It has been four years since the Farrells first squared off against each other. Andy took over as Ireland’s defence coach in 2016 and ever since, whenever the Six Nations rolls around, he has had to drill his team in how to best stop England’s current captain, and playmaker, his son Owen. So far they are even-stevens, with two wins each, but this year it is a little different, that much sharper, because Andy has taken over as Ireland’s head coach. It is a game of father-son ping-pong, played out in front of a crowd of tens of thousands, a family ding-dong on live TV, a relationship, a rivalry, unlike any other in sport.
And before Andy’s Ireland face Owen’s England at Twickenham next Sunday, they are not talking about it.
Which figures. Because while the family dynamic seems endlessly fascinating to everyone else, the Farrells themselves are bored rigid by our questions. And besides, they have both been around the game long enough to know that there is not a lot to be gained from discussing it in public. “Honestly, I’ve not even thought about it,” said Andy after his Ireland team beat Wales in Dublin last weekend. Over in Edinburgh Owen, too, got asked. “Every time we’ve played Ireland since my dad’s been there I’ve been asked questions about that,” he said. “I can’t see this being too different.” And no, it doesn’t make any difference that his dad is head coach, whatever the rest of us think. “We’re just trying to do our job.”
Well, you would need a coping mechanism, wouldn’t you? And family therapy can be awfully expensive. The Farrells came up with theirs a long time ago. They keep everything strictly compartmentalised. One could see it in 2008, when Owen made his debut for his father’s club, Saracens, in a pre-season friendly against Western Force. They were both on the bench. Andy got on first. Then he broke a bone and had to come off. He was replaced by his son. “He wasn’t bothered about my injury,” Andy said afterwards. “I couldn’t really think about anything else other than my job,” Owen explained. “I just had to get out here and do my job.”
Spoken like a true pro. Which is just how Andy raised him. Owen was always around the training pitch, and the changing room, at Wigan and Saracens, watching, learning, while his father won all those matches and medals. Andy was so young when he became a father at 16 that people who know them both say they sometimes seemed as much like brothers as they did father and son.
Back then they were not so bored with talking about all this, opening up about their relationship in an interview with World Rugby. “We’re very competitive, yeah,” Andy said. “He says he never lets me win but I always win anyway,” Owen chipped in. “Nah,” Andy contradicted him. “He never wins anything. Even playing tiddlywinks tomorrow I would never let him win. But I think it’s getting to that stage though now where I have to be on my toes.” Owen grinned at him: “It was at that stage five years ago”. Andy shot back: “No it was not!”
They say the 44-year-old Andy is the better golfer, Owen the better table tennis player and that neither is willing to admit being worse at either. As for who is the better rugby player, there is nothing between them. If Andy has an idea of weakness in Owen’s game, do not think for a minute that he would hesitate to exploit it because, if Owen sees a weakness in how Andy would set up his team, he would do exactly the same. That is the job.
There really is nothing else quite like it. There are plenty of fathers and sons who played the same sport, a few who worked together on the same teams, sometimes as players, sometimes as coaches, but there are not so many who have come up against each other.
In football Noah Gunnar Solskjær made his professional debut in a friendly against his father’s team last summer, when Kristiansund played Manchester United in a friendly, and in the NFL, the Denver Broncos’ head coach Mike Shanahan used to square off against the Tampa Bay Buccaneers, where his son, Kyle, was as an assistant coach for the offence.
But the closest parallel is in the NBA, where Doc Rivers, head coach of the LA Clippers, has to coach his team to play against his son Austin, shooting guard for the Houston Rockets. Just like the Farrells, they used to be on the same team, too, until Austin got traded. And just like the Farrells they don’t see why it’s a big deal. “What’s the difference?” Austin Rivers said. “It’s not special, man.”
The Rivers have some fun with it. When the Rockets beat the Clippers 102-93 in Los Angeles last November, Doc blew up at the referees, and Austin started putting his arms together into a “T” and calling for them to hit his dad with a technical foul. They ended up sending Doc off to the stands, Austin burst out laughing, then put his hand to his ear and promised to call him later. “I knew it was coming,” Austin said. “I’ve seen that look before many times. Once he starts blinking his eyes fast, that’s when I know he’s about to level up.”
It sounds as though they are one of the few families around who really understand what the Farrells are going through.