Quarter-final weekend, as it had always threatened to, saved its best for last. An extraordinary match of fluctuating fortunes ended with French players scattered across the turf, part despair, part exhaustion, denied the chance to prevail at their own World Cup.
Another in the eye for the global north. South Africa it is, brimming with all that World Cup knowhow, who progress to a semi-final against England, the only team left in the tournament from the north. Not even the most ardent fan in white would claim their team represented the best of the north.
This weekend has showcased, as any set of quarter-finals should, the four best teams in the world. Alas, they were playing each other. Ireland-New Zealand on Saturday would have graced any World Cup final – and, boy, this match would have, too.
What a game we witnessed, the brilliant French, so free-running throughout, dashed against Springbok granite. From the start it was played at a pace and intensity beyond any of the others. And it was France who set that pace.
But time and again the Springboks, having picked a side to run, denied their hosts with more familiar virtues. Eben Etzebeth was a monstrous presence in the darkened recesses and around the fringes, terrorising Antoine Dupont, whose scrum cap might just as easily have been worn to block out the glowering Etzebeth’s presence as it was to protect his cheekbone.
But there were rock-hard Springboks throughout, Damian de Allende and Jesse Kriel unnerving the French midfield as much as their heavier brethren in the pack.
France won all the points for artistic merit, if only they had been on offer, but, as with the All Blacks the night before, it was the Springboks who knew the shortest route to victory. By the end, France’s insatiable appetite for the running game had unravelled, but they stuck to it till the clock ran red and they could hang on to the ball no more.
They began the match at just the same pace, but back then it was with confidence and hope. All the more so when they opened the scoring in only the fourth minute, Cyril Baille sent over in the corner after an attacking lineout. It set the tone for an outrageous first half of see-sawing fortunes.
If France set the pace with ball in hand, the Springboks tried them out with ball in air. Weakness identified. Two tries accrued in 10 minutes. Cobus Reinach sent up an up-and-under, and in the chaos of its landing, Kurt-Lee Arendse reacted fastest for a free run to the line.
Next to send the ball skywards was Manie Libbok. This time, Cameron Woki was unable to gather. Off went De Allende. When he was scythed down short, he was quick enough to his feet to accept Reinach’s feed from a ruck and scoot over for South Africa’s second.
The rugby was breathless. France came again and equalised four minutes later. Dupont tapped a penalty to put Peato Mauvaka over before Cheslin Kolbe magnificently charged down Thomas Ramos’s conversion.
Soon Etzebeth was in Dupont’s face again. The ball went loose, and Pieter-Steph du Toit fed Kriel, whose chip ahead was gathered by Kolbe for South Africa’s third.
Doubts may have been forming by then in French minds, seven points behind, despite having the run of the place for most of the first half-hour. But it did not show quite yet. Ten minutes of the half remained, and 10 points were scored, by which France retook the lead before the break. Dupont’s chip to the corner had Kolbe scrambling, and from the lineout Baille burrowed over for his second. Parity again.
That was disrupted only with the last kick of the half. Etzebeth was shown yellow after an accidental clash of heads, and Ramos’s penalty took France into a 22-19 lead.
The pattern of the first half was continued after the resumption, but now the French raids grew blunter with every passing minute, every gasp of a lung. The scoreboard slowed down. Another Ramos penalty was all they had to show for the third quarter, and South Africa turned the screw for the last. When France knocked on just outside the 22 after their latest attack, South Africa seized control.
They broke out from the scrum, unpicking France’s midfield, then chipped deep. When Dupont was caught by De Allende, South Africa chose to tap the penalty. After the characteristic series of charges, the snorting Etzebeth would not be stopped. Handré Pollard’s conversion moved the Springboks into a one-point lead.
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So it remained at the last knockings after a penalty each. There was one final chance for the hosts as the clock turned red, running out from their own half. It was brilliant, it was breathless, but now it was desperate too. Desperation never a World Cup won. The knock-on felt inevitable. And so too now does the Springboks’ advance on another final.
