Michalak was far more than antidote to Wilkinson
As France’s top points scorer retires, Daniel Schofield salutes a mercurial talent whose legacy is misunderstood
His childhood was one long, rolling scrap. He carried a propensity for mischief into his career
There are plenty of things the British do not understand about the French.
Johnny Hallyday is a prime example. Watching coverage of his funeral in a bar in Toulon two weeks ago was a surreal experience. There was Emmanuel Macron close to tears with nearly a million mourners on the streets of Paris. Then you heard Hallyday sing and it was bad. As in pub karaoke bad. But the man learnt Elvis’s hip thrusts so you can forgive him that.
And so to Frederic Michalak, who announced on Monday he will retire at the end of the season. The Lyon fly-half will also leave a curious legacy. He is France’s record pointsscorer, played in three Grand-slam winning sides and won a record six European Cups.
Yet to British, and especially English, eyes, there was a flakiness to his game. This was shaped by the experience of the 2003 World Cup quarter-final between England and France. Coming into the game, much was made of the differences between the fly-halves that aped a few national stereotypes: the metronomic, stoic Jonny Wilkinson versus the carefree, instinctive Michalak. The French press even dubbed their boy the “anti-wilkinson”.
Michalak, just turned 21 with diamond ear studs, had been immaculate in the 43-21 quarter-final victory against Ireland, kicking 23 points. Then in torrential rain at the Telstra Stadium, Michalak fell to pieces. His first up and under veered sideways and into English hands. It went downhill from there. He missed four of his five shots at goal as England won 24-7, all their points coming from the boot of Wilkinson.
From that day on Michalak was distrusted as much as a month-old slice of brie. Yet that narrative of flawed French flair is unfair. It is quickly forgotten how Michalak pulled the strings in the 24-21 defeat of England in the next year’s Six Nations that sealed the Grand Slam.
His public insouciance masked a ferocious work ethic. He was far tougher than he was given credit for and relished physical confrontation. The son of a Polish bricklayer, Michalak grew up on the wrong side of the tracks in Toulouse, where the right side is hardly salubrious. His childhood was basically one long, rolling scrap. He carried that propensity for mischief into his career.
On one occasion, he woke up Yannick Bru, a hooker composed of 60 per cent granite and 40 per cent rage, at 4am with a bucket of cold water. That time he made his escape. On another, Fabien Pelous, the former France captain, caught Michalak with a fork that impaled his hand.
Nor was he afraid of a challenge and he is among the few European players to earn a contract in Super Rugby, which he did twice with the Sharks.
Michalak and Wilkinson would spend three years as team-mates at Toulon. It is little coincidence that Michalak produced his most consistent rugby during that spell. If there is a sense Michalak should have reached that stage earlier, that has less to do with the individual than the French propensity for changing their half-backs.
Look at the fly-halves that France have tried at 10 – Camille Lopez, Jules Plisson, Francois Trinh-duc, David Skrela, Lionel Beauxis, Yann Delaigue and Gerald Merceron. All followed a pattern: huge promise, a couple of faltering performances and dropped never to fulfil that initial potential. You fear for Anthony Belleau, the latest next big thing.
That initial comparison between Jonny and Freddie was a cruel one and it seems appropriate that Michalak would fit in the dictionary somewhere between mercurial and misunderstood.