One can rarely recall such doom and gloom, or even downright anger, as hangs over the apparent decline of an Ireland side at the moment, writes Gerry Thornley.

Perhaps we in the media, and by extension the public, over-reacted to the wins over South Africa and Australia less than a year ago and the third Triple Crown in four years that followed. Nevertheless, close your eyes and remember, or better still press play on the videos. That was cracking, modern-day, high intensity, highly skilled rugby.

Granted, the Springboks and the Wallabies had altogether longer-term priorities. Jake White brought over a largely second string team. John Connolly and his brains trust were trying different combinations with a view to getting the balance of their squad right. They were building toward this World Cup.

Ireland had more short-term objectives, were at the optimum early stage of their season and were in rude health in terms of injuries. Even so, the pace and accuracy of those performances, the clearing out, the offloading, the running lines, the lineout, the maul, the support play and the accuracy were light years away from where the team is now.

The poorness of play, anxiousness and alarming drop in standards from those performances to the recent wins over Namibia and Georgia have to be viewed in the context of three ominously sluggish warm-up games.

One cannot subscribe to the theory that this team has become a bad one overnight, for as O'Sullivan sharply observed when fending a question about "two recent blips", once there's more than one blip it's no longer a blip.

Also taking into account the abortive comeback from a nervy, stalled start against France, one outstanding 80 minutes against England, the eventually thrilling dissection of Italy, their form has gone from patchy to, as O'Sullivan admitted, "stagnant".

We were never amongst the cheerleaders hereabouts, but by the same token, O'Sullivan hasn't become a bad coach, nor have those backing him up. They were in charge on those days at home to the Boks, Wallabies and England as well as Rome. But something appears to have gone horribly wrong in the planning, physical preparation, training, selection and tactics.

Far from playing the modern game as espoused by the Southern Hemisphere sides and, two nights ago, France, Ireland have retreated into their shells and talk of a high-risk game which in fact is becoming more conservative amid fear of mistakes.

Part of the problem is, seemingly, the overt attention on the hitherto 15 Untouchables, two of whom (Peter Stringer and Denis Hickie) have paid the price for the team's stagnancy. Amongst the effects are Eoin Reddan comes in virtually cold despite two years in the system, while, allowing for the awful treatment of Geordan Murphy, Gavin Duffy could be pitched it any moment after six weeks on the sidelines.

The emphasis on "team" appears to have drawn an unhealthy demarcation line within the squad and generated a certain staleness in the "team" and in the direction they're being led. O'Sullivan seems at as much of a loss as anyone. You look at Jake White feverishly bouncing thoughts and observations off newly-hired assistant coach Eddie Jones in the stands during their facile 36-0 win over England and it reminds you of how fresh ideas are often beneficial.

Most coaching shelf-lives tend to be no more than four years, six at a stretch. When Clive Woodward's went beyond that, he had at least won championships, a Grand Slam and a World Cup, but even that went quickly pear-shaped.

You wonder if the stagnancy and staleness is in part the product of the IRFU's grossly premature decision to grant O'Sullivan a four-year extension.

Amid the accolades for the "union's wisdom" in retaining "the best coach in the world", few dared question that decision but for most ex-players, coaches and foreign journalists it defied logic or belief.

The anger now being vented at O'Sullivan may well dissipate should the team spring into action on Friday and in any event should, by rights, be directed at the IRFU decision-makers who rushed to judgment. Seemingly thinking primarily of profits, rather than rugby sense, they are the ones who should be held to account, for even if O'Sullivan did hold a gun to their heads, it could only have been a water pistol.

Regardless of the last two performances the appointments committee of Neilly Jackson, Pat Whelan and Noel Murphy, along with the three men who ratified the decision, director of rugby Eddie Wigglesworth, John Hussey and CEO Philip Browne, made a risibly premature decision. No one else in the union knew about it. There was no need for it.

The World Cup is the one true, four- yearly test on a level playing field. As we said in these pages, it was akin to granting a student an A+ before sitting his finals.

This new, recently more successful generation of Ireland players despise the notion that they can't cope with the pressure of their own and the public's expectations, although there has been compelling evidence thus far that this is so. Their body language at times looks dreadful. The mood is apparently downbeat. Training is not a barrel of laughs. They look like they need a good old-fashioned piss-up. And thinking back to jam-packed hotel foyers in Melbourne four years ago, rather than a corporate lunch with overweight millionaires and union blazers, they'd be better off renewing acquaintances with their fans.

Likewise, they detest the hoary old theory that the Irish mentality is better suited to being underdogs, but maybe there will be something to it, maybe the criticism after so much praise will also sting them into anger.

When asked if France could put four tries on Ireland this Friday, Namibia's Natal Sharks prop and captain Kees Lensing said: "Yea, definitely. I must just say that I think the French are a much better outfit. I think they're a better coached side and if they just stick to their game plan, I personally believe they're just more skilled, more solid and are a better bunch of players than Ireland."

On form, Lensing is justified in his view, but in a curious way, the Ireland players might love hearing that.

And, though they might struggle to believe it at the moment, everybody still loves them and clings to the hope that they can rediscover their true selves.