It was a crap advertisemtn for the sport, amd the death knell for the current rules. The new experimental rules will be hastened. That final was an appalling advert for rugby. There was no attacking space at pace, no pick and go, no decent rollng mauls, just endless kicking and up and unders... induced by lack of any conatructive play.
Martin Johnson agrees.
Martin Johnson agrees.
England's sweet chariot had to turn sour
By Martin Johnson
Last Updated: 1:35am BST 22/10/2007
Have your say Read comments
Ah well, at least we'll now be spared the argument as to where it stands in the list of the world's greatest unsolved mysteries. No 1: the Mary Celeste. No 2: the Loch Ness Monster. No 3: How on earth did England win the 2007 Rugby World Cup?
Video referee right to disallow Mark Cueto try
The Amateur: Drowning the sorrows in Paris
Telegraph TV: Tears for England | In pics: England lose
The combination of a stadium situated in the middle of nowhere and another French rail strike didn't make life any rosier for English supporters as they trudged forlornly away into the night, and any form of primitive transport back into Paris would have been welcome. But finally, as we all thought it had to sooner or later, the sweet chariot itself had also ground to a halt.
Exhilarating: England's Mathew Tait breaks away
Up until the final, England had become the great survivors. Cast away on a desert island with a box of distress flares, but no other apparent means of sustaining life, they'd somehow managed to knock up a bijou beachfront apartment, and were dining out on coconut cocktails and grilled swordfish.
It was, though, too much to expect that they could actually win the tournament playing what you might call loincloth rugby, a compelling argument for the Darwinian theory of man's descent from the apes. Never has a team received so many bad luck messages before a big game, on the basis that the rest of the world didn't fancy having chimps for champs.
Mind you, South Africa more than played their part in turning the final match of an otherwise captivating tournament into a desperate advertisement for modern international rugby.
A kick-off close to bedtime, for the usual television-driven commercial reasons, made the urge to have someone turn off the floodlights so we could all get some sleep almost overpowering.
advertisementThere is a modern trend in all sports which presupposes that spectators are not capable of enjoying themselves without the provision of artificial entertainment, which is why you can't get through a one-day cricket match without having more parachutists descend from the sky than were deployed at Arnhem.
Here it was a French band, which burst into action every time there was a stoppage in play. The choice of music was a cross between old-time dancing, and the kind of Pathe newsreel ra-ra-ra that used to accompany those old British black and white wartime films, when the heroic tank commander (usually Sir John Mills) drove his Jeep triumphantly into town after liberating Benghazi.
The Great Escape only featured in the chanting from England's supporters, except that this time there wasn't to be one. Gordon Brown made the trip over, presumably to remind us that England had reached the final on a manifesto of austerity, thrift, and above all, a heavy taxation on the loyalties of all those who like a bit of joy in their rugby.
For all their admirable resilience and team bonding since their horrific pool defeat by South Africa, England have had more in common with a 1940s Churchill than Brown, in as much as they have nothing to offer their people other than toil and sweat. In four matches against the top-tier nations in this World Cup they've scored one try.
They nearly scored another early in the second half, following the only piece of genuinely exhilarating running rugby in the entire game, from Mathew Tait. It was, though, ruled out on video evidence, and although there was the consolation prize of a Jonny Wilkinson penalty to bring England within three points of the opposition, they never threatened to do anything quite as exciting again.
Mind you, South Africa offered precious little in this department either. All through this tournament Wilkinson has queried the pressure in the official World Cup balls, which is perhaps not surprising. It must be hard to keep the things properly inflated when the wind is being knocked out of them by ferocious application of the boot, and the only evidence of dazzling rugby came from players trying to spot the ball as it descended from the floodlights.
It's the modern way, it seems. Hoof the ball upfield to gain territory, and wait for the opposition to make a mistake running it back. Except that the opposition doesn't run it back, it does precisely the same thing.
Telegraph TV: Defeated in Paris
England might conceivably have won the game had they had 16 players, as they briefly did in the second half when a spectator – whose choice of shirt suggested that not all New Zealand supporters have yet made it home – ran on and joined an English ruck.
