Brian O'Driscoll's World Cup Diary Agonising. It's a bit clichéd to venture that occasionally there's a fine line between winning and losing in sport but after Saturday's game, it arguably sums up our feelings. There was huge disappointment in the dressing-room after the match, a palpable sense of anti-climax.
When you're involved in matches like that and come out on the losing side, it's very hard to reconcile the fact that the team might have played well or perhaps deserved to win. The only thing that really matters is the scoreboard and that showed Australia had beaten us by a point. I now know how the Argentinians felt last week.
To borrow another cliché, we threw the kitchen sink at Australia and the cutlery, chairs and table as well but it just wasn't meant to be. Obviously after a game like that you'll reflect on little things you might have done differently but those matches are decided by a rub.
If David Humphreys drop-goal had been an inch to the left then we'd be celebrating a famous victory and anticipating a quarter-final against Scotland: as things stand we'll take on the French in what should be another titanic tussle.
It was a remarkable day from the beginning. Out hotel was absolutely mobbed. When the team arrived in the lobby from the team room en route to the match, a deafening roar greeted us; the place was going mad. It was like the Lions all over again, only better. It was probably a combination of the sauce and the excitement with the fans but it was certainly serious goose-bumps time and there was a tear or two on a few faces.
Keith (Wood) spoke at the team meeting about how we hadn't shown what this team was capable of and how we were on a freebie, having already assured our place in the quarter-finals. He mentioned giving it everything we had and enjoying it in the process.
I think we fulfilled that brief.
The atmosphere is the stadium was incredible, one of the most memorable I have ever come across. The din with the roof closed was deafening and we had to scream at each other during the match to make ourselves heard. The support we received was phenomenal and when you're tired and sore, it exhorts you to give more and more.
At half-time Eddie (O'Sullivan) told us to keep doing what we were doing, putting them under pressure and try to play the game in their half. Make the tackles and when we had the ball look to stretch them. We had them within our sights.
Our second-half performance was as good as we've managed for quite some time. We lived in their half and they barely got a sniff or ours after the first 10 minutes.
As far as the try was concerned, I knew I'd scored beyond a shadow of a doubt. I ran back to the halfway line. There were of course a few doubting Thomases but I was happy it would be awarded.
It was a marvellous bit of skill by JK (John Kelly) to not only hold the first pass but time his own pass to me beautifully. It bamboozled Wendell Sailor and I was nearly taken by surprise. To have something that you've worked hard on at training come off was a great buzz.
We've practised sweeping late to change direction from a ruck and there was almost something telepathic about the way JK and myself took off at the same time. The drop-goal may not have been a thing of beauty but it was definitely in the eye of the beholder from an Irish perspective.
The flight path resembled a winged duck but I have scored with uglier models and watched perfectly struck efforts drift wide. We needed to come away with a score after the sustained pressure we had exerted. Matt Williams would fine me a fair bit for trying drop-goals but I'd happily take a $10 hit after Saturday.
The incident with George Smith was embarrassing. He handed me off once and I would have gone low at the second bite but knew he was going to offload the ball. I went to slap his hand out of the way and then just tried to grab a handful of jersey. I must have turned my head slightly to brace for the impact as I was sure I'd latched onto the jersey.
I was mortified to find dreadlocks in my hand. In fairness to George he didn't make too much of it but I knew straight away it would be a penalty.
The final whistle had a kind of numbing effect, where you suddenly feel tired and sore and the disappointment hits you immediately. The Australian players didn't show too much emotion at the final whistle, impossible to read too much into their body language. But there must have been a few sweaty brows in their changing-room.
It's funny but the preamble to Saturday's Test was very calm, the week one of the most relaxing. We were just looking forward to the game. There were one or two lighter moments and it would be fair to say that Shaggy (Shane Horgan) and myself are made to feel most welcome at the Crown casino, although I'm not sure that's a good thing.
Mal (Malcolm O'Kelly) provided a sparkling moment after the match. Standing in his birthday suit he stepped forward to greet the Australian Prime Minister John Howard who had come into our dressing-room. Mal ventured: "Jeez, I've never met the president of a country before."
Only that the mood was so sombre, I think the place would have erupted in giggles.
Our attention will turn to France this morning. Last Saturday is now history and it's fair to say we'll be remembered more for our next performance.
France are obviously an excellent side, playing well and the week will take a familiar pattern that will include extensive video analysis.
The Australia game proved we can compete with the best sides in the world, anywhere, and next Sunday will give us another chance to prove that, only this time we must make sure we finish on the right side of the scoreline.
In an interview with John OSulllivan
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