Some of this natural rebelliousness stems from some
Southerners not feeling French at all, instead considering themselves to be
either Catalan or Basque. It wouldn’t be hyperbole to suggest that the only way
these proud populations can express themselves on a wider stage is through
sport. Barcelona Football Club are obviously the main focus for Catalans and
while Union Sportive des Arlequins Perpignanais or Unió eSportiva
Arlequins de Perpinyà (USAP) are smaller, their fans are
equally as committed and the Stade Aimé Giral is one of the most intimidating
venues I have ever visited.
Where the Catalans have one team to focus their attention
on, the Basques are spoilt for choice. L’Aviron Bayonnais are the first, and
their name points to a past where multisport clubs abounded. Clearly some
Basque rowing chaps decided they quite fancied this rugby lark so they grouped
up and formed a rugby section. The same happened in Paris at Racing Club de
France and certainly elsewhere. Biarritz Olympique are their supercilious neighbours.
Such is the strength of Basque feeling that Biarritz transport their bigger
matches to San-Sebastien, a couple of hours over the Spanish border. Rumour has
it that Bayonne were keen to ‘host’ a Top 14 derby against Biarritz in San
Sebastien at the Stade Anoeta. Instead, Biarritz influence in the LNR (League
National de Rugby) ensured that the first derby of the season had Biarritz at
home. They duly moved the derby over the border and became the first side to
host a derby there. Such rumours are plentiful and widely believed.
Influence is brought about partly by tradition and history,
but also by money. Money is flowing into the sport because people want to watch
it, they want to see it and the product improves because of the money, as the
money flows in because of the world class players. The other week, Toulouse
hosted Racing Métro, during the World Cup. Where most other teams are fielding
inexperienced, unknown young players, this class featured names like Jauzion,
McAlister, Poitrenaud, Nyanga, Bobo, Delasau, Cronje. Every league in the world
taking place during the world cup is suffering but the Top 14 is bearing up
relatively well.
French rugby and money is not a new phenomenon.
The French
national side were, of course, expelled from the 5 Nations at the beginning of
the 20th Century and again came very close in the 1950s for some bending of the strictly amateur code that
pervaded the sport.
Then there is the story of Quillan. Quillan is a town
situated on the road between Carcasonne and Perpignan and has only 4000
inhabitants. But in 1928, they stormed the upper reaches of the French
championship, losing in final of the Bouclier de Brennus to Section Paloise,
otherwise known as Pau. The following year they won the final before coming
second again in 1930. This in itself is not unusual, clubs often chart a
meteoric rise before a fall. But in the case of Quillan, their rise was
atypical.
There was a hat factory in the town, and the owner of this
factory was a wealthy man. He enticed the best rugby players in the land to
play for Quillan as he gave them well-paid jobs in the upper reaches of the
factory.
This was the sort of thing that begun to happen in the rest
of the rugby world in the 1980s and 90s but we can see that ‘shamateurism’ was
alive and well in France fifty years earlier.
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