I prefer the Warren Gatland cut out and keep opposition team talk:
Hello Ireland. My boys are playing you this weekend so here’s just a few well considered words to save your coach the bother of motivating you.
You are Cheats!
Everyone says so. I’m going to tell the Ref on you by spending this week bleating on about how you’re all murdering ball-killers and the enemies of rugby.
All my players Hate you!
There, I’ve said it. We had a vote on who we hated the most and you won. Well actually Ronan O’Gara won, but the rest of you came second.
Brian O’Driscoll is Mortal!
The angel Gabriel did not deliver unto Mrs O’Driscoll a child: He is a normal guy. Feed him and does he not shit? This means that we’re allowed to tackle him, and he’s not allowed to spend half the game telling the Ref what his opinion should be.
I’d rather listen to Sonja McLaughlan than U2!
That’s right, the soulless microphone harpie sounds better than Bono. She makes my eyes bleed but listening to the Edge’s patented doorbell sound makes me want to thumb my eyes out of their sockets.
You’re drug-dealers!
Everyone says when the Irish come to Cardiff, the crack is always good. Crack is not good. It is a highly addictive Class A narcotic and it is a criminal offence to bring it into the country. It ruins lives and drains valuable NHS, law-enforcement and Social Care resources. Leave the crack at home.