At the Stade de France
And yet the cold snap was clear. And severe. From more than 30 degrees dripping on September 8 for the opening match against the All Blacks to less than 10 degrees freezing for this quarter-final against the Spingboks. Enough to freeze any audience but not that of the Stade de France. Hot, boiling hot this Sunday evening, around the Saint-Denis lawn, in hearts and chests, hands and throats. And what a joy to see mixed together, sitting side by side, and/or with a beer in hand, blue and green jerseys, French and South Africans, Europeans and Africans, men and women who do not do not insult but defend their colors. Simply. Without acrimony or hatred.
The (real) first to light the fire, beyond the noisy animators, was a certain Antoine Dupont. And Toto’s head (repaired and helmeted) on the giant screens triggered gigantic reactions. Like the thunderous start to the match of the Blues quickly upset by the Springboks. The “Allez les Bleus” and the Marseillaise flowed from the aisles to encourage, support, push, transcend Fabien Galthié’s men. With six attempts in half an hour (!), the spectacle was sublime and the fight, Homeric. Big, beautiful, rugby the way we like it. With an Ola and a great evening audience.
If half-time brought down the excitement, the Pena Baiona reignited the enthusiasm, reminding the whole world of the importance of the South-West in French rugby. At the heart of a second act more locked down and still incandescent, the Basque Charles Ollivon was not the last to pound the opposing defense to pick up the score and be able to continue dreaming of the big evening, a Cup raised in the sky of Saint-Denis . In vain. In the end, there were South African winners and French defeats, green people crazy with happiness and terribly disappointed blue people, in tears. For a small point. Merciless law of sport. The cold snap was therefore very real at the Stade de France.
