Peter Bills: Awful Biarritz betray game's great virtues
Pter Bills 'Biarritz played no rugby in the semi-final. All they did was keep the game as tight as possible, kick away possession and tackle anything that moved.' Photo: Getty Images
Time was, when losing a game of rugby was a minor inconvenience when set against a raucous night of drinking and partying.
Sometimes, defeated teams joined their conquerors for a night of celebration, content that the spectacle was so exalted they had participated in a wondrous piece of entertainment.
Right, now let's put that aside, and talk of Munster's defeat to Biarritz last weekend. No wonder the dining area where the Munster players ate after the game resembled more a funeral parlour.
To misquote that renowned Irish outside centre Oscar Wilde, to lose a Heineken Cup semi-final may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose it to a team playing no rugby just looks careless.
You could have the wool pulled over your eyes completely by the whole Biarritz experience at the weekend, especially if you had been there on Sunday night as the Biarritz supporters returned to the town like conquering heroes.
Fans cruised around in cars, hammering their horns in joyous scenes.
The restaurant of one of Biarritz's greatest players, Pascal Ondarts, overlooking the old port, throbbed as people ate, drank and made merry. Outside, one crackpot lit a flare and turned on pounding music as he stood on the top of an open-top truck moving through the streets.
There was just one thing wrong with all this. Everyone was living a lie. Unless you accept the preposterous theory that winning at any cost is all that matters, that style, substance and entertainment is irrelevant in the modern game, then you had to condemn Biarritz for their atrocious rugby. Frankly, they were a disgrace.
Within an hour of the final whistle a French journalist texted me with a blunt message. "Awful game and the worst is coming with a Biarritz victory in the final," was the pithy message. And it added: "How can Serge Blanco be President of a club representing such a negative image of the sport to which he gave another appeal?"
Fair point.
Biarritz played no rugby in the semi-final. All they did was keep the game as tight as possible, kick away possession and tackle anything that moved.
They sought only to feed off the errors of their opponents and, as Munster tired, doubtless frustrated by the defensive wall in front of them, those mistakes climaxed in four penalty goals in the final 17 minutes to win the game.
But this was a shocking advertisement for rugby, especially in a professional age financed by TV in which entertainment surely has to matter. It demeaned the Heineken Cup, now the northern hemisphere's greatest tournament.
Biarritz scorned all that and played in a manner which would have appalled Blanco in his playing days. He espoused a joyous approach, ball in hand with the counter-attack a lethal and invigorating weapon.
The great irony of Biarritz is that in Iain Balshaw and Takudzwa Ngwenya, they possess two of the fastest, most dangerous back-three runners in French or European rugby. Yet whenever they gained possession even in plenty of space, they got rid of the ball at the earliest opportunity. Coaches dictate that, not players.
horrible
Now you can say that semi-finals are often like this, that the pressure of the occasion and the need to avoid that horrible feeling of missing the final, overrides every other consideration. That's partly true. But the trouble is, Biarritz seem to play like this most of the time.
They risk nothing, attempt little. Theirs is an exercise solely in defensive survival, in hanging on, and hoping that their opponents make critical errors. Is this the way to uphold rugby's great virtues?
I accept, if you have nobody of ability outside the scrum, by all means play a restricted nine or 10-man game. But in Biarritz's case, they have the players, but simply don't use them for 90pc of the game.
They showed nothing against Munster, bar Dimitri Yachvili's immaculate goal-kicking, the industry of their forwards and a solid defence.
Call me a romantic if you must. But I don't buy the Biarritz style. It's garbage to watch and must be garbage to play for anyone with the remotest sense of rugby adventure and style.
The great chapters of Heineken history have been written by teams prepared to have a go, to attack, to attempt to grab the glory. Munster, Toulouse, Leinster, Wasps, Leicester -- they have all had the courage to seize the moment.
In my book, great nights have to be earned. Biarritz didn't earn theirs on Sunday.
- Peter Bills
Irish Independent
