What has gone so badly wrong with French rugby?

CLUELESS. Spineless. Shambolic. Just a few of the terms used over the past couple of weeks to describe the rabble of players who are currently masquerading as the French national rugby team. The list could go on. Throw in the fact that some of them look to be patently unfit and overweight, and it soon becomes as extensive as it is damning.

A sense of context is imperative in trying to assess quite how far they have fallen, so it does not reflect well that, barely 10 years ago, they were the most impressively equipped team in the northern hemisphere.

In the period between 2002 and 2010, France won the Six Nations five times. Three of those triumphs brought a Grand Slam for good measure.

In the World Cup of 2007, they tore up the script and produced a magnificent performance to dump New Zealand out at the quarter-final stage on a famous night in Cardiff.

Four years later, and with the All Blacks on home soil, Les Bleus ran their opponents agonisingly close before losing the final by just a single point in the cauldron of Eden Park.

Their stellar cast list during this period displayed an embarrassment of riches. But, more than that, an abundance of true leaders.

Can you possibly imagine someone like Serge Betsen affording England the freedom of south-west London to run riot the way they did last weekend?

The same applies to Fabien Pelous. His sparring sessions with Martin Johnson were invariably box-office viewing which fans of all teams in the Six Nations would relish watching.

Then there was the likes of Yannick Jauzion; a real Rolls-Royce of a player who, on his day, could rival Brian O’Driscoll as the best centre in Europe.

Thierry Dusautoir, Julien Bonnaire, Imanol Harinordoquy, Fabien Galthie, Raphael Ibanez, Olivier Magne; the heart and soul of the team who would be complemented by talents such as Freddie Michalak and Vincent Clerc.

It was Betsen’s abrasive style of play and his ability to savage opponents in the tackle — not least a penchant for Jonny Wilkinson — that earned him the nickname of the Grim Reaper.

Yet, it would seem to be that same character who is hanging over this current group of players, just waiting for the death knell to sound.

France have now dropped to 10th in the world rankings. Apart from Italy, they are currently the lowestranked team in the Six Nations.

They have won only three of their 13 matches under head coach Jacques Brunel, a man whose jacket is on an increasingly shaky peg.

Brunel won the Top14 with Perpignan. But that was a decade ago and there is a feeling in France that his failure to evolve as a coach in the intervening 10 years has effectively mirrored the stagnation of the national team.

In that sense, they are a perfect match. Brunel’s record is proving to be even poorer than his predecessor Guy Noves, who won seven of 21 matches during a two-year spell in charge between 2015-2017.

France have never appointed a foreign head coach, which makes them unique when compared with the other teams in the Six Nations.

Over the past few years, Scotland have employed Vern Cotter, Ireland Joe Schmidt, England Eddie Jones and Wales Warren Gatland in an attempt to expand their knowledge of the game and embrace change.

All of them are coaches from the southern hemisphere and all can be said to have improved the fortunes of their respective teams, with Gregor Townsend having since continued the sterling work Cotter started with Scotland.

But France are having none of it. There is a reluctance to broaden their horizons; an arrogance that promotes the attitude of ‘we know best’. Or, more specifically, the

Top14 know best.

The decline of the national team is intrinsically linked to the way in which the landscape of the domestic game has been altered so dramatically over the past 10 years.

French rugby has effectively eaten itself. It has sold its soul to the devil, with the vast riches floating around the club game by far outweighing the level of finance available to the national federation.

Make no mistake, it’s the clubs who call the shots. They are privately owned, hold all the money and have an unhealthy level of influence which dictates that international rugby simply isn’t a priority.

Edinburgh’s win over Montpellier in the Heineken Champions Cup last month was a case in point.

Just six of Montpellier’s starting XV were French. There were eight South Africans. Edinburgh, by contrast, boasted 11 starters who hailed from Scotland.

The French clubs have been allowed to rise to a position of undue prominence. It is a land of mercenaries where a young group of players who won the Under-20 World Cup last year are not getting the game-time their talents merit.

As former captain Magne said in a recent interview: ‘Over the past 10 years, we have forgotten who we are. We will win nothing with this generation.’

Drowning in politics and relative paupers compared to the clubs, it is unclear where the federation actually goes from here.

Cotter’s name has been mentioned as one possible solution. Currently in charge of Montpellier and fluent in French, he would be a natural fit if they opted to go for their first foreign coach.

It is difficult to imagine that Stern

French rugby has eaten itself, selling its soul to the devil

Vern would allow any team under his command to be as chaotically disorganised as what we have seen from France over the opening two rounds of this year’s Six Nations.

It wasn’t so much a failure to adequately cover the vast expanses of the Stade de France that saw them surrender a 16-point half-time lead against George North and Wales, but a failure to engage the six inches between their ears.

With the game hanging in the balance, Sebastien Vahaamahina’s decision to throw a late intercept pass to North was inexplicable and inexcusable. It was never on in a month of Sundays. Vahaamahina then put the tin lid on it during a remarkable post-match interview.

‘I did not even know I was captain,’ said the Clermont second row. ‘It was the referee, Wayne Barnes, who came to see me on a penalty to ask me my choice. I told him to address the captain and he said it was me. The staff did not warn me.’

It was almost beyond parody and symptomatic of a team who, rather sadly, have become a laughing stock on the international scene.

They used to be one of the great enigmas of world sport. Sort of like the Pakistan cricket team; a collection of outstanding individual talents who had a licence to thrill at every opportunity.

But, as back-rower, Arthur Iturria noted after they were torn apart at Twickenham: ‘We got spanked.

‘England were stronger and we have to work hard to get to that level. Scotland will come to beat us, like everybody does now.’

So this is what awaits Scotland next weekend as they hunt a first victory in Paris in 20 years. A French team who have lost eight of their last nine games are in a state of freefall.

The 20,000 empty seats for the opener against Wales were not a reflection of the Friday night timeslot, but of a nation who have fallen out of love with their rugby team.