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France fluff their lines (35)

• Bryn Palmer
• 8 Sep 07, 07:49 AM

Paris - Ooh la la! Quel cauchemar. France鈥檚 dream of a World Cup victory on home soil has already become the stuff of nightmares.

An evening that began in a mood of joyous celebration and optimism ended in and despair for the host nation.

They fluffed their opening lines in the most infuriatingly French manner possible, but the indefatigable Pumas were the most passionate and predatory of party poopers.

It shouldn鈥檛 have come as such a shock.

Argentina had beaten France in four of their last five meetings, and that sole French victory came by a single point.

But this was certainly the most significant victory in Argentine rugby history, a declaration to the world that, as captain said: 鈥淲e exist鈥�.

They had heroes wherever you looked 鈥� the rotund prop Rodrigo Roncero, who barely had the strength to hobble off at the end; the marvellous Mario Ledesma, who returned to the field later with his daughter in his arms, savouring every last moment; the colossal Juan Manuel Leguizamon, who hurled himself at the French with little concern for personal safety.

They reduced the French, playing harum scarum rugby with little control, to a shambles long before the end, in contrast to the vivid choreography of the opening ceremony beforehand.

The space-age Stade de France was a riot of colour, with four blocks of spectators - on either side and at each end 鈥� bedecked in bibs of red, blue, yellow or green.

The spectacle featured 54 drummers banging red metal dustbins, and four squads of 40-odd dancers dressed in what looked like American football-style protective gear, cycling helmets and black-and-white shorts.

They performed their routines to a raucous din that reached a crescendo when a former player from each of the 20 countries bounded into the centre of the pitch.

First there was Pumas legend Hugo Porta, who brought out the match ball. There were extra loud cheers for Keith Wood, Jonah Lomu 鈥� looking particularly natty in a grey suit with tails 鈥� and Gareth Edwards.

But the roar reached a crescendo with the appearance of Jean-Pierre Rives, the firebrand blond flanker of French folklore.

Sadly, his modern-day equivalent, the wonderfully named Remy Martin, could not live up to the legend鈥檚 legacy.

He played a decisive hand in what proved the only try of the game, summing up the ragged nature of France鈥檚 desperate first-half display.

Damien Traille had caught the latest in a series of high bombs from Juan Martin Hernandez, and put Martin into space in a promising attacking position.

A pass over the top to one of the two men outside him would have yielded an overlap, but his rushed attempt went straight to Pumas wing Lucas Borges.

Moments later the rampaging Ignacio Corleto was steaming in at the right corner and Argentina were deservedly 14-3 ahead.

English referee Tony Spreadbury hadn鈥檛 endeared himself to the locals by penalising the French three times in the opening half-hour, and each time the magnificent Felipe Contepomi had punished them.

The qualified doctor had earlier lit up the game with a delightful 鈥榮how and go鈥� manoeuvre before a pass out of the back of hand to Borges of the highest class.

France, by contrast, were a bag of nerves, scrum-half Pierre Mignoni twice fumbling early on, Christophe Dominici throwing out a pass to no-on in particular.

One thrilling counter-attack saw the crowd erupt in appreciation only for the giant wing Aurelien Rougerie to be held up in the right corner.

Intermittent chants of 鈥淎llez les Bleus鈥漝rifted across the stadium, as did a brief attempt at 鈥淟a Marseillaise鈥� with half an hour left, but it failed to lift the players.

Even after a superb driving maul to within inches of the Pumas line and several minutes of hurling themselves at it, the release valve for all that pent-up French frustration stayed shut.

Rougerie went galloping away again before another move broke down, David Skrela missed an easy penalty that might have calmed nerves, and his replacement, the maverick Frederic Michalak, scuffed an absolute sitter with 10 minutes left.

Even the introduction of the prowling Sebastien Chabal failed to unduly trouble the Pumas.

They looked to be tiring badly with 20 minutes left, the effects of their stirring first-half tempo apparently catching up with them.

But they roused themselves again, and four times the admirable Contepomi might have hammered the final nail in the French coffin.

First, after a rare Pumas break-out, he dropped Corleto鈥檚 pass when a clinching try beckoned. Then he missed a drop-goal attempt. Then two more penalties in the final three minutes, each time granting the hosts another stay of execution.

But Spreadbury blew his whistle for the final time, and the guillotine fell on France.

No team has ever won the World Cup having lost a pool game. And one doubts whether the hosts can fully recover from such a devastating blow to their self-esteem.

Bryn Palmer is the 91热爆 Sport website鈥檚 rugby union editor.

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