IT'S THE FINAL COUNTDOWN
Graham Henry was asked, barely 30 minutes after the All Blacks had reached the World Cup final for the first time since 1995, whether all they had to do to grab hold of the Webb Ellis Cup was to turn up at Eden Park next Sunday.
The questioner had no faith in France's ability to make a contest of the final, never mind to add to New Zealand's roll-call of heartache in the tournament. Henry, probably preparing for his final match as the All Blacks coach, was never going to walk into so obvious a trap.
The job had not been done, was his response, and it was important everyone understood that. He could have reminded his inquisitor that when the All Blacks met France in the 2007 quarter-final in Cardiff, they were expected to crush a side that had lost to Argentina on the opening night.
They found themselves on a plane the following day, bound not for Paris but Auckland, victims of France's capacity to confound, as they had been in 1999. Henry knows, as well as anyone, that just because Les Bleus have bungled and burgled their way to the final does not mean they will act like extras in a Jacques Tati movie come the big night.
It will be France's third final. Their other two appearances, in 1987, when they lost to New Zealand at Eden Park, and 1999, when they were beaten by Australia in Cardiff, were the only two finals that have not been remotely close, double-figure margins that reflected their one-sided nature.
France had reached the 1987 final after a rousing victory over Australia in Sydney in the semi-final, a result that so disgusted the then Wallabies' coach Alan Jones, who had not anticipated such French resistance, that he questioned whether his side should turn up for the third-place play-off against Wales.
In 1999, France astonished New Zealand with a rousing second-half comeback in what remains the most invigorating World Cup semi-final but, like eight years before, having dug deep into their reserves to get to the last day, they were unable to mine any more and faded gently into the good afternoon, as it then was.
France have at least taken a different route this year after a display against Wales on Saturday night that was English in the disciplined way Les Bleus resisted any temptation to exploit their early man advantage over Wales by getting drawn into an open game.
They kicked for position, kicked their goals and kicked Wales out whereas they had done it for kicks 12 years before and 12 years before that. They did no more than they had to against Wales. They aimed low and did not miss. They were damned for playing so within themselves that three of their three-quarters carried the ball not one centimetre between them while the fourth, Vincent Clerc, was credited with 14 metres, which was probably reflected by the distance he covered in the air when Sam Warburton tackled him in the 18th minute.
Winning semi-finalists have no reason to apologise or justify themselves. France did what they had to against Wales, and no more, and it is being taken as evidence that they not only have less than no chance of beating the All Blacks but that they are the least worthy finalists ever, even less of an adornment than England were four years ago.
France have been their typical mass of contradictions this tournament, not just from game to game, the low against Tonga was followed by the high of finally getting one over on England in a knock-out match, but during them: apart from Samoa's second-half siege of South Africa's territory, the most compelling rugby this tournament came in the opening 10 minutes of New Zealand's pool match with France at Eden Park last month.
The All Blacks barely touched the ball in the opening 10 minutes as France, passing crisply, off-loading and using decoy runners to create space, got in behind a New Zealand team that contained Dan Carter. Eden Park was hardly silent because thousands of French supporters were making themselves heard, but there was a sense of foreboding in the home ranks.
And then France had to defend; game over before 30 minutes were up. Those daring to hope that Sunday will be more than a homecoming for the trophy after a long period in exile can cling to those first 10 minutes when the sides last met as evidence that France have more to them than they showed against Wales.
Teams seem to have been judged here on their last game. The angst after New Zealand's stodgy second-half against Tonga in the tournament opener has long been forgotten even though the burning issue for days was that Henry's policy of rotating selection was going to come back to take him prisoner.
One game at a time and all that. France have been attacked for abandoning their principles and heritage, but are they what it takes to World Cups? Their coach Marc Lievremont comes across like a schoolmaster trying in vain to control unruly pupils, yet there was something theatrical about his complaints on Sunday that they disobeyed his instruction not to drink after the Wales victory.
It is as if he is in a dark room groping around for a light switch. He seems to have found one that comes on intermittently. The more he presses it, the longer it works.
