That went on a while, didn’t it? “Fifty days since the opening game,” as Jacqui Hurley reminded us, although it felt a little more like this Rugby World Cup started in or around 1987.
We had, of course, high hopes when it all kicked off, but, said Joe Molloy, “We’re down to the final two, the aristocrats of world rugby … we should have known better”. We probably should have too, but sure look it, there’s no harm in dreaming big.
While the rugby connoisseurs might choose, say, the France v South Africa and Ireland v New Zealand quarter-finals as the highlights of the tournament, or maybe the mighty Portugal’s triumph over Fiji, for the rest of us it would have been, most definitely, Virgin Media’s polls. There was no point to them at all, but they helped gauge the mood of the couch-bound nation.
The last one. “Who do you want to win the World Cup? (a) New Zealand, (b) South Africa, (c) don’t care.” The correct answer, needless to say, was (c). It should have received 110 per cent of the vote, but it had to settle for 13, the viewers very almost evenly split between NZ and SA.
Money a whole different ball game as NFL and GAA eye Croke Park game
Flash of inspiration from Amad casts Amorim’s dropping of Rashford and Garnacho as a masterstroke
Unbreakable, a cautionary tale about the heavy toll top-level rugby can take
The top 25 women’s sporting moments of the year: top spot revealed with Katie Taylor, Rhasidat Adeleke and Kellie Harrington featuring
Before Joe took us off to the Stade de France, there was just time for yet another mournful montage to heap further misery upon us, it being filled with images of Irish players with tear-stained cheeks. “You just lost 23 viewers,” said Rob Kearney.
Twenty-four. Over to RTÉ. Sam Cane’s yellow converted into red. “That could decide the World Cup,” said Donal Lenihan while Cane sat on the naughty step looking like he’d seen a ghost.
Thereafter. Well, as Jamie Heaslip conceded at half-time, “it hasn’t been pretty, but it’s been a real gladiatorial battle”, which was much as we expected, the chances of this being a re-run of, say, Portugal v Fiji as remote as Marcus Rashford finishing top scorer in the Premier League this season.
Full-time. South Africa abú. “We’re quite happy with the win,” man of the match Pieter-Steph du Toit told his interviewer, which was quite an understated response to the victory. Matt Williams was chuffed for them, though. Jesting! Shane Horgan and Rob busied themselves slapping him down when he suggested Wayne Barnes’s (allegedly) erroneous award of a South African penalty in the first half had left the All Blacks entitled to feel humongously aggrieved. “That’s unfair … that’s a disservice to South Africa,” said Shane, while Matt planted his heels firmly in the studio floor.
But look it, a win’s a win. “Not the most exciting brand of rugby,” said Joe. “No,” said Rob, “but who cares?” Probably not Webb Ellis, he’s going to spend another four years in Cape Town and thereabouts. And there are worse places to be.
And there are worse places to be for Manchester City than Old Trafford. Certainly on Sunday when they hardly broke sweat en route to a 3-0 trouncing of the United lads.
Sky commentator Peter Drury did perspire a bit though because he’s obliged to apologise to the viewers whenever a swear word is audible in a broadcast, so a few thousand City fans singing “mind the gap, mind the gap, Man United … it’s getting bigger every f***ing day” on a loop caused him no end of discomfort.
And then they broke in to “Glazers staying 10 more years, Man City are on the beers, Old Trafford is falling down, ten Hag is a f***ing clown”. Drury was left as frazzled as United’s rearguard.
The team news hadn’t augured well for United, 76-year-old Johnny Evans chosen at centre half, centre half Lindelof picked at left back, and number 10 Bruno Fernandes stationed on the right wing. And £230 million worth of, eh, talent left on the bench because you don’t always get what you pay for.
“Why are Evans and Lindelof starting,” asked Patrick Davison. “Tactic,” said Erik ten Hag.
The tactic didn’t work. By full-time Roy Keane wasn’t even able to whip up some anger, he’s seen it all for so long now, it’s Groundhog Day. Gary Neville, when he left the gantry to join the lads in the studio, was no less deflated, marginally more slumped in his chair than Roy was in his. He continues, of course, to blame the Glazers for all United’s woes, Roy not caring enough anymore to point out it wasn’t the bloody Glazers who thought Antony was worth £82 million.
It’ll be a long season for the United faithful. Come the end of it, it’ll feel like it started in 1987. City are well and truly Manchester’s aristocrats now.