He will probably be in court this morning, with his French lawyer trying to get him off on the grounds that his urge to inject a bit of joie de vivre into the game constituted a crime of passion.
By Martin Johnson
Last Updated: 1:35am BST 22/10/2007
Have your say Read comments
Ah well, at least we'll now be spared the argument as to where it stands in the list of the world's greatest unsolved mysteries. No 1: the Mary Celeste. No 2: the Loch Ness Monster. No 3: How on earth did England win the 2007 Rugby World Cup?
Video referee right to disallow Mark Cueto try
The Amateur: Drowning the sorrows in Paris
Telegraph TV: Tears for England | In pics: England lose
The combination of a stadium situated in the middle of nowhere and another French rail strike didn't make life any rosier for English supporters as they trudged forlornly away into the night, and any form of primitive transport back into Paris would have been welcome. But finally, as we all thought it had to sooner or later, the sweet chariot itself had also ground to a halt.
Exhilarating: England's Mathew Tait breaks away
Up until the final, England had become the great survivors. Cast away on a desert island with a box of distress flares, but no other apparent means of sustaining life, they'd somehow managed to knock up a bijou beachfront apartment, and were dining out on coconut cocktails and grilled swordfish.
It was, though, too much to expect that they could actually win the tournament playing what you might call loincloth rugby, a compelling argument for the Darwinian theory of man's descent from the apes. Never has a team received so many bad luck messages before a big game, on the basis that the rest of the world didn't fancy having chimps for champs.
Mind you, South Africa more than played their part in turning the final match of an otherwise captivating tournament into a desperate advertisement for modern international rugby.
A kick-off close to bedtime, for the usual television-driven commercial reasons, made the urge to have someone turn off the floodlights so we could all get some sleep almost overpowering.
advertisementThere is a modern trend in all sports which presupposes that spectators are not capable of enjoying themselves without the provision of artificial entertainment, which is why you can't get through a one-day cricket match without having more parachutists descend from the sky than were deployed at Arnhem.
Here it was a French band, which burst into action every time there was a stoppage in play. The choice of music was a cross between old-time dancing, and the kind of Pathe newsreel ra-ra-ra that used to accompany those old British black and white wartime films, when the heroic tank commander (usually Sir John Mills) drove his Jeep triumphantly into town after liberating Benghazi.
The Great Escape only featured in the chanting from England's supporters, except that this time there wasn't to be one. Gordon Brown made the trip over, presumably to remind us that England had reached the final on a manifesto of austerity, thrift, and above all, a heavy taxation on the loyalties of all those who like a bit of joy in their rugby.
For all their admirable resilience and team bonding since their horrific pool defeat by South Africa, England have had more in common with a 1940s Churchill than Brown, in as much as they have nothing to offer their people other than toil and sweat. In four matches against the top-tier nations in this World Cup they've scored one try.
They nearly scored another early in the second half, following the only piece of genuinely exhilarating running rugby in the entire game, from Mathew Tait. It was, though, ruled out on video evidence, and although there was the consolation prize of a Jonny Wilkinson penalty to bring England within three points of the opposition, they never threatened to do anything quite as exciting again.
Mind you, South Africa offered precious little in this department either. All through this tournament Wilkinson has queried the pressure in the official World Cup balls, which is perhaps not surprising. It must be hard to keep the things properly inflated when the wind is being knocked out of them by ferocious application of the boot, and the only evidence of dazzling rugby came from players trying to spot the ball as it descended from the floodlights.
It's the modern way, it seems. Hoof the ball upfield to gain territory, and wait for the opposition to make a mistake running it back. Except that the opposition doesn't run it back, it does precisely the same thing.
Telegraph TV: Defeated in Paris
England might conceivably have won the game had they had 16 players, as they briefly did in the second half when a spectator – whose choice of shirt suggested that not all New Zealand supporters have yet made it home – ran on and joined an English ruck.
He will probably be in court this morning, with his French lawyer trying to get him off on the grounds that his urge to inject a bit of joie de vivre into the game constituted a crime of passion.
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