The Ankle Tap

Rugby Blog for Egg-Shaped Folk

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Who’s On The Plane – March Edition

What a Six Nations. Unbelievable, incredible, absorbing, awesome. The list of words to describe that the final day of the 2015 Six Nations could go on forever. We can safely say that we have never witnessed a day of frenetic, frantic and fearless rugby quite like it. Who foresaw Wales putting 60 plus points on Italy in Rome to seize the upper hand in the points race and seemingly dash Irish and English hearts? Or for Ireland to then come out and inflict their heaviest ever defeat upon Scotland in Murraryfield , wrestling the title back within touching distance and crushing the hopes of the Welsh in the process? Even if you saw one of those results coming, not a single person on the face of this planet, or any other, could have predicted the fireworks that would follow in Twickenham. England came out to play, they had no choice, but the French went toe to toe with them in one of the greatest games of rugby we have witnessed in a long time. Sitting in the West Stand in Murrayfield with 10,000 others, chanting “Les Marseillais” and “Allez les bleus”, imploring France to keep England away from that magical 26 point winning margin put each and every one of us through a range of emotions unlike any we have ever experienced. Yes, the French shipped 55 points, but they were ominously reminiscent of the France of old. They threw caution to the wind and they ceased trying to bowl the opposition over through sheer brute force. Instead, they pinned their ears back and ran anything and everything they got their hands on. If they keep on that path, instead of reverting to type, then they will be a serious threat to the Irish aspirations of topping Pool D.

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