Times writers’ memories of Rugby World Cup

Off-field fun

While a fair bit of covering the World Cup was a frustrating experience — with the most-used phrase at the tournament “no” or “non” — it was an absolute pleasure to be here in France for The Times.

From beating Ashton and Wigglesworth at padel with my colleague Alex (who is a mean smasher at the net) in Le Touquet, to swimming in the Channel or the Mediterranean — in Marseille at Plage de la Catalans, or the Gravette Beach in Antibes — there was plenty of fun to be had.

Lowe and Kelleher triumphed over Ashton, pictured, and Wigglesworth on the padel court

DAVID ROGERS/GETTY IMAGES

Watching the Fiji prop, Mesake Doge, quietly singing along while playing the guitar to Have You Ever Seen The Rain in their team hotel in Bordeaux was a small, special moment that encapsulated everything that is wonderful about that country’s rugby players.

Lessons from French journalists

My off-field hero of the tournament is our new friend and colleague Guillaume Dufy, a reporter from L’Equipe. He usually covers football, but was seconded to follow the England team around France, and what an addition he was.

The poor bloke had his car broken into in Lille and lost his laptop — but none of his vim.
He taught us about the Listerine-green coloured Get 27 spirit drink, brought new perspectives and energy to our usual pack, and was superb in press conferences.

Guillaume speaks fluent English, which is a million miles better than our French, and was gloriously adept at cutting England to their knees with questions in his lovely Gallic accent.

Example one: before England played Argentina in the opening match, after they had won three of nine Tests under Steve Borthwick, and he had had enough of all the positivity exuding from the team. “Maro [Itoje] all the English players who came to this press conference explain us they are very confident. But ‘ow is this possible you so confident after the bad year you ‘ave with the team?”

Example two: in Paris, before England’s semi-final against South Africa, after Theo Dan had been left as an unused substitute against both Samoa and Fiji, and he wanted to know what on earth was going on there. “In the current rugby it’s not very common to watch an ‘ooker playing 80 minutes per game. Jamie George did it during the two last game. Does it mean he is different, he is not ‘uman, or you don’t trust Theo Dan?”

Magnifique.

A rare experience as a fan

I went to a game as a punter. England v Samoa. Yup, paid for my own tickets, travel, accommodation and beer. In fact, I also paid for my sons’ beers, and my bank account would suggest that I paid for beer for most of Lille too. Three conclusions:

1.) If you leave the younger generation in charge of accommodation, don’t be surprised if you get an Airbnb where ten blokes are sharing one toilet.

2.) It’s a lot less painful watching a bad England performance when you can consume beer beforehand and have such crap seats that you can’t see the big-screen replays.

3). Life doesn’t get much better than when a hit-squad of ten Slots manages to get an entire Lille restaurant on their feet singing Don McLean’s American Pie.

Yet more run-ins with Eddie

Locking horns with Eddie Jones became my burden in his latter England years and our hostility was resumed here in France. I think it was round three, in the press conference in Saint-Étienne after his Wallabies had been beaten by Fiji where he was looking for someone to pick on and his eyes alighted on me.

Jones tried to continue his verbal jousting with our man

SEBASTIEN BOZON/AFP/GETTY IMAGES

“No questions, Owen?” he asked. “You like to kick a dead man when he’s down.” I just shook my head and slunk deeper into my seat; I didn’t want to be a part of this live TV event and anyway, he was writing his own obituary here; he needed no help from the floor. Now, just a few weeks on, he is out of a job. Credit should go to some of the Australian journalists who are on the Wallabies’ beat; they did a good job of holding him to account despite his attempts to bully them.

Watching from the Ryder Cup

At the Ryder Cup, I rushed back on the Friday to watch New Zealand v Italy at my hotel. And, my, was Rome hot. So I got a beer and by the time I had been served, Italy were 7-0 down. I then took another beer outside to a colleague and by the time I got back to the TV, another converted try had Italy 14-3 behind. I then went back to finish a conversation with said colleague and when I got back, barely a quarter of the game was gone and the score was 28-3. At that point, I gave up with the hopeless Italians. They were the tournament’s crashing disappointment.

Trams, trains and standing-up meals

I arrived in France as a lover of rugby and song, and left as a train and tram aficionado. I just need Bradshaw’s Guide to go full Portillo. I came to know TGV inOui intimately. Double-decker trains with almost 20 carriages, most of them full, plus a dining area where you can stand up to eat your croque madame.

Paris Gare de Lyon to Marseille in just over three hours, even though the distance is greater than London to Edinburgh. East to west is slower: Bordeaux to Nice, via Marseille, was almost ten hours, salvaged by the route being a tour of rugby heartlands (Agen, Montauban, Toulouse, Carcassonne, Narbonne and Béziers). There were no cancellations and only one — minor — delay. The French king of the strike has been overthrown.

Singing the praises

As lovely as the Wales squad’s rendition of Calon Lân was in Versailles, it was blown out of the water by Fiji’s Noqu Masu, which seemed to be sung in eight-part harmony and has been engraved into my soul. Off the field, seas of red choristers were among Wales’s supporters and they combined as a mob choir before every game. All five were stirring occasions, and even Louvain Lake, mother of the squad’s co-captain Dewi, was involved.

