Out of breath and short of ideas, the Bordeaux-Bègles Union was scattered on Friday evening like a puzzle by the red and black bogeyman. In Marseille, he signed a second double in four years and consolidated his hegemony over the championship.
The people of Bordeaux wanted to make history. They did it for the wrong reasons and, at the moment of turning our backs on the Vélodrome, we finally say to ourselves that the only Girondin who has ever really succeeded in Marseille is none other than Jean-Pierre Papin. Never, in two centuries, has a Top 14 final ended with such a difference in the score. Never, in the final round of the big fight, had a finalist flattened nine attempts, compared to zero in his defeat of the day. Here, the words hurt and at the time of the debrief, are like so many donuts thrown in the face of this team who had nevertheless given us languorous glances throughout the season. If we are so disappointed, it is because we wanted to believe in it, in fact, in this final fireworks display. We wanted to trust the romantics of all persuasions who, before the match, reminded us not without emphasis that a final does not establish continuous control or that a surge of collective transcendence would always allow David to overthrow Goliath. And then ? The irrationality of sport and the magic of the final phases were met with a door in the middle… After a quarter of an hour, the body language of the Bordelo-Béglais was no longer deceiving and, faced with the muleta that was waving in the face to him the red and black bullfighter, Maxime Lucu and his comrades moved their heads in all directions, no longer really knowing where to defend, nor how to attack…
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Top 14 Final – “The Texas Chainsaw Massacre”: Midol’s opinion after Toulouse – Bordeaux-Bègles
It was total rugby, fatal rugby which scattered the Bordelo-Béglais like a puzzle in Marseille. « Very quickly, said Yannick Bru at a press conference, we saw that we n’was not invited. Very quicklyolost the arm wrestling and behind that, we had our wrist broken under the table. » That Stade Toulousain, who won their second double in four years on Friday evening, produced the masterpiece of their season on Friday evening is one certainty. That their opponents today completely gave up on the match after an hour of play is another. “My players are looking for records, Ugo Mola whispered at the end of the match. They want to be first everywhere. But what I like is the process, the path and above all, the content.”. What he likes, too, is to be able to rely on a guy named Dupont and who, author of two essays on this lawn where he had recently lost part of his cheekbone, strives to hide behind the surname the most common in France, a talent which, at this stage of insolence, no longer has anything human in it. And as far back as we can remember, the only “Dupont law” that should have ever seen the light of day is this: any team playing with the said “Toto” in its ranks should systematically start the match with a handicap of fifteen points…
A mafia cassoulet hit
In twenty years, we will say to our kids: “I had the chance to see Antoine Dupont play”. Without realizing that we are aping the white heads who are telling us the same refrain today, but about Serge Blanco, Gareth Edwards or Jonah Lomu, so many guys who have not only excelled in their discipline, but have transformed their position. We will also tell them that one disastrous evening in June, we had the misfortune of attending a funeral ceremony in prime time, a finale which ultimately was not one, because we were unable to deliver to Marseille the emotions that ‘it usually arouses in all of us. The beautiful UBB, rinsed by its barrage against Racing then wormed by the malabars of the Stade français, simply no longer had enough breath to survive what the reigning European champion offered it, at the Vélodrome. In this sense, one would have to be very stupid to believe that Ludovic Cayre, the man in the center, was angry with the Girondins for a single moment when they seemed to be behind all their support.
And how can we evoke a new Trafalgar coup by the cassoulet mafia jointly hatched by Bouscatel and Lacroix, when the pack of Bordeaux forwards was miles away from the roughness that this kind of meeting requires? Sic transit gloria mundi*, my funny ones… And for having dared to challenge the best team in the world – at a time when Super Rugby is in decline, it goes without saying that a Toulouse / Blues match would turn out to be advantageous of the French champion – with Matthieu Jalibert, Bordeaux suffered the divine wrath and was scattered like a puzzle, proving that in rugby, an injured person up to the task is rare like a swindler on his own account. SO ? While waiting for the ravages of time to one day catch up with this Toulouse generation or for the League, having always feared that hegemony would one day undermine its economic model, to launch an American-style “draft” system in our latitudes , the Bordeaux-Bègles Union is now forced to live with this filthy scar on its face…
Thus passes the glory of the world *
