To suggest that France are in some state of euphoria as they start planning for their third World Cup final would be to stretch things. Having said that, Marc Lièvremont went to bed in a bad mood, and woke up in a good mood. So, that's something.
It didn't last too long. He had asked his players not to go out after their victory over Wales, conscious that the French celebrations in 1999, after the team in which he was wing-forward had beaten the All Blacks in the Sunday semi-final at Twickenham, had gone on for four days. They were not in the best condition to face Australia in the final, and here in Auckland he had asked the team of 2011 to be aware of what can happen. They went out anyway.
"I told them what I thought of them – that they're a bunch of undisciplined spoilt brats, disobedient, sometimes selfish, always complaining, always whining. It's been like this for four years," he said.
It was, he sighed, one of the "details," of France's World Cup. One of those little things, wasn't it, like, the night before, the players going in their bus straight to the car park at the back of the hotel and not stopping to acknowledge the fans, in their hundreds, who had gathered at the front? Lièvremont shrugged. "Thanks for bringing that up." Another detail. The coach had gone down to thank the supporters on behalf of the players.
Had the coach spoken to the players about this, about going out? "Yes." And? "They appreciated it."
It would appear that the big chill lives on in the French changing room. But, as their coach pointed out, "I don't know if the better team won, but we're in the final."
Others were not so pleased. "France in Final Insult," offered the Sunday Herald, referring to the lack of footie being played by the French team, their singular absence of ambition. "Now, that is insulting, to us," said Lièvremont.
To be fair to the France coach, it is precisely because his side refuses to embrace any style other than that of their own choosing that he is in a strange place with them. As in, shunned by them. He could praise their defensive work and their discipline, especially in the last phases of play, all 27 of them, when they denied Wales the position for a drop goal, but his exasperation, expressed in public, at what he perceives to be their fear of casting off their inhibitions has, as the saying goes, lost him the changing room.
He talked in general terms about what they would do this week but, given that he knows a lot about other details of his team's behaviour, he could not go into the minutiae of their rugby. Because presumably they have not told him yet.
There was nothing wrong with the French lineout on Saturday, which means they will not be afraid to kick to touch in the final. Lionel Nallet and Imanol Harinordoquy picked off the Welsh throw in at will, even if there were no signs that their driving maul, usually a pretty useful tool if you are not going to entrust the ball to your three-quarters, was particularly well coordinated.
But to think they are going to try to win the World Cup by pinching ball at the lineout and mauling it forward is a dismal prospect. The final has not always been an outpouring of unfettered adventure, but nor has it rewarded complete negativity with the prize. France are going to have to earn it.
How though? They made all of one break against Wales and made all of about 10 paces as a collective. They thumped the ball down the field and into the corners. Please, may that not be good enough to win the World Cup. Not France.
Perhaps they think it is time somebody else brought the final stages of the tournament to life. After all, they have done more than their fair share of making sweet music: against Australia in 1987, South Africa in the semi of 1995, New Zealand in 1999 and 2007. Why should everyone expect France to be beautiful when the Cup tends to go to bulldozers: South Africa, England and Australia?
Because they are France, and they are not very good at pretending to be anyone else. Jacques Fouroux in the early 1980s tried to make them more Anglo-Saxon and measured but they were better off being unrestrained and unpredictable. How strange it is now that it is the players who have adopted caution, the tone set by their modern-day little generals, Morgan Parra and Dimitri Yachvili. Either the one kicked against Wales, or the other kicked.
At least the continuation of the policy will reduce the need for detail in training. Or perhaps, out of sight of their coach, they are planning something different. Alexis Palisson was protected against Wales from anything to do with the ball. Vincent Clerc had to survive a moment upside down at the hands of Sam Warburton, but the wings are fresh.
In their seventh and final match against New Zealand – "It has been my dream since childhood to play the All Blacks in a World Cup final," said Lièvremont – this may be priceless. To have wings who have grown accustomed to the conditions of springtime New Zealand and who remain hungry for the ball, to unleash them is all part of the grand plan. And coach and players will hug on Sunday, go out together and drink Auckland senseless. Please don't take any of that as gospel.
