CONNACHT begin the new season at home to the Stormers on Friday night, and the province are using the occasion to mark the 10-year anniversary of the historic Pro12 triumph at Murrayfield.
Pat Lam, the coach who masterminded that unforgettable campaign, is making the trip over from Bristol. The affable Samoan will be doing a Q&A session in one of the corporate suites in the Sportsground before the game. A number of former players will be in the vicinity, too.
Aly Muldowney, an unsung hero in the class of 2016, declined an offer to attend, however.
‘They said I could have one free ticket to enter and if I wanted any more, they might be able to get me some. Maybe at a discount.
‘So I was like, “no, you’re all right, mate,” the former Connacht lock, who made 83 appearances for the province, states.
Muldowney played 83 times for Connacht
‘Obviously, they don’t want you there. If they did, they’d make an effort because I’m sure Pat’s getting the red carpet treatment.
‘It’s what I’d expect from Connacht rugby club, to be honest. It’s not really family-orientated or about looking after players. It’s fair enough. They’re a business.
‘The only thing they had with me was a business relationship. They treated me and my family really poorly… but it’s business. They paid me and I did my job. Now they’re not paying me, so there’s no relationship.’
Now 43 and long retired from the game, Muldowney is keen to state that he isn’t bitter about his time at the province. He hails Galway as ‘God’s country’ and has nothing but good things to say about the supporters.
But he wasn’t happy about how his three-season stay in Connacht concluded.
‘I just got told one day, we’re not renewing your contract… goodbye. It would have just been nice to know why,’ he says.
‘When they know you’ve got a family and children in school and settled, it’s just the way it is. It’s business. I’m not knocking them for it.
‘But then don’t try and have a human element after because they didn’t care that we’d have to uproot, move my boys out of school and nursery. That’s the nature of the beast.’
Muldowney wasn’t happy with how it ended
When Muldowney’s comments were put to Connacht, a spokesman said, ‘the club have no comment to make on any matter.’ There were great memories on the field, mind.
The 2016 triumph was unquestionably the pinnacle. It’s worth remembering how mad that year actually was. We had Brexit, Leicester City winning the Premier League and Ireland beating the All Blacks at Soldier Field. And then Connacht went and won a first league trophy in their history, 13 years after the IRFU tried to pull the plug on the entire operation.
And Connacht won that title in style. Do yourself a favour and go back and watch the highlights of the Grand Final win against Leinster on YouTube. Lam’s side were a joy to watch.
‘We really enjoyed it, even when we were playing in horrendous conditions in Galway. Everyone in the world, except for us, was saying, “you’ve got to kick the ball, stop running the ball.”
‘We were like, no. Pat gave us a decision. He said, do you want to defend or attack? We said, attack. He said, “fine, just attack, then.”’
Muldowney cites a madcap trip to Siberia to play a Challenge Cup pool match as a key moment in that memorable campaign.
Connacht played Enisei STM in sub-zero temperatures in the city of Krasnoyarsk, but flight delays, adverse weather conditions and visa issues saw the squad stranded in the deepest, darkest recesses of Russia for the best part of a week.
Muldowney and his team-mates made the best of it. ‘We were having a few beers in the airport waiting for our flight and then, all of a sudden… flight delayed so we had a few more beers. Then, the flight got cancelled.
‘Pat was fine. He was like, “yeah, okay, go out, but, we’re having a team meeting at 10 in the morning so don’t be late. Mull (John Muldoon) was the only one late to that meeting! We had a cracking night in Siberia!
‘That was fine but we had to wait a couple of days to get out of there and then we had to wait another day in Moscow.
‘A million games of Perudo kept us sane. The team spirit was amazing. I think the experience helped bring us all together.’
Aly Muldowney keeps warm in Siberia
Representing Connacht was special for Muldowney. He has a tattoo of the club crest on his arm. England-born, he has Irish blood flowing through him. His dad is from Kildare and moved to England where he married a local woman.
‘My dad moved over when he was nine and because of the lovely nuns in Ireland, they used to beat the c*** out of his left hand because he was left-handed.
‘He got a stutter so he had to learn to speak again in England. So he kind of doesn’t have an Irish accent.’ Despite his stellar performances for a resurgent Connacht, there was never any chat about a possible Ireland cap under Joe Schmidt.
Still, for a player who didn’t take up the game until he was 27, Muldowney carved out an impressive career.
But that’s only half the story. Muldowney is a searingly honest, blunt, thoughtful and reflective individual.
He spent a lot of his life and his entire professional rugby coach career hiding who he really was. Trying to fit in. Being one of the lads. He’s done with all that now. After a 12-year career, taking in stints with Moseley, Glasgow, Exeter Chiefs, Connacht, Grenoble and Bristol, he hung up his boots in 2020.
