The fallout continues from the All Blacks v Lions test

Parallels have been drawn with the Rainbow Warrior bombing. I say, why stop there? It was a French betrayal worthy of Marshall Petain in 1940.

Are we a nation of poor losers?

The fallout from last Saturday’s series concluding draw between the All Blacks and the might of British and Irish rugby would suggest so.

Gallons of printer’s ink has been spilt in the deconstruction of this most unexpected of results.

The wrath of media experts and armchair critics alike has been visited upon the performance of bumbling Gallic whistleblower Romain Poite and his 11th-hour decision to reverse a penalty call that initially favoured the home side.

It denied the All Blacks the benefit of an advantage that might have otherwise flowed from a Lions’ knock on and then the chance to kick for goal and take out both game and series.

If only Monsieur Poite had not conspired with his mischievous countryman Jerome Garces, their conversation all the more mysterious for being conducted in their native tongue.

Parallels have been drawn with the Rainbow Warrior bombing.

I say, why stop there? It was a French betrayal worthy of Marshall Petain in 1940.

Collaboration is not too strong a word, even if it rather oversells the persuasive powers of Lions captain Sam Warburton. The Welshman’s entreaties to officials won the day.

Meanwhile, for Northern Hemisphere scribes, the referee barely rated a mention.

Though some of the more evenhanded writers drew attention to the remarkable fact that the Lions’ series draw was secured through no more than three minutes of scoreboard superiority across 240 minutes of rugby played, the emphasis has been on achievement outstripping expectation.

What marvels their brave lads wrought with precious little preparation and an oft-termed ‘‘suicidal’’ programme. How brave Gatland bounced back from his red-nosed humiliation. Who’s laughing now?

Perhaps humble pie should be eaten. Take Poite out of the equation, as our ever-stoic Steve Hansen is wont to do, and the All Blacks were authors of their own misfortune.

Julien Savea lost the series as surely as the referee did when he dropped the ball early within sight of the line. Beauden Barrett was just as butter-fingered and left still more points on the park with unconverted tries and missed penalties.

So far as place kicking goes, we would have done better to have selected from the grandstand and recalled spectator Dan Carter, the hero of 2005.

Such cold analysis makes for less vitriolic headlines. It is also a lot less fun.

An essential part of rugby history is its folkloric dimension. Facts are relevant, but they should never entirely obscure a good story. Sportsmanship is one thing, but if the contest is to retain its bite and relevance and emotional weight we need at least the perception of injustice if not the thing itself.

Think about it. What sustained our games against Wales in the dull decades when there was crying in the valleys and their first XV was not up to snuff?

The legend of 1905 and the disallowed try of Bob Deans, who on his death bed swore that he had scored.

The first instance of an incompetent or cheating referee, one who arrived on the scene too late and misread the action to the home side’s advantage.

What gave our series victory over the Springboks in 1996 its meaning? The immediate context was, of course, the controversial final of the World Cup the year before, where a food-poisoned All Blacks, who had played the best rugby of the tournament by far, succumbed to the sentimental favourites, the born-again Rainbow Nation.

The 1996 win showed the planet who the real champions were and perhaps always had been, benefiting from officials a good deal more neutral than those of the apartheid era, not to mention catering handled by anyone but a waitress called Suzie.

What made the 2011 World Cup win all the sweeter? The fact that it came against the French, who had miraculously ousted us from the quarter-finals of the previous contest on the strength of a missed forward pass by that ultimate referee we love to hate, Wayne Barnes.

Coach Graham Henry later claimed that Barnes missed as many as 40 opportunities to penalise the French that day, an incompetence on such a scale that he felt it warranted an investigation into the referee’s potential corruption.

Arguing that the rest of the world does not see things this way misses the point. So does any pious suggestions along the lines that the ‘‘ref’s always right’’.

Give me folklore over logic every time.