HUGH FARRELLY ON A CITY OF CRINGE
Losing would constitute a major failure
PARIS is known worldwide as the city of romance but it can also be the city of cringe. It’s the culture clash. The French have their own way of doing things and fully expect, nay demand, all visitors to comply.
This was hammered home a few years ago while having pre-match lunch in a quaint restaurant next to Gare du Nord before catching the Parisian Dart out to the Stade de France.
Having opted for the ‘Moules et frites’ (mussels and chips), that decision was justified when a giant bowl of juicy shellfish arrived floating in a delicious garlic soup and accompanied by a mound of fries. C’était Parfait.
The mussels were swiftly wolfed and, with the bowl still brimming with liquid, it seemed logical (almost romantic) to empty the remaining chips into it. Not the done thing, apparently. A painfully cool waiter (slicked back hair, stubble, pencil behind the ear etc) took in this slurpy spectacle as he weaved past and recoiled in horror, before unleashing a stream of furious French invective which stopped all nearby conversation.
Having only done pass French to Inter cert level, a totally accurate translation was impossible but it seemed to be along the lines of: ‘Jesus wept! Get out! That’s f ***** g rank….’ We caught the early train. Culture-clash cringe is a regular feature of trips to Paris for the Ireland rugby team also, as borne out by a mere three wins in the French capital since 1972.
The cringe stems from the size of those defeats — in the 25 games since 1972, Ireland have scored 325 points and conceded almost twice as many (644).
The vast stadia, the jaunty brass bands tooting their mockery from the stands, the two-toned, heavy Adidas ball and waves of flamboyant Frenchmen attacking from every angle consistently threw Ireland off their game and generations of teams travelled to Paris ‘beaten before we got on the plane’ — as one ex-international put it succinctly. But no longer. Since 1998, (when Ireland were in disarray behind the scenes and expected to be on the end of a record hammering only to come agonisingly close to victory) the fear factor with this fixture has been steadily dissipating.
There have still been defeats, some of them sizeable, but Ireland have long since moved beyond the mental state of not believing victory is possible.
And this year, more than at any stage in the past, Ireland arrive in Paris in a situation where defeat is practically inconceivable.
Of course, it cannot be conclusively ruled out but, when you evaluate the respective camps by every logical measure, Ireland are so vastly superior that losing would constitute a major, and deeply disconcerting, failure.
They are settled where France are chaotic, confident where France are brittle and pursuing a clear path to Japan 2019 while France blunder about in the World Cup wilderness.
Rugby has evolved to a startling degree over the last few years, developing into a sort of rugby league hybrid where teams engage
in a relentless pursuit of numerical mismatches and phases are plotted to the nth degree.
To be successful in this altered environment requires impeccable discipline and meticulous preparation of the type Ireland coach Joe Schmidt excels at.
That level of planning also flies in the face of the traditional French strength of off-the-cuff flair and they have suffered accordingly.
There is a common mistake in the modern game of believing that preparation will be sufficient in itself but rugby requires physical commitment and intensity to make systems count.
This is where the old cliches of pride and passion kick in but although those antiquated terms have been reduced almost to the point of parody, they are still hugely relevant because if not at required levels, systems fail — as happened against Scotland in Ireland’s opener last year.
That Murrayfield reverse is arguably the most significant of Schmidt’s reign — not for its effect on Ireland’s Six Nations ambitions but for its legacy of cementing the determination that a loss of that nature can never be allowed happen again.
Ireland did not show up that day until it was too late — echoing their World Cup quarter-final loss to Argentina in 2015 — and there is a conviction now to never repeat that scenario, a conviction forged out of that unforeseen failure.
The subsequent loss to Wales was a different animal, Ireland were undone by an excellent display from Warren Gatland’s men and, ultimately, by the dubious yellow card handed to Johnny Sexton. But Ireland showed up in Cardiff and have done on every occasion since Murrayfield.
And, if they are at the right mental pitch again tomorrow evening, it is impossible to countenance anything other than an Irish victory, and a comprehensive one at that.
They may not wish to talk about it publicly but the World Cup underscores everything Ireland do between now and September next year. That is shown in Schmidt’s progressive selection policy from last summer through November and into tomorrow’s clash with the French.
There is a serious question over whether Rory Best, at 35, is the right man to continue as captain through to the World Cup but, overall, Schmidt is building a squad to properly compete in Japan and is encouragingly willing to test up-and-comers like James Ryan in high-pressure environments with an eye on the big one down the road.
However, that now needs to be backed up by consistent victory, almost to the point of impregnability, emulating England’s buildup to their 2003 World Cup triumph.
Which means that Ireland should not be losing to France tomorrow. They are fitter, faster, more experienced, more skilful and infinitely better prepared and the unpredictability of their opponents or the unsettling surroundings are not viable reasons for failure.
Tomorrow represents a hugely significant step on the long journey to World Cup fulfilment and it is no longer romantic to talk of winning in Paris, it is entirely practical.
Cringe is off the table — unless you are French.
We are fitter, faster, more experienced