It was only when he got away from the daily grind of the professional game that things became clearer. In the years that followed, Muldowney was diagnosed with ADHD and autism. Suddenly, he had clarity about a lot of issues and struggles.
Connacht were a joy to watch under Lam
He was often branded a loner or anti-social by former coaches and team-mates. He found team meetings exhausting and draining.
He yearned for isolation after long training days. He felt like he couldn’t be himself. It would gnaw at him.
‘You’re living the dream. Then you feel guilty if you are feeling down or depressed or if there’s anything wrong or negative because you know there’s a lot of people who would kill to be in your position and tried so hard and didn’t make it.
‘You see a lot of it in football now because obviously their wages can be ridiculous compared to ours. But someone’s like, “oh, they shouldn’t have mental health issues”. Well, It doesn’t really work like that.’
The light bulb moment occurred during his time playing in France.
Bernard Jackman was head coach of Grenoble at the time and offered Muldowney a lifeline after he was released by Connacht in 2016. He has nothing but good things to say about his first season at the club, and enjoyed working with Jackman and his assistant coach Mike Prendergast.
But the Irish pair left the following season and that’s when things began to turn sour with the new coaching group.
‘The way they treated me in France was absolutely horrendous. They treated me like s***.’
Off the field, Muldowney and his wife, Samantha, forged strong bonds. One of which led to a big realisation.
‘We were really good friends with this Brazilian couple because our kids were pretty much the same age,’ he recalls.
‘Their youngest had autism and they were saying they were seeing some of the same traits in our son. And I was like, “no, I don’t believe you. He’s fine. It’s just the
language barrier”.’
It was only when Muldowney moved to Bristol, to link up with Lam, that things began to become a little clearer. His son, Arlan, was soon diagnosed with autism.
Aly Muldowney with his son Arlan
When Muldowney started to get educated about neurodivergence, a lot of things about his own life and playing career began to make sense. ‘It starts to dawn on you a little bit. You start speaking to his teachers about things that are going on at school with him.
‘He’s always been well-behaved and extremely clever, but there’s always this social issue.
‘So then you start getting a diagnosis. You start going through their history and all their life. And then you start seeing a lot of similarities between that and your own childhood.
‘I think that’s why a lot more people are getting diagnosed and there’s a lot of clickbait out there saying maybe autism and ADHD aren’t real and we’re over-prescribing it, but it’s just because there’s more awareness, especially for the younger children and then it’s having a knock-on effect with the parents.’
Fittingly, the picture on his WhatApp profile is Muldowney, still clad in his Connacht gear on the Murrayfield turf, and his son, Arlan, with the Pro12 trophy between them. It’s a special memory.
‘He’s 13 now and about 6 foot 3,’ Muldowney says proudly of his young fella. ‘That’s one of my favourite pictures.’
Muldowney was diagnosed with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) in 2021 and, a few years later, he pursued a formal autism spectrum condition diagnosis. And the results did not surprise him.
He wonders if he’d known then what he knows now, would things have been different? Later in his career, Muldowney got hooked on painkillers.
‘I was getting more and more burned out,’ he says.
Muldowney started to make sense of his life
‘I was struggling with masking. I just didn’t have the energy to mask so we started getting a lot of painkillers for a lot of injuries. They would give them out like Smarties in France.
‘I’d have coaches come up to me telling me that you’ve got a s*** attitude and you look like you don’t want to be here.
‘Then I realised I was quite happy sometimes when I was on those painkillers because of the opioids. I’d take some of them and, all of a sudden, the coaches would like my attitude.
‘So then you get to a stage where you feel like they don’t like me for who I am.
‘It’s almost like well I need to have five drinks before people think I’ve got a nice personality, but you can’t drink so I’d have to take some opioids so the coaches wouldn’t think I’m basically a miserable piece of s***. I’m not. I’ve got autism.’
These days, Muldowney is a procurement manager at the University of Wolverhampton, while he is also director of rugby at Stafford RFC, which is something of a full-circle moment in his rugby career.
He’s done work as a designated Neurodiversity Coach in the area.
‘It’s basically helping either parents or coaches with kids with neurodiversity and giving them advice and help and the best way to try and deal with it.
‘It’s just giving little bits that maybe could help and it’s not always about giving solutions.
‘It’s not going to be one fix, a couple of things and your autism and ADHD is going to go away. There’s a lot more to it. It’s all about awareness.’
As the chat winds down, Muldowney informs me that he is chatting to a Connacht supporter who got in touch via his Instagram page.
‘I’ve got a phone call with someone from Galway who messaged me about his son with neurodiversity,’ he adds.
‘I’ve got a video call with him to see if there’s any advice and help I can give him as well.’
Muldowney may not be there for the big bash on Friday night, but he is still leaving his mark on the province.
