LONG READ Why history tells us Japan could be a fork in the road for an Ireland team in transition

In the defining moments of this Irish rugby decade, Japan have always been there. Not politely. Not in the way a visitor might knock and wait. Instead they have arrived with the sort of mischievous grin that makes you wonder if they’re about to rearrange the furniture while you’re not looking.

It was Japan who signalled the beginning of the end for Joe Schmidt in 2019; Japan who sparked the end of the beginning for Andy Farrell. And, here they are again, the Brave Blossoms passing by while Ireland pauses at another crossroads, blinking at the options like someone who has just realised their GPS has lied to them again.

There’s always the temptation to read too much into one defeat, especially when your conquerors are New Zealand, the kind of team that doesn’t just beat you—they remind you why you play in the first place. But Ireland’s 26-13 loss in Chicago last weekend was not an isolated incident. Since the 2023 World Cup, they have been sliding. Not catastrophically but perceptibly, like a rugby ball slipping out of your grasp at exactly the wrong moment.

Last November the All Blacks outclassed them. That was then followed by narrow three-point wins over Argentina and Australia, where it felt that Ireland were holding on while praying the universe wouldn’t notice.

Then came the Six Nations. France humiliated them. Italy came close to doing the same.

Which brings us to this weekend. Ireland, whether they want to admit it or not, are once again at a fork in the road. The post-World Cup exodus of Johnny Sexton, Cian Healy, Conor Murray, Keith Earls, and Peter O’Mahony has left a hole that numbers alone can’t fill. These were five centurions with a rugby IQ so dense it should have had its own postal code.
When all five were there, Ireland were famous for their game-management. Last Saturday, they fluffed their lines.

Enter Japan into the conversation. Or, more accurately, re-enter Japan. They have a habit of showing up at moments like these—the sliding doors moments, the ones where the story shifts without fanfare but leaves a mark. In 2019, they were supposed to be a doorway you pushed through without breaking stride, a step toward a World Cup quarter-final against the Springboks. But Japan had their own plans. They trailed 12-3 in that World Cup pool match but played with a grin that made the scoreboard irrelevant. At full time, the Brave Blossoms had a 19-12 win.

“We were never less than professional in our preparation, but deep down I just don’t think we could imagine being beaten by Japan,”

Conor Murray

“We were never less than professional in our preparation, but deep down I just don’t think we could imagine being beaten by Japan,” Conor Murray wrote in Cloud Nine. Ah yes, the arrogance of expectation—the dangerous stuff that creeps up when you think the calendar has your back.

Complacency, in other words, a subtle, dangerous beast. Johnny Sexton picks up the theme in Obsessed. The day before the game, he handed jerseys to World Cup debutants alongside Rob Kearney. Later, Schmidt pulled him aside, leadership group in tow, and they discussed hotels for the quarter-final.

“This was an unnecessary loss of focus,” Sexton wrote. “I mentioned to Faz and Besty that I sensed complacency.”

A small error, perhaps. But Japan had made Ireland their World Cup final, and they played it like it.

“Some of their offloading was sensational,” Sexton recalled.

This is Murray: “They were manic with intensity, and we just couldn’t cope. We were gobsmacked. They were brilliant.”

That loss lingered throughout the remainder of Ireland’s World Cup, like a bruise you don’t notice until you stretch the wrong way. The world tilted a little. Japan topped the pool, Ireland reunited with the All Blacks and got thumped.

A 60-5 win over Japan, the most complete performance of Farrell’s early tenure. Not just the scoreline, but how it was won: fast, aggressive, skilful, free. Seven of the pack, 12 starters, from Leinster.

Another World Cup quarter-final exit happened on Schmidt’s watch. He was gone. Farrell stepped in. But at first, it felt like a step too far. Losses piled up: two in the 2020 Six Nations, two more at the start of the next year. By the time Japan came to the Aviva in November 2021, few were paying attention to Farrell’s team.

They should have because this was the day when things changed, this time for the better.

For starters, Andrew Porter was relocated from tighthead to his original home on the opposite side of the scrum. Jamison Gibson-Park arrived, a scrum-half capable of mimicking Japan’s manic energy. Dan Sheehan – now Ireland’s captain – earned his first cap.

The result? A 60-5 win, the most complete performance of Farrell’s early tenure. Not just the scoreline, but how it was won: fast, aggressive, skilful, free. Seven of the pack, 12 starters, from Leinster. Farrell had tossed old rules about provincial representation out the window. Speed and athleticism mattered more than birthplaces.

What followed was remarkable: a win over the All Blacks a week later, four wins out of five in the following Six Nations, a historic series victory in New Zealand in the summer of 2022, a grand slam in 2023, and a solid World Cup, even if they fell at the quarter-final stage. And all of it, somehow, traced back to the day Farrell changed tact against the Japanese in the Aviva.

And now we are here again. Japan again. A crossroads again.

Since the 2023 World Cup, Ireland have been good rather than great. A 1-1 draw in South Africa in 2024, a Six Nations title, a Triple Crown this year. Still a very good side—but the edge of greatness has ebbed. The All Blacks proved that in Soldier Field last Saturday, an issue Sexton spoke about on Tuesday: “There’s always going to be a bit of transition when you lose the number of caps and experience that we have in probably the key positions. … Like, (Cian Healy, Peter O’Mahony, myself, Keith Earls, Conor Murray) that’s probably, I don’t know for exactly, but close to 600 caps.

“You take that out of the building, there’s going to be teething. But there wasn’t a problem when they won the Six Nations in 2024… The results in the other games were quite good, but the performance against Italy wasn’t great… A couple of good wins and a couple of good performances will change the narrative pretty quick, I’m sure.”

The narrative is what matters. Japan has always known this. Ireland has always learned it the hard way. And Saturday, once again, will be another lesson—or another turning point.