The departure of two legendary actors from the world’s stage marks the end of an era. They represent the first generation to spend their entire senior careers in professional rugby.

For those who remember the days following the landmark 1995 World Cup in South Africa, it was a watershed moment for rugby. Professionalism was inevitable. When it finally came about the following year there was a school of thought that it would be the death of the game, and another that saw it as evolution. Four major tournaments and nearly 18 years later, there are elements of truth in both of those predictions.

There are more than a few similarities shared by Ronan O’Gara and Stephen Jones. Both were born in 1977. Both played for their first senior club sides while still teenagers, O’Gara for Cork and Jones for Llanelli. Both succeeded celebrated goal kickers in their national sides, Eric Elwood of Ireland and Neil Jenkins of Wales. Both would go on to have illustrious careers for club, country, and the Lions. That is not to say they were the same sort of bloke.

If rumours are to be believed, and they are rarely without some substance, O’Gara has had more than his fair share of self indulgence over the years. Training was a necessary evil and his physique reflected that. He was chirpy and arrogant, never one to shy away from a discussion of his own qualities. That’s not to say he didn’t have any. You don’t win two Heineken Cups and a Grand Slam by being average. You wouldn’t bet on him making a try-saving tackle, but you sure wouldn’t bet against him putting one through the sticks when the pressure was on.

Judging by his odd walking style with shoulders hunched you would have never guessed that Jones was an athlete, never mind a paid one. By contrast to O’Gara, he was a model professional from the start. An excellent passer, committed defender, and an educated field marshall. His running seemed awkward but was an underrated feature of his game, and his unusual straight-on goal kicking approach was as reliable as they come. There was never a sideways comment about him from any of his teammates or coaches.

In truth neither were ever quite world class, and both were derided by the minority of unappreciative fans despite their undeniably massive contributions to their team’s cause. Better players have been before and better will yet come, but one can’t help but wonder if we are seeing the last of a dying breed. Consider also names like Shane Williams, Sebastien Chabal, and Felipe Contepomi. For fifteen years we have had the joy of watching them grow along with professionalism. While the records will show they were indeed pros during that time, they were the last graduates of the amateur era and still had hints of that exuberance, that strength of character that doesn’t quite seem to resonate from this new generation of pampered pros.

Are we losing the ethos of rugby? That which has distinguished the sport apart from others for so long seems to be fading as more money is poured into the game. It’s not hard to see why. At this very moment we are witnessing the birth of the next cycle of stars, but these ones have had it very different from the last. They all will have been coached by a legion of dedicated professionals throughout age-grade rugby; analysed the data, refined the techniques, and developed their physiques. Every minute detail will have been examined to groom them for their future careers as professional athletes, every decision geared towards a quantifiable result. Pints have been traded for points. Would there be room for an O’Gara in this environment?

There is certainly no room for sentiment in professional sport, as Declan Kidney has so sternly reminded us, and romanticism seems all but dead. And yet from time to time we see glimpses of it. An audacious Simon Zebo, a defiant Quade Cooper. At the very top of the game, raw emotion and moments of individual brilliance can still inspire a side to achieve beyond itself. If we’re honest, the dawn of professionalism has yielded some magnificent rugby. Perhaps in fifteen years time we will look back and see that everything wasn’t lost, it was just changing shape, and the growing pains were just that, nothing more. In the meantime farewell to ROG and Wellies, you’ve tickled us pink for many a year, but all good things must come to an end, or at least a new beginning.