Perpignan v Tigers Match Review

“Where ‘av you been?” Asked the incredibly French Customs man late on Sunday Night in Calais. “Perpignan”. “Ah!” (His eyes lit up) “You Lost!” Yes, Thanks for that (we thought) “Maybe next week you ‘av better luck”

He seemed to find this incredibly amusing, pointing our Tigers’ badges out to his friends and waving us off on our way without a cursory glance at our passports. Typical France, and why I love it! Two minutes later, the humourless British border patrol had double the queue and half the fun. You could see the rain clouds in the eyes of the diligent but sour faced attendant. Away trips to Europe are the highlight of the season for many Tigers fans, and are much more than just a rugby match. What follows is a vague recollection helped by a few notes, but not by a recording of the game, or the festivities. Luckily they weren’t recorded. I think….

It’s not just the lack of a salary cap that makes top-flight players look longingly towards the south of France. Having wined, dined and sunned ourselves in 20 degree heat in the middle of winter, hundreds of the travelling Tigers contingent were tempted to stay! Heineken Cup encounters usually involve some key ingredients; a passionate and competitive encounter, some crazy locals, lots of drunkenness, and occasionally some cultural bits thrown in for luck. This one was no exception. From the moment we arrived to our customs man friend as we left, the welcome we received was warm, friendly and good-humoured. Particular high points were the excellent receptions in the fans clubhouse, the atmosphere before, during and after the match and at the obligatory Irish bar. If you’ve never been away with Tigers to Italy or France then get it sorted for next year. The Tigers contingent came by Plane, Train and Automobile. Most flying in for a few days. You get an interesting mix on Tigers’ trips, from the hard core that will literally go to the ends of the earth, to casual weekend trippers, couples that fancy a holiday and lads on rugby tour where the game is incidental. The more the merrier I say, but reserve the utmost respect for the hardcore coach trippers.

We were part of the Automobile contingent. The last time I’d taken on a pan European drive was part of the Ramshakle Rally, where teams of 4 buy a car for £150 and travel to Valencia in 4 days. Our trusty rallymobile was a J-Reg 309 diesel called Mary. This time we had the benefit of an E-Class Estate, a much easier ride and the sweet beauty of cruise control. But the monotonous grind was much the same. Cruising along at a diesel efficient speed is pretty dull in any car. But, at least we had the speed if we needed it. The professional rugby season is like a long haul drive through Europe, followed by a sprint round Le Mans. Mary can just about cope with the long haul but she’d have no chance in a race. The Mercedes is comfortable with both. Which car are Tigers this season? The nay sayers and moaners see the 60 mph cruising speed and assume we are Mary, but the heights of the performance at home to Llanelli suggested the Merc. This weekend would give us another clue as to whether we had the big games inside us. In reality, a losing bonus point here and a win next week and we’d be sitting pretty. But we desperately wanted to follow up the London Irish game by nailing another big one away. With three wins in a row, the doom and gloom merchants were taking a back seat and the glass half full brigade were coming to the fore.

While long, our drive was uneventful and we were all awake for the final leg between 7 and 10 on Friday Morning, taking in the beautiful views from the Millau viaduct, should the end of Tigers season look so fine we would all be happy. At this stage tiredness and delirium had possibly kicked in as the Christmas CD blared out and alternative lyrics were proposed for ‘the 12 days of Tigers’, ‘Oh we wish it could be Europe every day (when the first team play and we try to win away)’ and bizarrely ‘Mary’s boy child Jordan Crane’. Upon arrival, our group fell in love with an Argentine Restaurant that served proper front row portions. A flyer for El Gaucho (www.el-gaucho.fr) was the first thing we saw in the hotel, and the planned siesta was suddenly dropped for an afternoon of Steak, a cultural tour of the castle and a visit to some café’s that happened to serve beer. Our ‘tiredness’ was noticeable by the time we made our way to the first meet and greet with the USAP fans and having made some friends it was soon time to retire.

The next day the view from our hotel was stunning. The Victoria Hotel stands on the road approaching the ground from the centre and our 6^th floor balcony (AKA window ledge) gave a great view of the stadium, the bright blue sky and hoards of Tigers fans approaching the ground early. No time for a hangover! Arriving at the ground we quickly bought some tokens, having been reliably and correctly informed that the ground is cash free. Some thought this a bit of a scam but it seemed to speed things up to me. The enterprising French youth’s were talking to all the Tigers fans with an array of raffle tickets, scarves, badges and calendars to sell. A coordinated marketing strategy, with a cheerleader’s calendar for the younger fans and a risqué Perpignan women’s first XV version that did a roaring post-match trade. Plenty of competition for Stuart Baggs ‘the brand’ round here, maybe Alan Sugar should pay a visit.

