Back To Life, Back To Reality

As I waved goodbye to a New Zealand in full celebration mode last Tuesday, having spent the last day looking for bargains (!) in the Rugby World Cup superstore - those two don't belong in the same sentence given the over-inflated cost of everything and anything in them... they didn't make you pay to wipe your feet on the doormat, but probably only because they hadn't thought of that, it was with a heavy heart, as I had loved my four weeks in the rugby mad country. They had given the rugby world a tournament to be proud of, with memorable games, wonderful organisation, friendly welcomes and a self-deprecating humour which will live long in the memory.

27 hours later, when the rain of Heathrow greeted the pristine 767 I flew in on, it was a case of hitting the ground with a bump (metaphorically if not literally). The prospect of work, holidays done for the year, didn't fill me with joy as you may expect, the thought of no rugby till the weekend didn't help either.

The good news was that, Friday saw me in front of ESPN watching Sale take on Leicester. World Cup stars back, I had Leicester to sneak this, but when they plummeted to a half-time deficit, that was way from the case. However, a 4 try burst in 3 second half minutes, and a competent kicking performance from Toby Flood, turned the game on its head and saw Leicester romp it 34-13.

Meanwhile, over on Sky courtesy of the iPad/Sky Go combination, I was attempting to get interested in Rugby League once more. I can't. Enough said.

Wasps edged past Worcester on Friday night as well, leaving 4 games for Saturday, the pick of which was the late kick-off between Gloucester and Saracens. In the afternoon, Harlequins continued their perfect start against Exeter and Northampton benefited from the returning stars of RWC2011 Ashton and Artemyev (2 tries each) to heap pain on Newcastle. Newcastle were the least affected of all the top sides in terms of World Cup player losses, yet still they find themselves cast adrift in the Premier League. A long season ahead for Falcons fans, who look destined for the Championship already. In the third game, Bath scraped past London Irish with a late Vesty penalty. Irish shot themselves in the foot, with this late penalty and a yellow card for Armitage, during which Bath took the lead, being crucial.

To Kingsholm then, where Sky offered coverage of a game between a side with 22 home games without defeat against a Saracens side who hadn't lost away in donkey's ages. Gloucester started much the better, and Morgans try was no more than they deserved, but a below par Saracens refused to give in, and thanks initially to Hodgson, and ultimately more convincingly Farrell, they stayed in the game, chipping away with penalties. A feisty game, saw yellow cards to Gill and Wood for fisticuffs, and the odd flashpoint around the ruck and maul, where Saracens effectively got away with murder, holding players in and out as they saw fit. One moment of class decided the game though, as a Farrell grubber, more often seen from his father in the 13 man game, was perfectly weighted for Barritt to pick up and go over. Lawson and he disputed possession, and a difficult decision ensued for the TMO, who eventually, somehow, opted for the try, which Farrell converted. Gloucester stuck with it, but could neither break through stubborn Sarries defence, or draw the penalty, and a knock-on in midfield eventually saw Saracens clear and hold on for a 19-17 victory.

Needle seemed to continue after the final whistle, both at the ground and on Twitter where Eliota-Sapolu has been at his entertaining and controversial best since. Ultimately though, Saracens showed why they are Champions, just doing enough to scrape home in the cauldron like atmosphere, even though they were not at their best.

I felt for Jim Hamilton, the Scottish second row, who, both during the World Cup and here, has been putting in immense performances, which somehow keep coming up short. Freddie Burns also showed well, even if he was ultimately outshone by the rapidly improving Farrell, who must surely be banging on the door for International honours already....

Whose door he is banging on is a big question. To summarise the situation, the RFU say they haven't given Martin Johnson an ultimatum; he hasn't made a decision; the Independent inquiry starts this week; Johnson is up first.... Is there an Omnibus edition on Sunday mornings? We could do with one for this soap opera.

I remain convinced, as I wrote here in the wake of England's disappointing exit from the World Cup, that Johnson should stay till the end of his contract. The 6 Nations will be do or die for him. Anything other than a Grand Slam will be curtains though I think. Sir Clive Woodward waits in the wings, and he along with a couple of proper English "coaches" should be the answer for 2015. I suspect a coaching line-up of Woodward, Catt (backs) and Edwards (defence) may not be far from the mark, but we will see whether that transpires and who he would get in for the forwards.

The Future For Europe
I've said I will comment on this for a few weeks now, and I guess now is the first chance I have had. European rugby is now at the biggest crossroads it has ever been at. 6 Nations compete annually for the honour of becoming unofficial European Champions. 6 Nations, which were until relatively recently 5, and were once 4. Italy and France having been invited to join the original 4 home nations. It may be a moot point, but French rugby may well not have developed to the point it has had they not joined the 5 Nations after the Second World War.

