Five reasons to fear France: A 'jouez' battle cry, chips on shoulders and curtain call distractions
GONE IN A BLUR: France's Antoine Dupont runs with the ball during the Six Nations rugby union match between England and France at Twickenham in London, Saturday, Feb. 8, 2025. (AP Photo/Ian Walton)
And only the French can do this – score 33 unanswered second-half points to stun the All Blacks and the watching rugby world as they rolled back the stone from the seeming dead to beat New Zealand in the 1999 World Cup semi-final. Or run from behind the posts at Twickenham to score one of the greatest tries ever seen there. Likewise at Eden Park in 1994, Jean-Luc Sadourny’s ‘try from the end of the world,’ helping claim victory for France and defeat the All Blacks, the last time they were beaten at that stadium.
Ancient history? Yeah, but even so. Time and again, France have reached within to find their true selves, that free-wheeling outfit that is without compare when the ball is hand, the support lines are deep and poised, forwards as at ease with the situation as the backs, and cry goes up from the crowd, ‘Jouez, jouez!’ a battle cry to seduce the soul of neutrals and chill the opposition to the core.
France played like plonkers at Twickenham last month and their half-cock, laissez-faire, oops-a-daisy approach, spilling try-scoring passes that they would normally take in their sleep, has hurt them deeply. Whatever the French for ‘rocket up the backside’ is they played as if they had a field gun up their rear end when they took on Italy a fortnight ago in Rome, sparing nothing and no-one as they ran in 11 tries to register the second-highest total ever recorded in the Six Nations Championship. It was not as if it were a spineless, out-of-their-depth Italy in opposition as has been the case on occasions down the years, the fixture little more than a training run-out. Italy are a wholly different item these days.
Les Bleus must have thought that the hoary old cliché of not knowing which France might turn up on the day, beauty or the beast, the free-flowing mob or the away-with-the-fairies lot, had been consigned to the patronising stereotypes dustbin. After that Twickenham debacle, more Le Car Crash than Le Crunch, it’s back in use. Or it could be. Saturday will be revealing.
Rather like English football’s so-called gilded era of Beckham, Gerrard, Rooney and Lampard who excelled on paper but who won diddly-squat of real value, so too are this current crop of French players. They have three U20 World Cup titles to their name but are in danger of missing out on the honours expected of such a high-achieving squad at junior level. So much was seemingly in their grasp. Yet so much has slipped through their fingers, notably and agonisingly, a yearned-for World Cup triumph on home soil in 2023.
Yes, Ireland suffered the self-same agonies at that tournament but they, at least, have managed to dislodge the beast of burden from their backs and get on with life. Six Nations, Grand Slams, a shot at Three-peat history – how France must envy their recent haul and their global status. Instead, France have only one title to show for Fabien Galthie’s five years in charge, little more than you might expect in the routine run of things. They should be doing better is the common consensus. They are capable of big moments as they showed when targeting their first win at Twickenham in 16 years when they battered Steve Borthwick’s side, 53-10, in 2023. Victory over a well-oiled, well-resourced Ireland, so consistent, so on the money, would be a statement win and give them a tilt at a title.
This is not strictly a French matter, obviously, but could the announced retirements of three of Ireland’s finest in Peter O’Mahony, Cian Healy and Conor Murray, have any sort of impact on proceedings? Of course, ask one of the three, and you can imagine the response from O’Mahony in particular, and you will get nothing but a firm rebuttal of such heinous thoughts. The game is the thing. From first whistle to last. Never mind that the Aviva crowd might want to acclaim an epoch-defining victory, the win that probably all but confirms their three-in-a-row destiny, before toasting their emerald-clad warriors on their last appearances at Lansdowne Rd.
The sporting Gods don’t look down on events that way as a man even more no-nonsense, more down-to-earth, it-is-what-it-is than O’Mahony, once found out. Martin Johnson looked set for a gala send-off in his last (and 500th career start) game for Leicester when they met Wasps in the Premiership final at Twickenham in 2005. (It was the last outing also for two other Leicester stalwarts, Neil Back, and coach, John Wells). The Tigers had also walloped Wasps only a few weeks earlier. It was all set for an East Midlands knees-up. The result? Wasps won, 39-14.
The most alarming thing in prospect is that it has not been a vintage tournament so far for Dupont. Good, yes. But not yet of maestro proportions, of the level that, say, All Black fly-half, Dan Carter achieved when eviscerating the British and Irish Lions in the second test in Wellington in 2005.
Dupont was as stricken by the colly-wobbles as any against England. Yet, still, he makes metres, directs the play as if he is a conductor at La Scala, nuanced yet capable of heavy bass output, too, thrusting himself to the fore yet also drawing so much from others around. We could go on. Dupont is the better for his Olympic VIIs experience, more potentially potent than ever. Saturday could be his stage.
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