What treats await this weekend. An England Test match in the Caribbean; a north London derby in the increasingly fractious Premier League; and, joy of joys, at long last the Six Nations is back with three succulent games.
There’s always an extra tang when rugby’s European showcase is also the selection process for a summer Lions’ tour. Long gone are the days when England felt they had a God-given right to the pick of places on any flight to the southern hemisphere — now they might not have a single man in the starting XV against South Africa. All the more reason why the highlight of the coming week will be England taking on Italy.
Anyone who cares for rugby badly needs the Azzurri to do well. I like the way they play, and who cannot admire their stoic attitude to their (current) place in world rugby? Last year, in Rome’s intimate Stadio Flamini, they ran England sweatily close; and those who know the secrets of that dark world say the Italian scrum could be the best in Europe. Their coach, Nick Mallett, is a formidable figure who guided his native South Africa to the longest ever sequence of victories in Test rugby at the beginning of this decade.
I expect Sergio Parisse fully to relish his Twickenham workout. The Italian captain is probably the best forward anywhere in Europe — a ferocious tackler and a superb handler. With Mauro Bergamasco, possibly at scrum-half, and Andrea Marcato at No. 10, this could be a nerve-shredder for English fans. Of course, Italy need 15 great players, not a handful, and that takes time. But don’t forget it took more than 40 years for France to win a title.
What does seem pretty certain is that Martin Johnson’s England are looking beleaguered. An out-of-form Toby Flood has been preferred to Danny Cipriani at stand-off (shame on you, selectors), and there was little sign in the run of heavy autumn defeats that England had the wit or panache to open up their game. I’m told that Rob Andrew and even the saintly Johnno were rather snooty at a recent lunch, apparently viewing England’s place at the top of the rugby world as just part of the natural order. Ho-hum, we’ll see. The great club sides who have qualified for the final round of the wonderful Heineken Cup all play their rugby in an open, graceful way: look at Bath, where a high-risk, high-tempo, very un-English style of play is being masterminded by some brilliant South Africans, or the Cardiff Blues or Toulouse.
And Sunday’s match — when Wales, the pre-tournament darlings, travel to Edinburgh — could spring a surprise. Watch out for Shane Williams, of course, Lee Byrne, the commentators’ unanimous pick for Lions fullback, and the mighty Andy Powell, one beast of a flanker. Mark you, Scotland have the best No. 9 in Europe, the incomparable Mike Blair, and in Euan Murray an awesome tight-head.
France could be a real challenge to the Welsh. Coach Marc Lievremont is sounding increasingly bonkers, but they do have Toulouse’s Clément Poitrenaud at No. 10 — all Gallic brilliance and occasional moments of madness. And in their admirable hooker, Dimitri Szarzewski, they must have the best-looking man ever to scrum down.
The epic rivalry between Rafael Nadal and Roger Federer is assuming near-mythic proportions. And anyone who doubts that great sport can define the very best things in life itself should look again at Nadal comforting a tearful Federer at the end of the Australian Open. It was a moment that could teach all of us a lesson in grace and generosity.
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