Looking at where we are now, it is generally accepted that Italy were let in to the 6 Nations 5 or 6 years too late. Argentina were left in the wilderness 4 or 5 years too long too, before they were allowed to join an extended Tri-Nations tournament in 2012. This World Cup, and the World Sevens Tour, have thrown up Romania, Russia and Georgia as European teams who need to be given regular opportunities against the bigger boys sooner rather than later. Once every four years is not enough, that is clear.

However, we are faced with a tricky situation, as traditionalists, and the money men, need to see the 6 Nations continue in its current form, as European Rugby earns a lot from the 5 international matches each winter, to say nothing of the additional spend around the games in the host cities. That said, if rugby is to grow, the door needs opening now. So what to do? It isn't an easy decision, and I suggest a certain amount of lateral thinking is required. How about this for a potential solution?

There are currently 2 blanks weeks in the 6 Nations tournament. Might I suggest that we make it a 7 Nation tournament, with the 7th Nation alternating between Romania, Georgia and Russia for the next 3 years? This would mean 6 Internationals in 7 weeks, 3 home and 3 away and is effectively one more game than the current tournament gives the players, and one less than they experience in a World Cup. It would appear to be a nice intermediary solution, which cocks a hat to the new boys, and gives the traditionalists what they want. It isn't perfect, but then little is in life, and I just feel this is the fairest way to extend a hand to the smaller nations and to continue with Europe's flagship tournament. I welcome any thoughts on this here, by e-mail to marktheeggchaser@googlemail.com or on twitter via @theeggchaser.

There we go, as Soul II Soul sang, Back To Life, Back To Reality. I'm sure I'll get used to being back... just don't rush me.

New Zealand Regain Crown Despite Brave French

Slightly delayed due to prolonged, in depth and heavy celebrating, but here are my Final thoughts.

The day dawned with heavy clouds and heavier expectations. Saturday had been spent at a combination of 2 friends' cousins, for a relaxing afternoon and then a BBQ where 7 of us ate a lamb, some cows and part of a pig, washed down with lashings of Pinot and Syrah. Not even remotely hungover, Sunday saw nerves on the Auckland streets. I was collected by friends and we headed up to their place for an outdoor brunch to settle the nerves and line the stomach. The fact that 4 beers were drunk before the brunch started is neither here nor there. A half hour stroll to the bar, and the usual good humour and confusion (well I was wearing England shirt, French hat and All Blacks tattoos) saw the time fly by and before we knew it it was time to head to the ground. 

Absolute chockablock is the only way to describe it. Still we were in our seats, 12 rows back behind the posts where both tries would be scored and if you look hard enough, you could see me in white shirt between the sticks as France converted their try, in plenty of time for the build-up. Rarely have I heard hymns sung with such gusto. I bellowed out La Marseillaise with a thought for all my friends back in Paris, both of how they should be here, not me, and in fear of the battering they were about to receive. The Haka and its fantastic response from the French added to the occasion, and were it not for the ad break to dim burning fires, the game would have set off at a great lick. But, cars and insurance must be sold, and it was a little less intense come the start, but not much.

The All Blacks put on a show for half an hour, and Woodcock's try was no more than they deserved. In fact, had Weepu not been shaking like a wet lettuce over every kick, they would have been as out of sight as France themselves had been in their Quarter FInal win against England. Cruden became the latest 10 to limp off for the hosts, meaning the much vilified and lampooned Donald entered the fray in a shirt that looked 3 sizes too small (best muffin tops of RWC 2011). At half time, as I queued patiently for the rest room (!), I told all and sundry he would win the game for them, to much ridicule. 1 Aussie said I was a buffoon and he had no chance (he didn't like my "More chance than Quade" reply which tickled nervous All Blacks. How I wish I could have seen them all at the end of the game.

Donald it was who in the early moments of the second half sent New Zealand 2 scores clear at 8-0 with a penalty that eased inside the post. Weepu then completed his awful day at the office by handing the ball on a plate, and Rougerie, who had his best game in a French shirt, pounced and almost went over. Recycled ball went wide, where once more recycled it came back to Rougerie who timed his pass to Dusautoir to perfection, and in an echo of 2007, the French skipper romped over by the posts, to make the extras easy for Trinh-Duc, who had replaced Parra and had a good game himself. Many have said that McCaw's knee in Parra's face was deliberate. I don't see it that way. Yes, Mr Joubert missed a couple of McCaw offsides, but referees have been doing that for years for some reason. 