Our viewing environment for the afternoon was “The Cage”. A small but tidy sun soaked terrace along the side of the pitch, behind an imposing 1970’s football style fence. Rarely have I been to a rugby ground with signs warning ‘Beware of the Dogs’ and specific references to the banning of Flares. At the third time of hearing a Leicester Wag suggest… ‘They could do with that sign in my local’ and ‘The fashion police are a bit tight round here’ I wondered if our sense of humour is perhaps a little predictable!

Despite taking an early lead through a calmly taken Flood penalty, the warning signs appeared early on for a Tigers side being dominated at the breakdown and scrum in a fashion not often seen our side of the Channel. This was a monumental clash for connoisseurs of pure front five forward beef, and the Tigers weren’t going to give up without a fight. When we had troops present we were competitive, but all too often we saw players isolated, Tigers outnumbered two or three to one and out muscled. Soon enough we were pegged back to 3-3. The USAP fans were not impressed by Mr. Lewis, who seemed to spend much of the game counting to 15 in his head. Desperate not to repeat last year’s embarrassing error from the Liberty Stadium where he let Ospreys have 16 men. Unfortunately, this seemed to impinge his decision-making. Eventually, Tigers won a couple of penalties between the half way and 10 metre lines. Agonisingly, beyond Flood and within the dropped Twelvetrees’ range. Matters were made worse by the missed line out chances and our inability to have more than one good ruck in a row. A frustrating but not disastrous start and we were growing in confidence.

Our hosts were infuriated by a Matt Smith challenge but it looked like a dive on the big screen replay. Their outrage increased when the excellent (for this particular moment in time) Alan Lewis, awarded a penalty for not rolling away. Toby slotted home. 3-6. The next ten to fifteen minutes were some of Tigers’ best. But the ball wouldn’t go to hand, the breaks wouldn’t stick, the fine margins went against us. On the half hour (possibly, so the notes say but I’ve not read it elsewhere), Hamilton wasted a great chance by not passing and ended alone and isolated. Tigers’ much vaunted All England half back duo looked flustered and not their usual selves, missing the armchair ride the pack normally provide. Youngs’ dawdled over the ball in a great attacking position, losing possession. Both showed some good touches but it wasn’t quite there.

USAP won a penalty that should have sent it six all. An awful miss from Porical was a let off for Tigers. Who then launched into our best attack of the first half. Slicing through the French defence, surely we would score? Cynical play from Marty stopped the attack and he went to the sin bin as another Flood penalty flew sweetly between the posts. At 9-3 and a man up the confidence grew among the Tigers support. Surely, now would be the time for us to grasp the game and dominate the exchanges. The opposite occurred. Perpignan were inspired for what seemed like an age as the half ran on and on. The home sides’ passion started to pay off and they struck back to 9-6 following a collapsed scrum. Tiger’s still had the man advantage and kicking off with the sun on their backs (it was a lovely warm day) had a great chance to land a fatal blow. The next score would be a crucial moment in deciding the destiny of the game. Perpignan got a lucky bounce and broke at great pace down the flank nearest to us. One of the advantages of this tiny terrace was it’s proximity to the pitch and it was all action right in front of the massed Tigers support as we kept out the rampaging home team with frantic cover defence.

Anyone who watches a lot of matches on TV or from high up in the Crumbie or Cat stand may well get a greater understanding of the tactics of the kicking game, the space available to the backs, and the exact nuances of the binding at scrum time then us terrace dwellers. But you only really get a feel for what top-level professional rugby is about if you get down on the sidelines, watching the pace and power yards away is an awesome sight. We live in a period with an outstanding level of physicality on the pitch. Sometimes reading criticism of players I find it amazingly harsh, look at the effort they put in the previous 5-10 minutes and you’ll often find the key to what looks like a simple mistake. Tiredness and short term fatigue lead to errors. Pressure causes points.

A missed tackle in the Tigers midfield let to a Perpignan break, ending with a kick ahead, and Hamilton harassed over his own goal line. Scrum five. Put in to our hosts. The atmosphere at boiling point. Even the most optimistic Tigers’ fan was struggling to see how we could keep them out. But we did, again and again. With time expired the passionate supporters of both teams were in lively conversation, practically living out their interpretations of what was happening. Scrum after scrum engaged, the drive came on, the pressure grew, the front row’s came up. Who was at fault? Us? Them? Alan Lewis was still counting to 15 (or 14 in the French case), and didn’t seem to want to make a decision. 8 scrums in total and only one penalty. For the benefit of the national press that’s probably a hint as to why it wasn’t a penalty try. He was calling this fight even. Eventually he cracked, both hookers called towards him and dismissed for a ten-minute rest. The French fans were completely bemused. So were we. With Hawkins and his oppo on it was 13 vs 14. Both teams choosing to replace their blindside flanker. Both teams added a back making the key scrum 8 on 8. Lots of space, but only one place this ball was going. A pushover attempt, then a pick and drive. Or so we thought.

