An odd and recurring feature of Ireland’s play in recent times is the late-game collapse whereby the team just runs out of puff around the hour mark and cannot be revived. Sure, no joined-up 23-man gameplan has something to do with it, but it’s still intriguing, and worth looking at.

The first question to ask is, are Ireland’s players simply unfit, in what would be a throwback to the old days when beer-soaked Irishmen could not sustain a test match beyond the 60th minute.  But it doesn’t hold up.

Examining the provinces, Munster have virtually trademarked late-game revivals, and the tear-soaked endgames where Northampton, Castres, London Irish, Embra (to name but a few in recent years) have succumbed to the will of the men in red in the red zone are classic examples. Leinster in recent seasons have at times slowed up in second halves, but usually as a result of being out of sight by half time (Bath, Cardiff last season), and when the going is tough, are usually adroit at seeing out the final quarter. Ulster have less of a record, but the defensive shift in Thomond Park stands out, and they will (assuredly) have more as time goes on.

So the constituent players frequently grow in stature in the fourth quarter, yet the national collective wilt – what does that tell you? The most obvious conclusion is that the provincial coaches are more productive with their use of their bench – frequently selecting players for their off the bench impact and using them intelligently.

Leinster have specialist high-impact reserves in Heinke van der Merwe, Sean Cronin and Isaac Boss, and they form a crucial part of the gameplan, and the likes of Paul Marshall has frequently given Ulster pep off the bench.  Ireland have struggled with this aspect of the game under both Eddie O’Sullivan and Declan Kidney, and substitution strategy (such as it is) seems perfunctory and forced rather than planned.  The idea of an entire front row playing 80 full minutes in the modern era would be guffawed out of town by France, England or South Africa, but Ireland are still at it.

We crunched the numbers from the beginning of 2011 against in full Tests (i.e. not USA, Russia or the A game vs Fiji), and it’s stark:

• In 15 Six Nations games, Ireland’s first half record is W11 L4 (losses: Italy in Rome 2011 & 2013 and England in Twickers 2012 and Fortress Aviva 2013), while their second half record is W4 D1 L10 (wins: Italy and England 2011, Italy and Scotland 2012. draw: England 2013)
• Essentially, we have been ahead of France and Wales at half-time in every Six Nations game since 2011
• In the 12 other games (3 RWC11, 4 RWC warm-ups, 3 games in NZ, 2 November internationals), Ireland’s first-half record is W5 D1 L6 (wins vs Scotland in RWC warm-up, Italy in RWC, NZ in Christchurch, SA & Argentina last November and draw vs Australia in RWC) and the second half record is a very similar W5 L7 (wins vs France in 2 RWC warm-ups, Australia and Italy in RWC, and Argentina in November)

The difference between Six Nations and non-Six Nations games is notable, but perhaps one driver is that over for all games, the difference get worse over time, so the inclusion of this years Six Nations skews the stats a little. Here are the games broken down by year:

• In 2011, Ireland were W6 D1 L5 at half time, and W6 L6 after half-time
• In 2012, Ireland were W5 L3 at half time, and W2 L6 after half-time
• In 2013 to date, Ireland were W3 L2 at half time, and D1 L4 after half-time

An obvious and heartening corollary is this – the next Ireland coach has one really really easy win – get the team (and by team we mean the 23) playing for 80 minutes and results will (assuredly) improve – Ireland would have challenged for the Six Nations championships for the last three years if games ended at half-time, and would have a win in New Zealand under their belts.

This is something of the frustration of following Ireland – we show the ability to live with the best, but they show the ability to let us blow out and then slap us down. What is the difference? Do Ireland lack that extra 2% that the best teams have? If they do, a fresh and better-defined coaching staff might help us get there – the tired mish-mash at present is (assuredly) not working.

We said before the tournament that four wins would constitute a good year, with three the minimum requirement. In the event, Ireland finished well below that watermark, with one win and one draw. That the win was against the eventual champions was scant consolation, and we can be thankful we didn’t meet the confident incisive Welsh of Week Five, instead the cowed losers of Week One.

