Hand of fate gives hapless France one final slap

TRUST the hapless French to blow their last chance to make a few friends at the World Cup.

A man and two goals down, they picked a fine time to discover the merest smidgen of spirit and self-respect as Franck Ribery set up Florent Malouda for their one and only goal of the tournament, a tap-in which extinguished South Africa’s fervent hopes of a miracle.

But it says everything about the no-win situation the French found themselves in yesterday that the goal was probably greeted with as deafening a silence in Paris as it was in Bloemfontein, across the Rainbow Nation and all around the whole world of football, with the obvious exception of the folk down Mexico way.

And so comes, to an ignominious end, the reign of the longest-serving post-war French manager. And, considering the prolonged debacle over which he has presided, the longest serving pre-war and at-war manager too, sez you.

For a while, it was almost possible to feel sorry for Raymond Domenech yesterday but then even he found a way to apply a final blot to his record with that petulant refusal to shake hands with South Africa’s manager Carlos Alberto Parriera after the game.

A bit late to be objecting the use of hands in football, mon ami

Should the Gael be rejoicing in the cataclysmic collapse of the Gaul? It would take a pillar of moral rectitude not to, especially at that priceless moment in yesterday’s match when Thierry Henry controlled the ball with his arm, although this time he was content to touch it just the once, bless him.

Yet, watching France implode on and off the pitch this past fortnight, Ireland’s biggest regret should be that they failed to take the chances to knock out a team which was already on the ropes in the Stade de France last November.

Say what you like about Les Bleus but they do not go gently into that good night. From the moment ZZ blew his top in Berlin four years ago to the every waking hour of their extended debacle in South Africa, the French have found increasingly ingenious ways to make gripping World Cup headlines for all the wrong reasons. You will struggle to remember anything about their football in South Africa but you’ll never forget their latest appearance at the greatest show on earth.

The popular view is that incoming manager Laurent Blanc has taken on the most demanding job in football. I’m not so sure. The only way for French football is up now and once the soul-searching and self-flagellation and blame game has run its course, the new manager should have something like a clean sheet with which to work.

Despite present appearances, there is already plenty of serious talent available to be whipped into line and, unless the curse of the Irish extends to a hurricane levelling the wonderful academy at Clairefontaine, it ought not to be too long either before the conveyor belt of young and untainted French talent is up and running again.

Meanwhile, we can all finally get back to normal around these parts. Justice has been done. Our bile has been discharged. Our schadenfreude has been exhausted. At long, long last we can relax, unwind and join the other neutral nations of the earth in honest, unbiased and happy enjoyment of the World Cup.

In other words, come on you Slovenians!