Laporte and Goze line up for a new war
RMC, a French radio with studios in Paris and Monte Carlo, has lost two of its big-name presenters… Bernard Laporte and Serge Simon, now starring with the French Rugby Federation.
The third member of this band of brothers is Vincent Moscato who still has his own talk show there.
A triumvirate, Laporte as scrumhalf, Simon as prop and Moscato as hooker, which was once known throughout the game as being involved with one of the most scary packs ever known.
They revelled in their own capacity for striking fear into the hearts of opponents with a devastating mix of power, intimidation and, they admit themselves, dirty tricks.
A celebrated running maul they called The Tortoise helped take their club, a forerunner of today’s Bordeaux-Begles, to the French title in 1991. And Federation president Laporte now confesses: “We suceeded in developing a mentality ready for anything. Sometimes we went too far.
“We were excessive, not to mention very stupid. But that was our strength, too. We knew we inspired fear. We were hooligans in the eyes of many.”
A decade earlier, League president Paul Goze had retired as an aggressive lock with a penchant for violence with Perpignan. In his own words, he recalls: “The punch-up was part of the basics. The more blood there was, the more I liked it. In the scrum, it is better to be the butcher than the bull.”
Little wonder they have swept aside all opposition to head the two most influential rugby organisations in the country. Nor that, once again, just like in the old days, the scent of blood precedes their imminent power battle.
For Goze is not one to be browbeaten in the direct confrontation that opposes them. Primarily over Laporte’s manifesto pledge to have French internationals contracted to the Federation.
That runs counter to the convention hastily signed before the election by the Federation and League which ends only in 2020.
Goze says: “There is no question of that happening. We will be inflexible on this point. The base of French rugby is the club. There is no reality behind these supposed federal contracts.
“I have told Bernard Laporte that we will approach discussions in an open and constructive manner on other subjects, but there cannot even be negotiations on these contracts.”
If it were left to Laporte’s old pal Moscato, he would probably favour the head-butt that had him thrown out of the France team for good in a violent 1992 encounter with England.
Laporte, himself, though, is more inclined to underline the authority invested in his mission by the French state.
Unlike in England, those representing the League have their powers delegated by the Federation which can, in theory, withdraw them.
Goze concedes: “That is true, but the procedures would take years. It is not something that can be decided by two people in an office.
“This is just a case of showing their muscles. It is like the atomic bomb. It is a threat. This is a cold war in which one of the adversaries at least is very calm. I have heard a bit of everything for a month and have said nothing.
“What do you think of someone who repeats the same things too often ? That he is trying to convince himself and is being provocative.
“From the moment he was elected, Bernard Laporte has wanted to mark his territory and I imagine has has repeated his position to saturation point with this in mind.
“Talking for talk’s sake is of no interest. It is better to do so when you have something to say.”
Top 14 clubs have already voted unanimously for their French internationals to remain on their payrolls with cash compensations coming from the League’s coffers.
And it is hard to see that situation changing before the end of Laporte’s current remit.
On the other hand, Laporte, as the former coach of Toulon, Stade Francais and France, generally found a way to come out on top.
In 1998, he managed Stade Francais to the French title by easily beating Perpignan, the beloved team of Goze.
No doubt his methods now are not
“This is just a case of showing their muscles. It is like the atomic bomb, it is a threat”
- Paul Goze
dissimilar to those employed in his early days as a player. “We were young,” he says, “rebellious with a grudge against the world. It was our way, somewhat clumsily at times, of existing, of communicating.”
The big difference is this war will not be won while clad in a mud-spattered shirt, but in the kind of expensive suit he wore in a previous venture into diplomacy as Secretary of State for Sport.
A period under France president Nicolas Sarcozy which did not appear blessed by outstanding success.
The firebrand leader, who has been branded Mad Bernie for his famously loose lip, will be happy he has the wiser counsel of Simon, a qualified doctor, at his side.
Meanwhile, Goze insists: “I would just like to have more time to devote to developing our rugby and less for this pointless squabbling.” That looks likely to remain a pious wish.