The final indignity was the tactical ineptitude of Rome where Plan A – box-kicking until the cows come home – was dealt with with ease by the Azzurri, then Plan B – errrrr, kicking them? – didn’t work either, and their forwards pummeled us to win with ease. A fair reflection of the dominance of the Italian pack would have been a 20 point margin. In the event, the inability of the Italians to press home their advantage, and their inability to stop throwing the ball forward spared us the shame of finishing last, but no-one will be boasting about that.

For sure, unavailability of certain players played a part – the lineout was shambolic in Paul O’Connell’s absence, and the tendency of our forwards to powder-puffery would surely have been dealt with by Fez. Likewise, having Johnny Sexton in Murrayfield might have made the difference. It’s hard to think of any Irish player who will feel he can be satisfied with his overall contribution. Some of the players playing their first tournament, particularly Luke Marshall and Iain Henderson, will be proud of themselves as well.

The indisciplined and brainless rabble who finished the championship are far from where they should be given the on-field and off-field resources available to this side – the team in Rome looked essentially uncoached, and it’s quite clear a new broom is sorely needed. The prospect of promoting Les Kiss or Anthony Foley from within looks wildly misjudged.  Surely a new set of voices, untainted by the recent spirit-crushing shambles, with fresh ideas and a different mindset are required?  The line being peddled by Kidney’s apologists, that the current management have ‘valuable corporate knowledge’ that shouldn’t be thrown out is laughable.  What value is corporate knowledge when you keep losing?  Indeed, the very lack of preconceptions for a new coach coming in sounds much more appealing.

The player management system would appear to have reached the end of its current life cycle as well – Johnny Sexton bemoaned the lack of rugby he could play earlier in the year due to its strictures, and the spate of injuries surely speaks to some level of sub-optimal conditioning. While some degree of control over player game-time is desirable, the strings need to be loosened significantly.  At the very least a review of this is required, with a view to understanding whether the players gain anything a t all from playing so little.

Likewise, the central contracting system is just unclear and divisive – criteria are muddled, and a broader view is needed in this, the 18th season of professional rugby. We know as little as everybody else as to how these contracts are given out.  The system was perfect to entice English-based players home in the late 1990s, and protect what was then a handful of international class players, but something more malleable is needed now.  The situation where the IRFU are negotiating with an injured player – recently the case with Ferris, Fitzgerald and some time ago with Denis Leamy – is only going to become more commonplace, and a more flexible system is needed to accomodate this.  It cannot be that players recovering from serious injury are just cut loose from the system, although some levity is required here too, and the IRFU has a responsibility to manage its finances correctly.

Speaking of English-based players in the late 1990s, the last defeat to Italy, as we outlined here, was something of a watershed in Irish rugby, and contributed the IRFU to be pro-active about professionalism – here’s hoping this one can turn out to be a turning point as well, and be the catalyst to moving Irish rugby’s governance and structures in line with best professional practice. We could do a lot worse than copying the system in New Zealand – we may not have the history and strength in depth they have, but their structures produce success at all levels (underage, Super Rugby, international) and they want to be the best they can at all times. We should as well.

This post is from our regular column in the Irish Post, the highest-selling newspaper for the Irish in Britain (which these days includes businessmen, lawyers and doctors, as well as pint-sized jockeys flanked by airline executives). The paper is published on Wednesday’s in Britain.

When you’re hot you’re hot they say, and when you’re not you’re not. And right now Declan Kidney is not. Indeed the poor fellow can’t catch a break. His Ireland team have become experts at losing winning positions, while the mounting injury toll makes next week’s trip to Rome especially daunting. Italy looked resurgent in Sunday’s game against England and will take confidence from the way they took the game to the White Orcs. It’s their best chance for a two win series in some time. For Ireland, defeat would mean a probable, almost unthinkably awful, wooden spoon.

