In the end, there was order amidst the disorder. As Thomas Ramos draped ball over tee and strode back ready to strike, there was a strange hum around the Stade de France, a wish to be silent to mark the moment but the energy of the evening producing an involuntarily babble. It felt entirely fitting a finale, this greatest of Six Nations championships settled with the last kick. Could Ramos keep his head? Across five disorienting, delightful weekends, he was about the only one who did.
Most might have foreseen a final tableau of French hands hoisting the trophy but little of that which came prior to the last image could have been forecast. As a five-act stage play, each subsection stood strongly on its own merits but comprised a greater glory in its totality – it would be fair to argue that this was the finest edition yet, although that is a conversation that seems to surface every year. France’s defence coach Shaun Edwards perhaps summed it up most precisely after tasting a seventh tournament success: “Rugby at the moment, particularly the Six Nations, is just phenomenal.”
