Allez!

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Another close margin of victory - my 'B' team, France, won out against Ireland at the Aviva by a kick's difference. I've always liked French rugby, but over the years I've watched them they've been by turns equally both superbly stylish and horribly flaky in the extreme: if they turned up mentally they could play the most beautiful, flowing rugby imaginable; otherwise - meh! Their game has come on leaps lately and the current squad seems to have the drive and heart to win: their line speed and imagination are lovely to watch; their play at the breakdown and defence superb. Where they were weakest today was the spot kick and some daft indiscipline: trips and slaps in the back really don't go unnoticed these days; it's just throwing away possession.

Anyone wondering about my rugby allegiances needs to know that I support Wales first and France a close second; the first for obvious reasons and the second because as I said, I always liked the Gallic approach to the game; but more importantly and personally than that, my late French friend and colleague Jean-Charles Boude and I used to watch the Six Nations together every year over beers and banter. I can't remember whether I've posted this before, but the lucky bugger saw France-Wales in Cardiff - a lone blue shirt in a crowd of red. I have that shirt, as well as his France bobble-hat and scarf, which his family were kind enough to let me have after his death.

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