Why Andrew Porter’s honesty matters more than the defeat itself.
When a Test match turns into a scrum horror show, the blame game usually starts online. But this time, Andrew Porter got there first.
Speaking openly about Ireland’s bruising clash with South Africa, the Leinster prop didn’t hide behind excuses. He didn’t point at the referee. He didn’t dilute the reality. Instead, he said the one line most players avoid after a tough night in the tight: “A lot of it’s on me.”
For a front-rower operating at the highest level, that admission is massive. And it tells you exactly where Ireland stand right now — and what needs to change before they face the Springboks, All Blacks or France again.
The night the Springboks set the scrum narrative early
From the first couple of engagements, it was clear the Springboks had stamped their authority. Andrew Porter explains it simply: Ireland had a plan, South Africa had a plan — and only one survived contact.
Ireland sought tempo, clarity and clean exits. South Africa brought the usual:
relentless power, supreme timing, and a bench capable of resetting the platform for another 40 minutes.
Once a few early calls went the Boks’ way, Porter says it felt like the picture was “set” in the referee’s mind. And against a side as physically dominant as the Springboks, once they own the picture, they own everything.
That’s how quickly a Test match can unravel.
‘Bad day at the office’ — and a rare admission of responsibility
Most elite players hide behind the shield of “collective responsibility.”
Andrew Porter didn’t.
He repeatedly owned the performance. He balanced that honesty with reminders that a scrum is an eight-man unit, but he refused to dilute his part in the collapse.
That tells you a lot about his standards:
- He protects his teammates
- He understands what referees actually see
- He holds himself to a world-class benchmark regardless of outcome
For fans who question whether players feel the hurt — this should end the debate.
When laptops and slow-mo clips aren’t enough
Porter gives a fascinating look inside half-time adjustments. Analysts appear with laptops. Forwards huddle. The pack tries to decode, adjust and fix issues within minutes.
But this is Test rugby. Solutions don’t always arrive on time.
Against the Springboks, you don’t get ten scrums to figure it out. You might get two. And if those don’t go well, the referee will not give you a third chance.
Porter’s honesty about that is refreshing: sometimes, you simply run out of time.
The power of perception: when history scrummages with you
One of the most revealing parts of Andrew Porter’s reflection is about the psychology of scrummaging.
He acknowledges what many props whisper: referees enter big Tests with an idea of which team traditionally dominates. Right now, nothing casts a longer shadow than the Springbok scrum — a weapon that has bullied England, smothered France and even steamrolled the All Blacks.
Porter never cries conspiracy. But he understands the reality:
reputation scrummages alongside the front row.
If the early scrums go against you, that reputation grows heavier.
Better to break now than break later
Porter has a wider perspective than the average player — shaped by personal battles far beyond rugby. That’s why he says something Ireland fans might not expect:
This was the right time to be exposed.
A meltdown in November is painful but useful. A meltdown in the Six Nations or a World Cup knockout would be fatal. The Springboks didn’t just overpower Ireland — they highlighted every flaw that still needs tightening before the next elite showdown.
And the fact that their loosehead is publicly taking ownership sets the tone for how Ireland will respond.
Honesty is Ireland’s best weapon
What makes Andrew Porter’s comments powerful is that they fit the person, not just the player. This is someone who has already spoken about grief, mental health and rebuilding his life from scratch. Hard conversations don’t scare him.
So when he says he needs to change things, you believe him.
The Springboks won the physical and psychological battles that night. But Ireland still have a weapon of their own: a loosehead prop who refuses to hide.
And sometimes, the first step to fixing a broken scrum is simple:
acknowledging it broke.