France played the rugby they are capable of, and on the whole probably deserved to win, but the All Blacks were not to be denied, and a last 30 minutes of near exemplary defence (1 penalty which Trinh-Duc pulled aside) saw them hold on and send the country into a prolonged state of ecstasy that only 24 years of abstinence can produce. Dusautoir was rightly named Man of the Match, and you would be hard placed to put 1 All Black in the top 5, with Rougerie, Harinordoquy, Nallet and Pape all producing magnificent games. Donald's late impact with some astute kicking bore fruit and justified Henry's ultimate faith in his 4th choice fly half, but it was a largely unremarkable performance as individuals, with Kieran Read possibly being the best on the night after a barnstorming first 40.

Once France conceded a penalty, it was left for the ball to be belted into touch and seal a win which, on the whole of the tournament, you would be hard pushed not to say the All Blacks deserved. On the basis of 80 minutes on Sunday October 23rd, they were lucky though. Presentations followed, with the dignified French (so much better losers than winners) and the All Blacks receiving medals and the latter the trophy, immortalising Richie McCaw amid calls for his and Graham Henry's knighthood. McCaw already has half of the nation wanting to marry him (including the men) and his start will rise on the back of it. There are those who will retire (Muliaina, Thorn for two) and those who may seek pastures new and golden contracts in France and Japan, but the monkey on the back of the All Blacks, which had turned into a gorilla, has finally been removed before it turned into King Kong. To paraphrase that film, it wasn't beauty that killed the French, it was ugly rugby, but after 24 years of trying, the ABs finally learned how to win ugly.

On to the partying. The troup reunited in the excellent and welcoming New Bond Street bar, and hugs were exchanged while Frenchmen sporting soggy tear-stained Lievremont moustaches glared daggers amid facepaint which had run down cheeks. Indeed the French, who had been a joy to witness in my four weeks, completely went into themselves and were anonymous through the evening. Bar closed at 0230, burger consumed, we headed off into town to find further sustenance of a liquid variety, but everywhere was heaving. I've rarely witnessed such life in the streets at 0400 and 0430. Tales started to be told of a victory parade on Monday (a bank holiday) and the next day's activity was set. In fact, rather than the 100,000 expected, 250,000 lined the Auckland streets (that's 20% plus of the population) and crowds ten deep witnessed a parade of flat back trucks with 3 squad members each on, followed by a huge trailer with McCaw, Henry, Muliaina, Thorn and the trophy. The highlights were a car of Weepu, Nonu and Kaino who clearly had been on the energy drinks with the fist-pumping, and an Ali Williams who looked Andrew Flintoff-like as he danced his way along Queen Street. 

A glorious end to a glorious tournament. The right winner all said and done, and praise to the organisers and IRB for putting on a show that made me proud to be a Rugby fan.

Team of the tournament:

1. Guthro Steenkamp (RSA)

2. William Servat (FRA)

3. Martin Castrogiavanni (ITA)

4. Lionel Nallet (FRA)

5. Dani Rossouw (RSA)

6. Thierry Dusautoir (FRA)

7. Sean O'Brien (IRE)

8. Imanol Harinordoquy (FRA)

9. Will Genia (AUS)

10. Stephen Donald (NZL)

11. Richard Kahui (NZL)

12. Ma'a Nonu (NZL)

13. Jamie Roberts (WAL)

14. Vincent Clerc (FRA)

15. Israel Dagg (NZL)

The French came with a strong run to get a few players in, with the 4 forwards meriting their places for keeping their side in the tournament and stepping up when it mattered. You may sneer at my selection at 10, but this is more an indictment of the amount of poor play seen at 10, and the fact that, with so many injuries (Carter, Slade, Cruden, Priestland) no-one made the shirt their own. Donald's calming influence and vital three points saw him be crucial in his 50 minutes, so I'll take the easy option and stick him in.

The plane back beckons later, and I have no doubt on my return I will give more detailed analysis. Until then, thanks for reading these blogs. If you have enjoyed them, please leave a comment here. I will be back at the weekend with some thoughts of the tournament, the weekend rugby and the future of the game (this time for definite I promise).

Wales Wails

Wales found a presence finally in Auckland yesterday. A combination of Welsh fans, who were out very late in the day compared to their Aussie brethren, and British Lions shorts, pulled from suitcases for the occasion, meant the reds were probably as numerous as the yellows inside Eden Park. The Yellows were concentrated in blocks, while the reds were dotted hither and thither. It was almost as if the Aussies expected to be there while for the Welsh this was a surprise (both pleasant in terms of pre-tournament expectations and unpleasant given the post Quarter Final boost).

