would only be a score between them. But many another old adage came true. That packs win matches, and backs decide by how much.

That experience counts for everything, and maybe you have to have suffered more to come through days like this. And, most of all, never back against Munster in the Heineken European Cup.

True, they've still never reached their Holy Grail, but they are in the final for the third time in seven years. Munster will return to the Millennium Stadium in Cardiff on May 20th to face the teak-tough challenge of Biarritz, in an attempt to exorcise the ghosts of the 2002 final there when they were the victims of Leicester and a certain (Neil) Backhander, and many another ghost along the way.

The Munster nation against the Basque nation. That it is the French team and not Bath after Saturday's grisly bore probably makes it a more competitive game. Biarritz are a big, bruising outfit, with any amount of hard, aggressive, straight-running types and a real match-winner with the boot in Dimitri Yachvili and successive semi-final heartaches of their own to spur them on. But then they are less likely to take up their full allotment of tickets.

And as we saw yesterday, no one is more adept or resourceful in supporting their heroes than the Red Army. The records may show this was a Leinster "home" match but, as expected, the invasion ensured Lansdowne Road became a little corner of Munster for the day; albeit with considerable help from Paul O'Connell and the Munster dogs of war. They fairly took over the old place, albeit not without a good fight.

As expected, the South Terrace was a riot of red-clad, flag-waving Munster fans, with a few brave blue souls thrown in, whereas red was dotted far more freely in the North Terrace. Leinster's revitalised band of post-Toulouse fans gave it their best shout with Allez Les Bleus but they simply never had much to cheer about and were always behind from the second minute, their team ensnared in a vice-like red grip.

In between the late tries by Ronan O'Gara and Trevor Halstead which varnished a cruelly handsome 30-6 victory, they could give The Fields its most almighty blast of all time.

Redemption, bragging rights, whatever; they can walk taller now if they're not too hungover on the giddy heights of yesterday's win.

"It's great for us country people to come up here and get a result," quipped Anthony Foley dryly in a remark that will find plenty of resonance among their supporters. "To come up here on such a massive occasion and do what we did does a lot for the game of rugby in Ireland and it does a lot for Munster people living in Dublin," added their captain and heartbeat.

"We're very conscious of the fact that people live their lives through this team and we try and do the best for them as well."

Never before has there been an occasion in Irish rugby remotely like it, nor such a coming together of so many outstanding Irish rugby players in such an important competitive environment. If it wasn't quite the epic nail-biter we had anticipated, that is entirely because of Munster's all-round excellence.

In their ways, two stellar players typified what the two teams are about but as is the way of rugby matches, the influence of O'Connell was more profound than that of Brian O'Driscoll, who worked trojanly but was confined to scraps as the Munster pack all but devoured their workload, dominating the lineouts, surer, unrelentingly physical and purposeful in contact, and almost error-free in everything they did.

If O'Driscoll is Ireland's greatest ever back, then O'Connell is surely the greatest ever Irish forward. In a performance of almost savage all-round intensity, as usual he led from the front, and how they followed him and the magnificent Foley.

Denis Leamy, Jerry Flannery, Donncha O'Callaghan, Wallace - ultra-competitive animals, aggressive, streetwise, at times even cynical. In short, excellent cup rugby. Few do it better.

There was much fury, especially in a thrilling opening 20 minutes that seemed to last forever, but amid the fury Munster were much the more controlled and focused in what they were doing. Behind them Ronan O'Gara gave a masterclass, although tellingly, he told his forward warriors up front at half-time he hardly expected to see the ball in the second half.

Poor Felipe Contepomi. What a sorry figure he cut by contrast. As one feared for Leinster, the Puma genius (whose brilliance has done so much to illuminate Leinster's rejuvenatory campaign) and as happened in Musgrave Park in what appears something of a personal grudge match for him, appeared to let the occasion overcome his Latin temperament to a degree.

Working off comparatively static ball, at times he ran well, and still was the man most likely to light Leinster's touchpaper, but aside from three costly missed penalties, he missed a pivotal early penalty to touch, screwed one kick out on the full and left a restart short; all typical of the error count that bedevilled his team.

But Leinster coach Michael Cheika reminded us afterwards: "At the start of the year probably no one gave Phil the time of day. He had one of those games when it came on and off. I wouldn't say criticism was warranted. But in the first half particularly when we took the ball into contact they were all over us, so he was getting static ball and that didn't allow him on to the front foot."

"The scoreline may have flattered them. They were in a far tougher game than that suggests," maintained O'Driscoll, before echoing his coach's belief when adding: "You'd be mad not to bet on Munster beating Biarritz in the final."

Yet there will be no talk of destiny being with them. They've learn ed from the past. "It's never your season. It's no one's destiny to win it," underlined O'Connell. "You need a bit of luck and you need to be the best team in the competition, I think. You need to play for 80 minutes in every game. We're through to the final now, it's a great chance to win it. But it's no one's destiny, it's the best team on the day in the final and producing the goods, with a little bit of luck, maybe."

He couldn't have put it better, and we know no one will do more to deliver it. But please, Lord, make it happen this time.