LONG READ Lions 2025: ‘Lights, cameras...action’

So, what did we make of ‘The Lions: Live and Dangerous’ at the O2 last week? Did it work? 100%. It was bright, breezy and at £60 a pop, the meat in the room gave full value for money, albeit with their own cash. But could the Lions do it better next time? Again, 100%, most notably by goosing it up a little. The suspense was very nearly fatal.

Alfred Hitchcock’s working maxim was that there was no terror in the bang, only in the anticipation of it. But even he recognised that there are limits to how long an audience can be left waiting for the bomb to go off. Half-an-hour in last Thursday and – God help us – already a commercial break to the good, all I’d written down on my virgin, white notepad with my viciously sharpened pencil were four words. GET. ON. WITH. IT. In truth, I’d actually written five words but only four are printable.

Look, we get that these things require a little context; dare one say, a measure of foreplay. And I’m sure the Whitechapel mural’s going to look just dandy; a cute idea and an even cuter puff for the sponsors. But given we know the Lions’ sacraments – the honour, the privilege, the pinnacle, the glorious four-in-one anachronism, the ‘oooh, you beauty’ – I’m not sure we needed to hear every single one of them recited yet again. Just cut to the chase, chaps, and give us the squad.

I adore the Lions but I’m not sure why these announcements pussyfoot around to the extent they often do. Back in 2017, the Tour Manager, John Spencer, rose to his feet, walked like a barge of state to his rostrum with the list of the chosen cattle and surveyed a vast, sardine-tin of an auditorium in which, in all probability, he was the only one actually breathing. ‘Before I announce the 2017 squad to tour New Zealand,’ he said. ‘I’d just like to thank our sponsors.’ There were sixteen of them and they all got a plug.

Guys, we’ve been ranting and wrangling over this Lions’ team almost since the day the last one flew home. Every teashop and tavern in four countries has been weighing up the worth of Finn, Fin, Fordy, Darcy, Duhan and Dickie and we’re all talked out. Put us out of our misery. And while we’re there, can we not also spare a thought for Finn, Fin, Fordy, Darcy, Duhan and Dickie themselves, each of whom could’ve been forgiven for reaching for the nearest pot-plant and heaving it through their TV screens. Even I’d snapped my viciously sharpened pencil in half and, as far as I’m aware, I wasn’t even in contention.

Ben Earl’s smile was wider than a bunker rake and may well need to be removed surgically sometime between now and June.

So, it was some forty minutes before the players and the rest of us finally discovered who was who. For some, the now, traditional alphabetisation of the announcement would’ve come as a quick, if painful, release. Tadhg Bierne, for example, was the very first name read out, which, from the luckless Ryan Baird’s point of view, at least didn’t prolong his agony. But if you were Robbie Henshaw, then waiting thirty-five interminable minutes to hear – of all names – Huw Jones would’ve been a dagger through the heart given the previous pick was Mack Hansen. You absolutely feel for those guys who spent so long on tiptoe with their eyes closed yet didn’t get kissed.

But once we’d finally got the players, we finally got to the players, linkups to the four corners of the Lions’ compass, which, after all the waiting and the waffling, cut the mustard perfectly. This was what it was all about. Ben Earl’s smile was wider than a bunker rake and may well need to be removed surgically sometime between now and June. ‘It’s been a tortuous couple of weeks … the best news I’ve had in my career,’ he said. The impromptu cutaway to a trio of other Earls in the front parlour was also a delight. ‘Mum’s been crying, Dad’s been trying not to cry,’ said their boy, as Ben’s Barmy Army waved tentatively in the background. ‘I’m overwhelmed and so excited to get going.’

Up in Glasgow, Sione Tuipulotu was ready to bite the stars – ‘relieved, excitement; you can probably imagine, far out’ – whereas, down in Gloucester, Tomos Williams looked in urgent need of a blanket and a cup of hot, sweet tea. ‘The last two days, I’ve been an emotional wreck,’ he confided. ‘I’ve got to admit, I shed a tear.’ Mr and Mrs Earl were in very good company.