Away from the tournament

Defeat in the quarter-final meant this was not the perfect World Cup that France wanted, but that should not detract from the many things the nation has nailed. The Pro D2 (second division) takes place on Thursday and Friday nights, the Top 14 on Saturday (with one 9pm kick-off on Sunday), and amateur matches are on Sunday afternoons. You could watch four professional matches live and still play grassroots rugby over a weekend in France.

Rather than stop for the entirety of the World Cup, Pro D2 organisers moved league fixtures: two rounds were played on Tuesday/Wednesday, and two rounds on Wednesday/Thursday. Nationale, the third tier, continued on Fridays and Saturdays, and I went to Massy for the suburban derby of Paris v Suresnes at Stade Jules Ladoumègue. What a fixture it was: Suresnes led 22-8 in the first half after Thomas Baudy slotted a drop-goal from near halfway by the touchline, before Massy scored two belters in quick succession and went on to win 36-25.

Inside the style (and nostrils) of French TV

While the UK was titillating at the ITV pundits’ political podiums on opening night, waiting for Jonny Wilkinson to stare at a ball, asking it to love him, we in France were treated to a two-hour build-up. Among the highlights were the camera trained on France’s team bus for the entirety of their journey to the stadium, replicating the pursuit of OJ Simpson, and the segment where Sébastien Chabal and the pop star, Mika, were on punditry together.

The lengthy opening-night warm-up was at odds with the general attitude to coverage. For future games, there would be almost no pre-match build-up, the programme starting minutes before kick-off, and there was never any half-time punditry, only 15 minutes of adverts. When punditry does arrive, it usually comes from the two commentators, who turn around to face a camera that takes us right into the nostrils of Benjamin Kayser, Dimitri Yachvili or Olivier Magne.

Springbok sportsmanship

I watched the French supporters quietly shrug their shoulders in Marseille as they saw their four-year plan come crashing down in Paris. Sad, but they smiled and tipped the waiter — not the end of the world. Meanwhile, Springbok players were bending down to lift the dejected French team from the turf in which they wanted to be buried. It was sportsmanship of the highest order and won the men in green a place in my heart.

The Fiji fans brought an electric atmosphere to the tournament

MICHAEL STEELE/GETTY IMAGES

Meeting the fans

Off the field there were a quartet of Kiwi fans I kept bumping into, in all parts of Paris and Lille. I tried to console them after the final — “the weather was against you.” They wouldn’t have it. They named the All Blacks stars who failed to spark. That, they thought, was life as they headed out of the station for a quiet beer. There was also the 25-year-old who believed in Pinochet’s economics. I couldn’t believe how a bright man could be so brainwashed, and he shrugged his head at an old lefty. But we listened to each other over a few wines. It was a 2am start to an individual detente. The World Cup brought us together, if only for a boozy night.

Cuts, scrapes and visits to A&E

It wasn’t just the Scotland team who suffered the odd mishap during the country’s short-lived stay at the World Cup. In the very first week of the tournament, we told how David Gibson, the veteran photographer, had been involved in a nasty car accident near Marseille but had survived to tell the tale. Gibbo outlasted us all, powering through the rest of the competition and taking his place on the touchline for the final in Paris.

Further misfortune afflicted the travelling Scottish (media) pack when Jamie Borthwick, the intrepid STV reporter, sliced open his hand while cutting bread at his rental property in Antibes, just along the coast from Scotland’s base in Nice. He had to have surgery in Cannes, which at least has a certain ring to it. When Gregor Townsend spotted Jamie’s bandage at the next press conference, the Scotland head coach revealed that George Turner, his first-choice hooker, had done exactly the same the night before the pool opener against South Africa.

“It just tugged a bit and I was like, ‘That bread is a bit tough’ — it was my hand,” Turner later recalled. “The doctor said I had to go to hospital, which was a bit of panic stations, but it was fine. He sewed me up straight away. Did it affect me on the field? Not really. I’ll maybe blame my bad [lineout] throwing on it.”

Best kit 1 Fiji away

Best kit 2 Argentina away

Best fans The French who packed out every game across the country. Ireland and Argentina made the most noise

Best stadium Stade Velodrome, Marseille

Best celebration 1 Ireland fans singing The Cranberries’ Zombie

Best celebration 2 Emilano Boffelli topless in the crowd after Argentina had beaten Wales, swinging his shirt above his head

Best celebration 3 Louis Rees-Zammit doing the “Siuuu” against Portugal

Biggest clock-up Owen Farrell being timed out taking a penalty against Samoa

Best quote 1 “Bundee [Aki] thinks they’re singing ‘Bundee, Bundee’ but they are definitely not” — Conor Murray on Zombie

Best quote 2 “Steve Borthwick is the Alan Turing of rugby. If anybody is going to crack the code to rugby, it will be him” — Jonny May

Best quote 3 “This is living” — Andy Farrell before Ireland v New Zealand

Best motto “Salads don’t win scrums” — South African prop Ox Nché

Biggest regret That 1am McDonalds UberEats order in Marseille

Favourite bar Guinguette de Tours sur Loire — riverside bar with live music in Tours

Best distraction from the rugby Paris Saint-Germain v AC Milan in the Champions League; incredible atmosphere, ridiculous skill level

Best new friend Guillaume Dufy from L’Equipe, who covered England’s whole campaign with great humour