How has it come to this? It was a campaign that promised much – don’t they all? – but Ireland have stumbled from crisis to crisis and, unfortunately, from injury to injury. The old adage is that it’s better to be a lucky general than a good one, but right now Kidney is neither.

He can’t do much about Ireland’s savage injury toll. With these matters it’s tempting to say that everyone else has the same experience, but this appears to be far from the case. England have the odd injury, but appear to be getting more players available for selection the longer the tournament goes on. Last week they brought long term absentee Tom Croft back into action. The rest of the teams are in relatively good health.

Ireland, by contrast, have been missing no less than four wings at various points over the series, with Fergus McFadden the latest to be ruled out. He joins a long list of casualties, including injured-again Johnny Sexton, Paul O’Connell, Stephen Ferris, Tommy Bowe, Simon Zebo and Gordon D’arcy. Meanwhile, several other players will be walking wounded this week, and Donnacha Ryan appears to be playing through the pain barrier.

On this we can have some sympathy with Kidney and his team but those looking to excuse results in light of the injuries need to remember the almost freakish good luck Kidney had in his most celebrated achievements.  In the 2009 grand slam, Ireland could select the XV they wanted in every single match.  Indeed, Kidney had the luxury of rotating his squad to make four changes in the penultimate game of the series, a potentially trick tie in Scotland.  It was canny management, bringing vital squad players like Rory Best, Peter Stringer and Denis Leamy into the thick of things, to make them feel a greater part of the action.  And the changes were only in positions where Kidney knew the selections were marginal in the first place, and that he wasn’t losing much by changing.  It had the desired effect in ensuring minds were focussed on the trip to Murrayfield, and the danger that some players might be thinking ahead to the week after, a Grand slam finale in Cardiff, was averted.  It also succeeded in getting up Jamie Heaslip’s nostrils, and coaxing a huge contribution out of him when he came off the bench in Murrayfield (as an early injury replacement, as it happens).  But what a luxury to be able to do it!  Almost unthinkable that it could happen under today’s circumstances.

The good fortune extended beyond injuries, not least in the final dénouement, where Gavin Henson was passed over for the chance to kick a winning penalty, not so much based on a lack of ability, but seemingly because he was such a pain even his team-mates didn’t want to have to have to endure his preening should he convert the kick.  Instead, the ball was given to Stephen Jones, fatigued after 80 minutes of rugby and never with the biggest boot in the first place.  His kick fell just short and the rest, as they say, was history.

Kidney’s other great achievement, his tactically astute win over Australia in the World Cup was also a case of stars lining up for the coach.  Australia suffered two very late injuries, with Benn Robinson, their only capable scrummager, and David Pocock, their breakdown-dominating openside, ruled out just hours before kick-off.  This was compounded by the rain pouring down on Eden Park.  Cian Healy and Mike Ross had their finest moments for Ireland, laying waste to the Australian scrum, and without Pocock, Australia were clueless in loose play, walking into one choke tackle after another.  But just weeks later, the full scale of how Ireland would struggle to cope against a breakdown-marauding No.7 was baldly exposed, when Sam Warburton dominated that facet of the game in the quarter-final.  Had Pocock played, how differently might things have panned out?

Sympathy is further eroded by how Kidney has deployed his able-bodied men.  It’s one thing having to withdraw players due to injury, but the removal of Conor Murray from the fray with 20 minutes to go on Saturday’s game against France looks like the last nail in the coffin of Kidney’s coaching tenure.  Murray was controlling the game, with his accurate box-kicking consistently resulting in territorial gains for Ireland, but he was pulled ashore and replaced by Eoin Reddan.  It was all the more baffling, because Kidney has never shown any inclination to favour Reddan in the past.  There have been plenty of games that looked made for Reddan’s skillset, but he has invariably been overlooked.  Then he is called into action on a rainy day when the gameplan was entirely at odds with the strengths Reddan brings to proceedings.

When your luck runs dry, it seems, the temptation is to make wild, miscalculated gambles.  It’s been that sort of series, and unfortunately for Ireland, none of them have come off.