Donal Lenihan
ON THE day the greatest Irish player of the professional era wins his 100th cap in front of an adoring home audience, it is a pleasure to recognise the remarkable achievements of the man who pipped the Irish captain to the post in becoming this countries first rugby centurion in Twickenham two weeks ago.
In many respects, John Hayes will be thrilled to have reached that significant milestone in the relative calm of London where his achievement may not have registered with the English crowd. The lack of fuss will have suited Hayes down to the ground.
That the big Cappamore man is still locking Ireland's scrum ten years after his international debut and twelve years on from his first appearance in an Irish jersey on the 1998 tour of South Africa speaks volumes for the strength of the man, both in physical and mental terms.
It was my privilege to be there at the outset of an outstanding international career as The Bull was thrown in at the deep end against a number of South African provincial sides and was exposed to the demands of the professional game for the first time. From that moment forward Hayes knuckled down, learned his trade in the full glare of the public eye and endured much unwarranted criticism without  complaint.
He worked hard, learned some harsh lessons along the way and progressed to the stage where he was Ireland's most indispensible player of the decade. Nobody contributed more sustained consistency; a hero appreciated more by those he played with than those who observed.
On lining out against Scotland 10 years ago in the company of four other debutants in Simon Easterby, Ronan O’Gara, Peter Stringer and Shane Horgan, nobody could have suspected the impact and contribution that the giant farmer would make to Irish rugby.
Since the turn of the century, nobody has put in more 80 minute shifts for Ireland than the Munster tight head who has also had to deal with the opposition introducing the fresh legs of an opposing loose head to test him in the final quarter.
Hayes is never one to offer an opinion in public on his teams tactical approach or areas that require improvement and just concentrates on the immediate job at hand. One ventures to suggest that when it comes to discussion on tactics over breakfast, his lovely wife Fiona Steed, herself an accomplished rugby international, has more to offer. Hayes just does his job. 
Having missed out on selection for the recent Lions tour to South Africa there was a fitting end for me when Hayes, called out as a replacement for the latter part of the tour, played for the last half hour of the third test against their destroyer in chief of the Lions in the first test Tendai Mtawarira.
With a shrug of those massive shoulders on the final whistle, his body language said it all “what was all the fuss about”.
One suspects that when his remarkable journey does eventually come to a halt there will be no announcements or fanfare. He will simply retreat once again to the sanctuary of the family farm and stay there - his job done. When that does happen, only then will people begin to fully appreciate the enormity of what he has given. The silent one has made more noise than he appreciates.