And then there was Mack Hansen in a glorious Galway, a man, I kid you not, who has Andy Farrell’s face tattooed on his thigh and who appeared to be heading to the Atlantic Ocean, reinforcing the impression that these guys would get to Australia any way they could. ‘I was just heading for a swim trying to clear my head,’ explained the Lions’ larrikin. ‘I’m lost for words for the first time in my life, which is good for Faz to hear. I don’t know what to say. Bundee was supposed to be doing this but he’s minding the kids.’ I don’t know about you, but I was lapping all this up with a spoon.

Whatever else he’s done, Andy Farrell has picked a cast of characters. This is going to be a fun tour, not least when Bristol and England’s Ellis Genge ends up sharing a room for a week with Bath and Scotland’s Finn Russell. Please, Lord, make it happen.

Whatever else he’s done, Andy Farrell has picked a cast of characters. This is going to be a fun tour, not least when Bristol and England’s Ellis Genge ends up sharing a room for a week with Bath and Scotland’s Finn Russell. Please, Lord, make it happen. Henry Pollock? The best compliment you can pay him is that it’d have been more of a shock had The Kid been left out. As the tour sprog, of course, he gets the honour of spending six weeks as the 24-hour guardian of the team’s cuddly toy lion. A dubious privilege? No question, not least for the lion.

But, beyond that, Farrell’s inner sanctum appears to have made a shrewd, circumspect choice. You can chunter around the fringes and a few have already done so – ‘too many past-it Irishman and way too many Scottish and Irish player passport projects that shouldn’t be eligible,’ wrote one, diehard fan – but it looks a savvy selection. An exhaustive one, too. The last i-dotting, t-crossing coaches’ meeting apparently took seven hours, which would’ve put a severe dent in the ginger nut biscuits. ‘I thought it’d take an hour,’ said Andy Farrell. ‘But look, if it was easy, then we wouldn’t be good enough.’

It’s certainly a hungry squad. 25 of the 38 have never been Lions before and even those with hefty experience – Maro Itoje, Tadhg Furlong, Elliot Daly – have never won a Test series. But what Farrell’s done is give himself options across the board. There’s ‘wiggle room’ to add extras – Owen of that ilk; maybe Manny Feyi-Waboso – and he’s picked guys who offer versatility, balance and a bench that lends itself to any split. What all this also brings is cut-throat competition.

The guy you weep for, of course, is Caelan Doris. In a sport such as this, it is in the nature of glass to break but in one afternoon, a Champions’ Cup, a Lions’ tour and, very possibly, the Lions’ captaincy, turned to shards. That’s one heavy bag of curses. But, by accident or by design, Maro Itoje is an outstanding choice as skipper. His O2 ring-walk was, understandably, a little sheepish but the earring spoke volumes and, perhaps, a non-Irish captain in a party where Ireland predominates backstage and front will add much to the mixture. True, he was on home turf but the standing ovation was both loud and lusty.

This is Farrell’s show and he’s clearly blossoming into the role. He’s developed a deft sidestep for the more inquisitive interviewers and speaks fluent, flat-voweled common-sense; a presence, a reassurance; a hard-nosed yet holistic approach.

The tone of the announcement, though, was spot on, once we finally got to it. Tour Manager, Ieuan Evans, looks set to be an urbane influence – emollient as he is, trust me, do not fight this man for his last wine gum – but this is Farrell’s show and he’s clearly blossoming into the role. He’s developed a deft sidestep for the more inquisitive interviewers and speaks fluent, flat-voweled common-sense; a presence, a reassurance; a hard-nosed yet holistic approach. Unlike one or two of his predecessors, he absolutely gets what this is all about.

So, aside from one snapped pencil, it was a lively, uplifting watch. Next time, maybe, bring down the curtain with the captain? Being served the cherry when we – and indeed he – hadn’t yet seen the cake felt odd. But it terms of polishing the profile and stirring the juices, it – eventually – hit every spot.

As for the tour itself? Presumably, it’ll go to a decisive Third Test and will be snatched for the Lions in the 81st minute with a try by Henry Pollock. Even if I saw that with my own eyes, I’m not sure I’d believe it. But I bet you, even now, it’s crossed his mind.