I’ve read a lot of criticism of the Tigers’ defence and I suppose the critics are right, but as the 8^th scrum was re-set it didn’t look for all the world as if the ball would come out without at least one forward rumble. When it did there was an exquisite cross field kick from Laharaggue to the lurking Plante on the far wing sent our hosts in for a key score. Should we have done better? We had the extra man, so yes. But the execution was excellent, a quick flat un-telegraphed kick and a smart finish. Sometimes the disruption and confusion of the sin bin is all a top attack needs to break through. Half time: 13-9. Time for a drink.

The queues looked ominously long. We started chatting to a friendly local, and the next thing we knew he’d joined the bar staff and cleared the queue in seconds, translating orders, collecting tokens, pulling pints. Top man. We made it back to our position just before the teams came out for the second half. Castro on. Straight away a scrum. Free kick to Tigers, unfortunately Crane knocked on and the opportunity was gone. Perpignan kept the momentum, a big turnover right in front of our standing position, exceptional technique. Fast passing and some fluid running led to a try for the fullback, Porical, right in the corner. He missed another kick, but it was 18-9 and looking decidedly sticky. The conversations turned to whether we could stop them getting 4 tries.

The famous Tigers’ spirit kicked in. Waldrom and Crane to the fore, battering the opposition. We began to control things in a way we must repeat on Sunday. Playing towards the bright sun (did I mention it was lovely and warm) we finally made the breakthrough, Geordan Murphy striking back. Toby slotted the extras, a great kick. 18-16. Game on! This time the Perpignan fans wore the nervous smiles and the Tigers were roaring. The next chance fell our way, a big kicking opportunity for Flood. 16 mins to go. But, the chance to take the lead went begging. USAP missed plenty of chances too, but Toby will be disappointed with that one. Nevertheless, Tigers had the bit between their teeth and could sniff a famous victory. Then came the hammer blow. A huge defensive turnover from Perpignan, a quick break, an early tackle from Waldrom. Our hosts 21-16 in the lead. With time running out yet another penalty edged Tigers out of bonus point territory and the last few minutes became all about that vital point. Flood got his chance and this time struck it sweetly to make it 24-19. With barely any time on the clock, Perpignan had two last speculative efforts at pushing the lead over 7, but wayward kicking let the Tigers off.

So, Cockerill’s team didn’t return empty handed but brought up the Century of European matches more in an apologetic nurdle to fine leg fashion than a thumping, emphatic Alistair Cook cover drive. On such tight margins do Heineken Cup groups often rest, and in the bars and restaurants after the match, the feeling from Anglo and French alike was that Tigers are in control of the group. Amongst Tigers fans, there was much discussion between the ‘Doom and Gloomers’ and the ‘Glass Half Full Brigade’. Both have some good points. We are clearly in a strong position to have a charge in the New Year and challenge for silverware in the two main competitions. We have some top players and a coach that we should trust for his achievements so far. But, we have lost too many games this year, and losing is a bad habit. This game was too similar to Saints and Sarries away. But, lets see how the next few weeks go, a win next week and strong home performances vs Sale and Saints and the glass will be full of New Year cheer. A loss in any of those three and Cockers may be getting his drawing board out and sharpening the pencil.

The critics are far too backs focused for my forward obsessed mind. I simply don’t believe our backs cost us this game. True, they didn’t win it for us, but our weaknesses are where injury has ravaged some key tactical forwards especially in the lineout. We really miss Parling and Croft. And, where the salary cap and financial constraints don’t allow us the resources we are used to in key areas. Much as I love Chuter and Newby, they have got the least competition for their shirts for at least the last 20 years; you just can’t have enough strong hookers and flankers and we’ve not got enough. They are the weaknesses I see. The discussion in the bars was more about Twelvetrees, Manu and Amorosino. All players I rate highly, but I see their challenge for the first XV as us selecting from strength, we’ve got lots of good centres and fullbacks. I’d love us to be sitting here soon talking about Tom Youngs and Tom Armes as the men that should be playing 2 and 7. 

I expect minimal changes for next week’s match. But I am starting to agree with those that say we need to work on our options a bit more. Only one player came off the bench for us, compared with their Six. Perhaps, we could start some of the options and bring on the experience for the final half hour. But that’s for the coming weeks. Before Sunday, we just need some old fashioned Oval Park head banging sessions and a few portions of the El Gaucho mixed grill wouldn’t go down amiss. We need to win the collisions, dominate the scrums and hit them hard. If Cockerill tinkers at all it should be to bring in a bit more size, looking to counter the man mountain Robins Tchale Watchou. Decisions in the forwards could lie between Slater and Skivington, Castro and Cole. In the backs the option of Twelvetrees or Manu for that go forward will continue to have plenty of fans and the debate will rumble on.

As our French friend said: Maybe next week we ‘av better luck. Let’s hope so!