Perde d'amour

IT doesn’t feel all that long ago that we began a Heineken Cup with the prospect of the sword of Damocles dangling ominously over the world’s greatest club rugby competition. That’s because it wasn’t long ago at all — in 2007, to be precise — that the French and English clubs last decided that they were picking up the ball and walking off the pitch.

Back then, it was the French clubs, led by then Ligue National de Rugby (LNR) president Serge Blanco, who were at the front of stage complaining about voting rights and wanting a greater say in the running of the European competitions. This time, it’s been different. When a militant Premier Rugby broke ranks a few weeks ago to announce their ground-breaking deal with BT, they were shocked to find their French support had evaporated. It was the rugby equivalent of making a line break and merely having the fullback to beat, only to find your support was down the other end of the pitch smoking a Gauloises under your own posts.

Granted, the French and English clubs share similar concerns — both are seeking a greater share of revenue and a fairer qualification process, which currently favours RaboDirect Pro14 teams. In addition, the French are particularly interested in tempering the effects of the Heineken Cup on their domestic calendar, meaning that a 2015 final may be played in April. But the manner in which the two want to achieve their aims couldn’t be more different, with the French steadfastly refusing to stick the Heineken Cup on the pyre.

“We love the Heineken Cup in France,” LNR negotiator Patrick Wolff revealed last month. “Sometimes we complain, because we are French first, then because the Celts don’t play as many games as us. But I can’t imagine that the French will allow the big games like Clermont against Leinster not to happen. We will do our best to keep these types of games.”

It’s not often we hear the French wax lyrical about a competition that has had a sometimes uneasy relationship with clubs, stakeholders and supporters from that country. From the start, the competition organisers ERC had to get over a natural cultural mistrust that existed, perhaps in part due to the language barrier. The French, who are always quick to declare their undying love for all things Celtic, can be just as quick to label Britain and Ireland as one and the same when it suits. Hence, the Heineken Cup was seen in France as an “Anglo-Saxon” construct from the off, with the French taking and leaving it as they desired.

Yet some clubs with an eye on the bigger picture, and more importantly the resources to back it up, threw themselves headfirst into the competition. Toulouse, Biarritz and Stade Francais all warmed to the European idea pretty quickly, without torpedoing the elephant in the room, the French Championship. For the rest, getting into the Heineken Cup was an honour; having the funds to do anything about it was something entirely different.

How times have changed. This season’s competition will probably be the first time five of the six French clubs qualified have realistic ambitions of getting out of their pool. The budgets of Top 14 clubs continue to increase, relative to their European partners, meaning more French clubs are seeking to pursue the dual focus route that Toulouse first adopted years ago. With bigger squads and no Rugby World Cup on the horizon to mess things up, Toulon, Racing Metro, Clermont Auvergne, Biarritz and the aforementioned Toulouse have all set their sights on doing well in Europe this year, with some teams like Clermont having already (don’t tell Premier Rugby) rested players in their first five league games to prepare for their opening clash against the Scarlets.

Assisting this changing trend is cold, hard cash. Four of the five clubs mentioned are now turning over in excess of €20m with Toulouse’s €35m turnover closing in rapidly on the €41m generated by the Scottish Rugby Union. And it’s not all benefactors’ money either; four of the five have been gradually weaning themselves off the sugar daddies, with even Toulon this season able to raise its €22m without having to dip into the pockets of controversial chairman Mourad Boudjellal.

Finally, perhaps sadly, there is the rugby to speak of. Patrick Wolff’s admission that the Heineken Cup would be saved at almost all costs because of the importance of games like Leinster v Clermont was an admission of sorts. The reality is that when you peel away the 120 years of history, culture and internecine warfare that make up the French Championship, you are left with very little rugby nowadays.

Following World War I, the French sociologist Christian Pociello wrote that French rugby had evolved to become a “war of styles” and that there were three main tendencies that were visible over time: “le rugby panache” (the flair game), “le rugby tranchées (trench warfare), and le rugby de decisions (tactical and pre-planned).

For all its positives, the Top 14 has done a sterling job of starving French rugby supporters of their fix of “le rugby panache” in the last few years. The same can’t be said about the Heineken Cup, and long may it continue.