With Warburton absent, Australia would have expected to win the breakdowns, but Wales actually excelled early on in that phase. Unfortunately, they didn't excel anywhere else. They chose the occasion of the bronze medal game to produce their worst performance of the tournament. Australia saw Beale and Cooper limp off in a bruising but uninspiring first half, but Barnes pulled the strings in midfield, showing coach Deans what an experienced head can do.  Roberts was anonymous, and poor defending by the Welsh midfield saw the Aussies score the only try of the first half. Wales replied with a Hook penalty, but they were unimaginative in their handling and aimless with their kicking. "Are you England in disguise?" was my unkind, if not wholly inaccurate assessment.

The second half saw wasteful Wales continue to miss kicks. Hook and Halfpenny both being guilty, and when they did finally widen the play, Williams neat control of a poorly aimed pass, and another touch forward, saw him dive over for an unconverted try to see Wales briefly take the lead at 8-7. Dogged Wallabies emerged from the minor crisis though and 2 O'Connor penalties and a Barnes drop goal saw them regain and extend the lead at 16-8. Wales were at least showing now, though at 10 they clearly missed Priestland. Firstly Hook, a major disappointment these last 6 weeks, then Jones, a case of 2 years too far for me, showed indecision and inaccuracy in their kicking. Wales couldn't get within a score, even when Williams tried a drop goal which deserves little additional comment. When McAlman scored a second Aussie try, it was curtains for the Welsh. 21-8 and they couldn't come back.... but a Jones penalty gave them hope, and with time ticking by as in the semi final against France, they controlled ball after ball before slipping it wide to Halfpenny who scampered over for a converted consolation which brought the score to 21-18. 

Frankly, it was the worst game I've seen so far. Neither team really wanted to be there, as is usually the case, and the stilted atmosphere showed the crowd's feelings. It was a good crowd for such a game though, with All Blacks, Aussies, Welsh and South Africans being the most in number, with patches of representation from every country involved too. 

Wales have done themselves proud over the last 6 weeks, but ultimately, their fragility which had been exposed in the warm-up games surfaced when it really mattered. They leave New Zealand medal-less, having won 4 and lost 3. The record will show that they finished 4th and were "the team most likely to beat the All Blacks" in many peoples' eyes. For me though, they beat 1 Top 10 side in the tournament (Ireland) and when they needed to perform, they didn't quite have it. Still, consolation in being British best I am sure, and I'm sure they will be quick to harp on about it come the 6 Nations too.

On to the real deal tomorrow now. Excitement will build here over the next 36 hours or so as the All Blacks drone on about 24 years ago. I get the feeling if the miracle happens and France win, the whole of the North Island may sink into the sea never to be seen again, such is the emphasis being placed on this here. 

We will see I guess.

Short but sweet today. Catch you Monday.

Final Curtain Call

So I return after 2.5 days spent in sleepy (understatement) Waitomo. Population - 50. Inches of rain fallen during my stay - 50. Wales chose this backwater to train in, with the Waitomo rugby club's "ground" comprising he only flat piece of turf in Waikato, being overlooked by a lovely cafe (Huhu - my "Who let the dogs out?" reference sadly wasted on the German waitress) which served the Welsh lamb after their session. 

The Waitomo Caves Guest Lodge was my home for 2 nights. Rain interrupted first night as it never stopped siling it down and the flat roof bore the brunt of the noise. A continental breakfast with the unerringly chirpy Colin and Janet chattering away and encouraging conversation with other guests at breakfast. My attempt to plus myself into the iPad was constantly frowned upon, but I think they now realise I don't do breakfast conversation for anything (well except maybe a full English with double sausage and bacon, black pudding and hot toast).

Afternoon 1 was spent reading, waiting for the rain to stop. Consequently I read a book and a half and watched 4 episodes of the surprisingly good Downton Abbey. Dinner at Huhu was lamb and red wine, and the world seemed a good place. The rainy night put the mockers on that though, as high water levels means caving a no-no. Fortunately though, the caves survived and at 2pm I nervously approached the Black Water Rafting company, and went through a safety drill, got kitted out in ridiculous clothes, and had a crash course in abseiling, which involved lowering yourself down a 5 metre bank at 45 degrees slope - what better way to prepare to abseil vertically down a 35m drop? 

Having been told not to pee in the wetsuits, I gave a distinct impression that Number 1s would not be the problem as the ever encouraging Neil cajoled me off the gantry to be suspended by a rope. That over, I loved it. Easing myself through the nooks and  crannies and down into the cave below. 35m is a long way though, and I was still shaking when I reached the bottom. Another demon beaten though. After that, the fun started, leap of faith, tubing down a creek, the incredible mass of glowworms in the caves, some entry level caving, freezing water, slides, waterfalls, holes to contort your way through. An action-packed fun-filled 3 hours underground. Followed by soup and a bagel, before Huhu served me Beef, Rhubarb crumble and more Pinot Noir. The best night's sleep of the holiday before I headed back to Auckland on the bus today, which is where you find me.

