QI Rugby de Lavanini, Philippe Groussard Ovale Masqué strips this legendary Biarritz-Bayonne

In rugby, we are always a little wary of strangers. There are those who are more or less tolerated, who always come with their share of ready-made adjectives: the annoying Irishmen, the brutal South Africans, the whimsical Fijians, the brave Italians. And then there are obviously the roast beef, the English, those with whom we can proudly assume a socially acceptable racism. But wouldn't the worst stranger, in the end, be the one who looks the most like us, the one who is on the other side of the garden fence?

We've all had a neighbor we hated. Sometimes for valid reasons: he mowers on Sunday mornings, he listens to the music too loudly, his children are ugly and stupid. Sometimes, the causes of this resentment are less avowed: his garden is bigger, his car more beautiful. Often, we don't even really know why we don't like it. He's just there and it pisses us off.

I will not go back over the origins of the ancestral rivalry between the Biarrots and the Bayonnais. Everything has already been said about this conflict which fascinates all of Euskadi, but also all rugby fans. Because even people whose knowledge of the region is limited to the film Mission pays basque must choose a side. The basic rugby-hipster will prefer to support Rowing, for its more popular image and because the Pena Baiona is a bit like the French haka (in the sense that it was fun at the beginning, and now it's mostly marketing). The old man who wears Eden Park polo shirts and spends weekends in thalasso will obviously choose the soundtrack. Either way, both will break your balls.

Personally, like a person who watches a fight in the street and bravely decides to go on his way whistling, I am totally neutral. However, this derby also fascinates me. It's a bit like the release of a new movie with Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson: I'm present in theaters from day one, knowing very well that it's going to suck. Better: the more it sucks, the more I like it. So as much to tell you that on Saturday, I got off on a rare occasion: the casting and the special effects were worthy of the worst of the nanars, as expected. On the other hand, at the level of the scenario, it was Hitchcock, and that, nobody had seen it coming.

Throwback to an already legendary match!

The film of the match

Everyone knows that the recipe for a failed derby is respect. Respect between players, respect between supporters, respect for the referee... it's like putting anchovies in a dish, disaster is guaranteed if this ingredient is present. First good news: the leaders of Biarritz Olympique did not respect any health rules. Obviously, there are 15,000 people in Aguilera, including about 4 who wear a mask. We could be scandalized but, if you think about it, this match has only two possible outcomes: a humiliating defeat against a rival or qualification for a season of jerking off in the Top 14. So hey, why think about the aftermath and waste celebration ? We'll settle the PV when we've sobered up.

Second good news: obviously, today, we're not going to get bored. From the first minutes of the meeting, we discover two teams who are engaged in the battle fully. It's rhythmic, it hits hard and it even takes some risks. During the first 20 minutes, the two teams refused to attempt well-placed penalties: it was like watching a tennis match between two suicidal people who had replaced the yellow ball with a pinned grenade.

But who says a pleasant game to watch does not necessarily mean an easy game to describe. Somehow, this encounter reminded me a bit of the one between New Zealand and France in the 2011 World Cup final: almost nothing happened, and yet it was incredibly epic. All things considered eh. Because let's be honest, Jean Monribot, Tornike Jalagonia and Peyo Muscarditz don't really play in the same sport as Richie McCaw, Thierry Dusautoir and Ma'a Nonu. The only player of this 2011 final who would have his place on the lawn in Aguilera, it is perhaps Piri Weepu. But the Piri Weepu from Oyonnax, the one who looked like an obese rose seller.

It will be understood, in terms of commitment there is nothing to say. Technically, it's more winded. The weight of the challenge and the heat will add a little perspiration to the ball, and major movements will be rare. Overall, the Biarrots give the impression of being the most enterprising, of carrying the ball more. Yet it is the Bayonnais who get the rare test opportunities. Ravouvou escapes on the wing before being caught by Stark, who knew how to keep his head on his shoulders. The same Ravouvou then finds himself at the conclusion of what is believed to be the first try of the game, but after reviewing the video, it is refused for a small forward between Hingano and Luc.

In the end, it was the Biarrots who opened the scoring. After a first failed attempt, Gilles Bosch finds the target. 3-0, and that will be the score at halftime. 3 points only, but already 7 injured. This match with the scent of yesteryear delights us. It only takes a little fight for everything to be perfect, but unfortunately it will never happen: you have to get used to it, we have definitely entered the era where fights only take place between club presidents. and journalists.

The second period begins and offers us much the same spectacle as the first. The match is always tense, fierce. We feel that it would be enough for a good player to make a good choice for the situation to be unblocked. But the 30 players in the match seem to be possessed by some form of grace, which automatically grants them the Rugby IQ of Tomas Lavanini. And from the sadly banal derby which could have been won by 3 or 5 points difference, we move on to the sublime, to the anthology match which does not want to find its winner.

The soundtrack gets a touch in the 22m from the Bayonnais, but they manage to stop the advance of the maul and recover the ball. After a big melee push, the Ciel et Blancs tried their first penalty, and Lafage equalized, 3-3.

