Wales v France
Friday night in Auckland and a gang of Welsh rugby fans are sharing a drink and some friendly banter with the French. Resplendent in a gleaming red shirt, a Welsh fan has just finished a long and crowd pleasing monologue to demonstrate the superiority of Wales above France. He concludes:
‘So my lovely, Wales is God’s own country, full of God’s own people, eating God’s own food. We play God’s own game of rugby and we’re going to thrash you tomorrow. What do you say to that?’
Le Bleu, a portly French man, with a blue beret to demonstrate his origins, responds:
‘Ah Monsieur, it is obvious we cannot compete.’
Wales: ‘I knew it, surrendered already. Bring on the All Blacks.’ Cheers abound.
Le Bleu thinks for a second and decides to elaborate.
‘After all, who are we to compare… You are leeks and we mere onions, Caerphilly above Camembert. How can h’aute cuisine compare with laverbread and croissants be preferred to Welsh cakes. Of course, you are right mon ami.’
The Welsh cheer again.
Wales says: ‘Oh, I don’t mind a croissant like. Lovely, fluffy they are’
Le Bleu: ‘I ‘ave seen Caernarfon Castle and like our rugby team, the palace of Versailles is nothing to compare. And Mont Blanc, just four times as high as Snowdon, demonstrates how we must try four times as ‘ard as your team to win.’
Wales: ‘Maybe not four, Frenchie, maybe not four.’
Le Bleu: ‘Should we take pride in the Foreign Legion, it is because we ignore the Welsh guards. As you say, Giggs and Bale would have run rings around Platini and Cantona and Richard Burton makes a nun of Depardieu.’
Wales: ‘Steady on mate, ooh ahh la Cantona and all that.’
Le Bleu: ‘You are right, mon dragon rouge. Anglesey above Mont St Michel.
La France is a simple land of simple people. We make words out of a single vowel, when you name places with one ’undred consonants. Why enjoy the joie de vivre of centuries of winemaking, when you can drink some-zing called ‘bitter’ and called ‘Brains’?
Wales: ‘Exactly, Frenchie, exactly my point.’
The Welsh are smiling, they’re winning and they’re enjoying it and they’re smiling quite a lot. The French are attentive in their silence, neither disengaged, nor raucous.
Le Bleu, looks back to his compatriots. He shrugs with his shoulder and hands, as if to apologise for such a public defeat. And before turning back to the happy Welsh hordes, he winks.
Le Bleu : ‘It’s just…no, it’s nothing.’
Wales: ‘C’mon Bluey, spit it out.’
Le Bleu: ‘God does love Wales my friend, he gave you Shirley Bassey and Katherine Jenkins to show his love. But, I must tell you that God is a French man.’
The Welsh men mumble in low tones. Breath is drawn in, then blown out.
Wales: ‘Never! Prove it.’
Le Bleu: ‘Listen carefully my friend and you will understand why God gave France Edith Piaf and why tomorrow, as in every day in ‘eaven, she will raise the sun with La Marseillaise.’
French backs straightened and heads rose at the mention of their anthem.
Le Bleu continues, increasingly strident and growing in volume:
‘God did not give France a Blodwyn, he gave us a Binoche.
And if God had to limit the world to just one Catherine, it would NOT BE JENKINS!’
Wales: ‘Aaaw, but she’s proper tidy man. Who then?’
Silence hung between the men.
Le Bleu looked around surreptitiously, then waved his finger to draw in Wales for a conspiratorial whisper.
‘It would be Deneuve.
God is a French man, my friend.
He might even be Cyrano.’
And to coincide with his final words, he drew his finger to his face once more to say:
‘And France will win tomorrow…by a nose.’
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27 Comments
Mais oui OFP: Allez les Bleu :-D
Geri - Me in Auckland? No, footy's my game. The 'by a nose' ending is derived from Cyrano. The lad next door is a massive rugby fan, but he's been taken seriously ill. I wrote this in homage to his spirit. One of his teacher's posted that Wales would win the cup on his Facebook page and the reply was just brilliant, he said 'enough bad things have happened to me lately without Wales winning the World Cup.' Top man.
Alan P - I know what you mean. He did speak French rather fluently, but if he'd have spoken Welsh fluently, the conspiracy theorists would have had as field day.
John Onceupon - feeling your pain.
Wales were robbed.
Back to the Bleus - they can allez all they want but they're doing it in a foreigner's tongue (evolved from Latin).
I'm not sure I am an Englishman, certainly when it comes to sports....If you look at my wall you may see my comment about winning £200 on France beating the English last week.
I served in the French Military so my attachment to the "French Flair" of rugby is semi justified.
Wales played an heroic game ,....and lost.... and that is sport.
Wales are in the accendancy in rugby so get your six nations bets in now. Wales have had their share of idiots...Henson, Powel and Phillips to name a few but they brought great credit to themselves in how they acted on tour.
England on the other hand......deserved what they got....
It was in any case, a great game.
great blog by the way..
Gerry,
Gaelic dialect is spoken in SW France by the Basque. True French is a Latin language in much the same way as English is a Germanic language..... eins, zwie, three four,
Hi Whisks - something happened. Some tall and some fast Northern European men ran around and ran into each other a lot this morning. It was kinda intercontinental, because they did it in New Zealand.
The Celtic language in France is Breton, spoken in Brittany (Asterix's Armorica) up in the top left, and it is so similar to Welsh that speakers of the two languages can understand each other's speech, though the spelling is very different (as in the number of Breton place names that begin with 'Ker' = Welsh 'Caer').
As for the match, gutted they are round yur. The local rugby clubhouse opened its doors at 7.30 this morning to serve breakfast to those who wanted to come and watch the match on the big screen. And then THAT happened. 'We wuz robbed!' is the general sentiment, and I reckon they were.
It was a grand game and in loss Wales will be better for it with such an experience for such a young side. I think the tackle was very bad and rated at least a yellow. I speak from some experience on the matter of being sent off rugby pitches as I was often misunderstood or clumsy with my feet and fists. Warburton's comments of no malice intended in the tackle are laughable when watching the replay.
Whisks, It is a game played by men with odd shaped balls....
As it was France were sufficiently useless that they almost lost anyway. Had they been playing with a proper ball instead of this randomising thing the result would have been different in any event.
What seems to me is so, is that by this one decision not only was the semi final determined but also the final. France will bottle it and get stomped. Wales would have put up a proper contest.
(I'm English and used to it)
I still think of that terrible decision; but only a dozen or so times every day of my life!
Language - I know noithing of the history so thanks for the lessons. Welsh is amazing in that to my layman's eye, you can't even rely on a phonetic guess. It really is foreign.
Rugby - I agree Wales would have made a better final of it than I think France will. Given that the tackle has divided opinion amongst the professionals, a referral to the TV judge would have at least avoided some of the sense of injustice.
OFP - I shall remember to have a yellow card ready should your posts on here be misundertood or considered clumsy ;-) Hee hee.
Gerry, Barry - I'd forgotten that. Was that the Barcelona game, because I still thought they were going to win that until the last 15 mins. Football is littered with injustices, I guess all sports are. Can I suggest you look up Michael Thomas' goal at Anfield to focus on a happy memory.
To my mind the tackle was a perfect judo momentum hip throw, Hani goshi if I remember correctly several decades ago. Instictive? malicious? a matter of opinion... but it was dangerous.
AS for deciding the final, I say not a chance. The only consistant thing about the French is their inconsistancy. They will bring a suitably entertaining unpredictability to the Final and I can think of no team the All Blacks would least like to play than the French after a bad performance.
Allez les Bleu......
Old Fat Pillier.......
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