France's heartstopping defeat of the All Blacks is a result that does not bear rational explanation, at least not at this moment in time.
October 6, 2007 10:59 PM - blogs.guardian.co.uk/sport > Andy Bull
It isn't right that a man should have to write in this situation: I should be jumping up and down, returning the lunatic embraces of the French journalist sat next to me, screaming my vocal chords sore, sitting and staring and soaking this up, gasping for air and asking myself whether I've imagined everything I've just seen.
Because I've just sat through one of the most astonishing matches in the history of rugby. Really. I say that without a trace of hyperbole. By the time the Cup is finally won, this tournament will have had at least two finals because it is impossible to believe that any game could surpass this one for drama, intensity and passion. It was utterly startling.
So the best team in the world have once again been knocked out of the World Cup by the French. Of course there are shades of 1999, but this French team is a very different animal to its predecessor - this is the team that Bernard Laporte has been building for the last seven years (during which time they have won just one of their 11 games against the All Blacks).
So often castigated for the manner in which he had robbed them of their flair and sought to replace it with something more pragmatic, Laporte was totally vindicated in Cardiff this evening. The manner in which his team defended during the last five minutes was breath-stealing, it sucked the air out of a crowd of 71,000 people. Defending a two-point margin in the face of a relentless, churning All Black assault, you would think almost any team would buckle. France didn't. Ninety-nine was a triumph of irrepressible attack, this was a triumph of unbreakable defence.
Through the first half, New Zealand were undeniably superior, displaying a complete range of methods of attack. With a 13-point lead, there was surely only one direction the match was heading. Even now, with Raphael Ibanez giving a post-match interview on the big screen, the manner in which France came back doesn't seem credible.
New Zealand were superb, and the first half of the match was a lesson in how to dictate play. France's kicking game, a tactic they'd broadcast through the week looked deeply flawed. Both Lionel Beauxis and Jean-Baptiste Elissade had missed kicks at goal. The line-out was being dominated by the superb Ali Williams, who helped steal five French throws. France were simply not in the match.
So what the hell happened in their dressing room at half-time?
Certainly the penalty count was heavily against New Zealand, but they appeared to be coping with almost every situation the game presented. Luke McAllister, who had been the best back on the pitch by a distance in the first 40 minutes, was sin-binned for obstruction.
And again New Zealand responded by taking control of the match: they advanced down field and camped in the French 22. And then? Well, the French really started to play.
It was not the loose, broken dashing madness that characterised their victory in '99, it was something more controlled and clinical. A three-man overlap down the right nearly evaporated into nothing, the ball was tossed left and again held back. But the try came, and the scores were level.
Still New Zealand didn't tighten up: they regained the lead after Rodney So'oialo finished an irresistible series of drives.
And then came the crucial series of changes. France's bench had an astonishing array of talent on it, New Zealand's seemed rather impoverished by comparison. The introduction of Nick Evans, with the match boiling over into its most intense final minutes, seemed to exemplify that disparity.
I dipped my head and when I looked up Frederic Michalak was on the pitch, storming free down the left wing, and then setting up Yannick Jauzion with on off-load of startling spontaneous ability. France had the lead, and McAllister's missed conversion after So'oialo's try suddenly became the margin that would end New Zealand's World Cup. That in itself was a cruel twist of fate given his game-breaking performance in the first 40 minutes.
This was not the kind of result that bears rational explanation, at least not at this moment in time. New Zealand made 36 tackles out of 47; France made 178 out of 197; New Zealand had 72 per cent of possession.
In short it was a glorious nonsense of a result. It confounded everybody's expectations, as well as the bookies' odds, and it has left me absolutely flabbergasted.
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