Gavin Henson: My Grand Slam Year. Gavin Henson
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in the whole of the Six Nations because a couple of days later he would be voted the player of the tournament. When Ireland gave away another penalty, and Steve put it over, we had pushed our lead up to 22–6. It hadn’t been the same flurry of tries as against the Scots. We had needed to accumulate our points more steadily. But the effect was the same; the match was going away from the opposition and we felt in control.
Our forwards were now well on top and when Ireland did try and run at us I felt strong in the tackle. We knew another try would kill them off and when it came it was a good one. We drove through a couple of phases and then the call was for me to have the ball from Stephen. But fair play to Steve, he noticed the Irish defence had drifted early and so instead of picking out me he gave the ball to Tom Shanklin. Ireland’s midfield were not anticipating that. They thought the ball was coming my way. Tom had picked such a great angle – really straight – that he just burst through them. If a defence is on the drift and you blast through on a hard angle it causes panic. That’s what happened. Shanks went through and had the presence of mind to off-load to Kevin Morgan who raced over.
It was an awesome try and maybe the one moment in that match when we created something off the cuff that was more typical of the way we like to play. I was so far behind play after the dummy run I could see the hole opening up for Shanks. He gave it to ‘Rat’ and there was no stopping him. Steve’s conversion made it 29–6 with 20 minutes still to go. I think it was also a significant try for Tom. He had been talked about as a possible Lions tourist before the game but it was that try which probably clinched his trip. I really enjoy playing alongside Shanks. He’s very solid, reads the game well, and I felt he had a superb championship. He would certainly have been in my Lions party, regardless of that break. But it was such a great moment it had everyone talking about him.
I was also really pleased for Kevin Morgan. Rat had gone through a terrible time with injuries but showed great courage and determination to come all the way back. No-one was more deserving of a championship medal. He was very unlucky not to go on the Lions tour as he is an excellent full-back and he seems to be even quicker now than he was before his knee problems.
Ireland then came back at us, but I think we took our foot off the gas. Their prop, Marcus Horan, who had come on as a replacement, went over as we slacked off a bit in defence. There was no panic, though. We went straight back on the attack and Steve kicked another penalty to make it 32–13. But we did drop off a little in the last few minutes. It’s somehow inevitable when you think you’ve got the game won. At Test level you only need to drop your efforts by half a per cent and teams will make you pay. It happened in the last half hour against Scotland and it happened in the final few minutes against Ireland. With four minutes left they scored a second try through their full-back, Geordan Murphy, another player I would get to know on the Lions tour later that year.
That encounter was a strange one, though. Murphy had the ball and I thought he was going to dive early so I slid in to try and make him dive on my legs, in the hope he might spill the ball. Instead, he kept on running and scored anyway. He stumbled a little and it must have looked from some angles as though I had tripped him. In fact, we hadn’t made contact. Murphy was fine about it, and didn’t make a meal of things, which I was grateful for as I feared I might get a yellow card. But O’Driscoll came running over and started shouting abuse again. ‘You’re a fucking wanker!’ Weird. They’d just scored a try. I just looked at him and he carried on swearing and pointing over. Then, just as suddenly as he’d come over, he was off again.
It didn’t really make much difference – the try or the reaction. We were still 12 points ahead and there was no way we were going to let it slip. But we did slack off, no doubt about it. And that’s something we have to work on. Against England we stopped playing, we relaxed against the Italians after building up a big lead, in Paris the French came back because we sat on our advantage, we allowed Scotland to save face, and now Ireland had given us a little scare because of the same problem. That’s the one thing I really admire about the All Blacks. They are totally ruthless. They are far more likely to rub your nose in it than slack off. We haven’t got the same attitude. Maybe it’s because quite a few players in this Welsh squad are not used to winning against the better teams. When we are in a winning position, we tend to reflect on it during the match itself, rather than concentrate on increasing the winning margin.
I know I’m guilty of it. I’m hoping that I’ll become more ruthless as I get more used to success.
But I don’t think Ireland really threatened to upset the outcome in those final minutes. We had no real concerns. We won 32–20. The final whistle went and I felt a weird combination of intense relief and uncontrollable excitement. All the pressure I’d felt all week seemed to flow out of me and I felt quite tired. Incredibly happy that we had won the Grand Slam, but tired, too. The match had been all about winning. It had been a long, hard campaign and we had come through a lot together as a group. If it had ended on the wrong note then it would have been so deflating.
We hugged each other and smiled. We’d done it. All the questions asked during the week-long build-up had been answered. I was keen to get on with the presentation. I wanted to lift the trophy. I wanted to see the fireworks and watch the champagne corks pop. When it came to the moment, it felt really good. It felt as though we were Manchester United and we had just won the Champions League. I’d watched that kind of thing and always wondered what it felt like. Now, I knew. Michael Owen and Gareth Thomas picked up the Six Nations trophy together – the match day captain and the tournament captain. We got our medals, each got our hands on the trophy, and did a lap of honour. The fans were ecstatic and so were we. It’s difficult to describe what a high I was on. We went back to the dressing rooms and there were photographers and more champagne. It was quite a scene. Everyone was hugging and shaking hands, but there were a lot of tired bodies as well. Even so, I think all the boys showered and changed just a little more quickly than usual. Then, some of the players’ family members came in to say well done.
I met up with Charlotte at the after-match dinner before all the players, plus wives and girlfriends, went to a function laid on by Brains, the brewers who had become our shirt sponsors. Needless to say, the beer was on them. We enjoyed a great night and it felt good to be together in celebration with the same guys I had been alongside for so many weeks. Like the rest of Cardiff, and the rest of Wales, we made sure the party went on long into the night and I eventually made it back to the team hotel at about 5am.
The next morning I had hoped to spend recovering from the night before. But after doing all the media interviews there was a call from the team management to be ready to board the bus by noon. It appeared the celebrations were still in full swing. I had a horrible hangover but managed to get my head together after a few bottles of water and limped onto the team bus. I was wrecked. We were driven into the centre of Cardiff and dropped at a bar called The Yard, a pub owned by Brains on the site of their old brewery headquarters. Downstairs were punters who looked as if they hadn’t been to bed from the night before, but we were ushered upstairs and into another private party.
I’m not really a big drinker. In fact, I can comfortably go for a couple of months without a single drink. Every once in a while, I like to let my hair down a bit with a few mates, and then I’ll be back into strict training mode and I won’t touch another drop for the next few weeks. So, two heavy sessions in successive days is not something I’m very used to – or much good at. It wasn’t long before all the players were playing drinking games to get in the mood and not very long at all before I was completely smashed. This was a players’ only deal. No wives. No girlfriends. So it was all a bit macho and a bit excessive to say the least. The trouble with stupid drinking games is that if you lose you have to drink more. Then, you are even more drunk and so you lose again. After a little while, I was gone – completely steaming. I dropped a glass and everything after that is a bit of a blur. I was told everything else the next morning as I don’t remember any of it. It was suggested I go home – not a bad idea, all things considered – but as I left I verbally abused a couple of bouncers. Some pictures were taken by a woman who seemed to have gatecrashed the party, there was a bit of a scuffle, and I ended up being given a lift home by the police. Luckily, one of my mates had turned up and he was able to look after me.
The next morning, after I’d cleared up the mess