A few minutes later, a new opportunity for the topquartozians with a long streak in the 22s. We multiply the small piles, we advance centimeter by centimeter, we cause the opponent to foul and, in the end, we do nothing . Not a wide attack, not an attempt to kick or drop on the advantage. Worse, we do not even attempt the penalty when the referee returns to the advantage. And, in the end, the BO obviously recovers the ball. I'm starting to understand: in fact, nobody wants to win this match, everyone wants to go to Pro D2 to be able to play two derbies a year next year.

The clock is ticking, we are already at the 75^th minute when the Red and Whites obtain a well-placed penalty. James Hart, this man who has the face of a starving villager in a film set in the Middle Ages, tempts her. It missed.

The turn of the ham eaters to get a match point, after a new penalty. The carried ball is stopped 5 meters from the line. Lafage is positioned right in the axis, for a drop that he can pass in an armchair – an old rusty armchair with nails, because we are playing a derby and survival in Top 14, but an armchair all the same. The ball will never reach his hands.

In the end, what had to happen happened: Steffon Armitage, human incarnation of Dora the Explorer's "Swiper Stop Swiping", manages to scratch the ball (ah, that dirty habit of putting his hands everywhere). Penalty. Somewhere, in a Bayonne kitchen, a starred chef is preparing a tasty recipe to allow Bayonne players to devour their own testicles. But, before going to the table, there is first the extension.

Knowing that all the players in this meeting had already completely lost their lucidity at the end of the 12^th minute, I let you imagine what these 20 additional minutes can look like. At this point, the star of the match logically becomes referee Alexandre Ruiz, the only man on the lawn fit enough to still have all his head. On each action, there are 22 fouls on each side, and it is up to him to decide which is more deserving of a whistle.

On a biarrot maul, it is a Sky and White player who is sanctioned. New penalty for Hart, who this time finds the target. 6-3 for Biarritz. A few seconds later, it was Vincent Pelo who made a stupid and flagrant foul. The opportunity to remember that this player obtained two selections with the XV of France, while his very existence is an insult to the notion of healthy living. Ah, the PSA years! New penalty for Hart, who misses the opportunity to make the break.

The first 10-minute period ends. After an interruption as quick as a passage of Castres Olympique in the European Cup, the game resumed. At the kickoff, Aymeric Luc jumps higher than everyone and comes close to ruining this match by doing something unacceptable, scoring a try. Fortunately, he is thrown into touch.

The tragicomic spectacle continues when James Hart is countered on a clearance. But by one of his own teammates. This allows the Bayonnais to recover a ball in the 22m, just in front of the posts. Dyer attempts to scratch the ball but does so illicitly. Gaëtan Germain (who was playing this match, it took 93 minutes for us to realize it) takes the posts and equalizes, 6-6. No more points will be scored and, as we were beginning to suspect a little, everything will be decided during a crucial penalty shoot-out.

And then you're telling me, what's more stupid than shots on goal in rugby? Apart from rugby itself, difficult to answer. In football, there is real tension, a psychological duel that takes place between shooter and goalkeeper at each attempt. In rugby, we know that no one is bad enough to miss a penalty in front of 22 meters from the posts. Apart from the guys in the front 5 of course, who have to relive their childhood traumas, when they hid behind their kits so as not to be questioned on the board.

The truth is that the penalty shootout in rugby should be reformed, but never think about it because it only happens once every 15 years. One could for example appoint a guard who would be placed between the posts, balanced on stilts. Allow a very fast winger to charge the striker. Force a player to type while listening to a technical analysis by Sébastien Chabal broadcast on the big screen. I don't know, but there's bound to be something we could find to spice it up to make it more thrilling than a stupid Jean-Marc Doussain Challenge.

Well, as Faf Larage would say, you have to go there. The first scorers start. Germain, Hart, Ordas, Barry, Rouet, Couilloud, Costossèque, Muscarditz and Saili all succeed in their shots without shaking. We therefore enter the “sudden death” zone where dummies will stumble. We are inevitably approaching the moment when a paunchy pillar will send a sausage directly into the Adour. But then a capeless hero steps forward. A talented young Bayonne winger, whose name I won't mention here because we're going to piss him off enough for the next 40 years, decides to miss his attempt and take on the role of martyr to relieve his forwards. Behind, Biarritz captain Steffon Armitage does not let the opportunity pass and sends the leather between the poles. Biarritz goes up in Top 14, Bayonne goes down in Pro D2.

But in the end, all of this is almost anecdotal. Because as people who want to look intelligent and philosophical say so well, the important thing is not the destination, it's the journey. So thank you to Biarrots and Bayonnais for this journey through time. For more than 100 minutes, we visited the Rugby Middle Ages as if we were there. Thank you also to Canal + journalist Philippe Groussard, who gave his heart, his soul and his voice to bring this match to life. Thanks to him, we were able to feel shivers in front of a forward contact or an unscrewed candle and that is priceless.

After all these emotions, we are going to return to a more mundane daily life. The BO leaders will give us one silly polemic a week (you'll note that the first one only took an hour to arrive) and the club will try hard to hold on next year. The Bayonnais will try to rebuild for the 112^th time. Jean Monribot will continue to play when he is 56 years old. Maybe we'll even talk about the merger again, that it will happen, then finally no. Like everyday life. Something to pass the time before the next derby.

Hurrah!

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