So after the semi finals, Monday saw me head out for a late tour of the North Harbour with Nic from the group of rugby fans. We ended up in a Belgian beer bar eating fish in seafood sauce and moules-frites (une fois). After eating and heading to the car we crossed surprisingly chirpy looking Aussie coach (New Zealander Robbie Deans) coming out of the bar where Corey Jane and Israel Dagg had been caught drinking the week before. I must reiterate what lovely people the New Zealanders are. England, and the English, you have a lot to live up to in 2015.

Rugby Matters

Wales take on Australia tomorrow evening in the 3rd place play-off. I'm 100% behind Wales this time, and head and heart say they win. Beale and Genia apart, Australia have been England-like in their insipid attacking, and Pocock's tight-rope walking at the breaksown apart, have been outfought by the three major packs they have Played (Ireland, South Africa and New Zealand). Wales will bully, will be attacking and will win the bronze for their suspended skipper Warburton - had you heard about his sending off? ;-)

Then a Saturday off for some reason, before Sunday night sees the All Blacks hammer France. I can't dress it up any more clearly than that. This is a major mis-match. If you took the squads and picked a combined 15 man team, you'd have the All Blacks. Choke is a word that has been used a lot in recent weeks, but this would be a choke that Mr Heimlich would not be able to manoeuvre his way out of if it were to occur. If France get within 20 points I will be very very surprised. I suspect the early optimism of the Parisian bars will be quashed by an early show of strength from the All Blacks. Weepu will chip away, and as the game opens up, the impressive trio of Dagg, Kahui and Jane (or Toeava or Williams or Guildford) will just eat the French defence alive. Dusautoir can only hope for a miracle that would outstrip even last Saturday's, but which won't occur, and come 11pm local time on Sunday, Richie McCaw will raise the trophy aloft and see the All Blacks crowned champions on their own soil once more. 

Much noise is being made around the scrum, with ex props putting forward plans for a change. Props only though, and as Brian Moore writes in his excellent column, the time has come for this to be discussed between props, hookers, second rows and referees alike. The scrum is in danger of becoming a Rugby League-like farce and something needs doing. The art of hooking is disappearing. The art of scrummaging too, with jerseys tighter and tighter meaning no bind is humanly possible. IRB, listen and act NOW.

Teams of the tournament are currently being picked, but I will wait till Monday to deliver mine. Currently though, and to heighten suspense, I have 10 All Blacks, 1 Frenchman, 2 Welshmen, 1 South African and 1 Italian. I think that backs up my call that the All Blacks are head and shoulders ahead of everyone.

Try of the Tournament is also being thought of. No major favourites here, but personally I think Israel Dagg's work before handing off to Ma'a Nonu in the early stages of the semi final gets my vote. Honourable mentions will abound to the likes of Mike Phillips, but the artistry of Dagg was sheer poetry and that gets my vote.

The IRB Player of the Year award is given out next week, and the selection shows the usual amount of short-sightedness. Thierry Dusautoir seems to be selected as the token Frenchman. He has done nothing to warrant selection, had an average European season yet still finds himself there. Piri Weepu and Ma'a Nonu, impressive though they have been in this tournament, were way below par during the Super 15 for Wellington, and their selection defies belief. I can't argue with Kaino, Pocock or Genia, as they deserve a place, but if you're looking for a European, then you should be looking at Sean O'Brien, who back up a stunning Heineken Cup with some great performances here, or even Chris Ashton, whose finishing was the one bright spark of a disappointing England season (if a 6 Nations title can be called disappointing, which I think it can). Bismarck du Plessis would have completed my line-up. Genia would get my award, though I expect Nonu to be voted in on a wave of AB related euphoria.

Enough for now. The sun is out, the sky is blue and I'm stuck in a coffee shop stealing internet time. A little under 5 days till I board the plane and bid farewell to New Zealand. A definite au revoir though, not adieu. This place is a gem. Varied landscape, friendly people, sports-mad and just enough activity to satisfy the level of adrenalin sought by anyone, from the most hardened (140m bungee jumpers or sky divers) to those who prefer a more sedate jet boat ride. I'll be back in touch Monday, if I've stopped partying, or Tuesday at the latest with my tournament wrap-up.

PS Wales by 7, New Zealand by 22....