Rugby

French rugby has always been well stocked with boeuf but now it has added lashings of exceptionally tangy moutarde and the whole dish is mighty tasty — as evidenced by their brilliant first try against Ireland at the weekend. Covid scares permitting, the team are the stars of this Six Nations — and annoyingly good-looking too. The next World Cup is in France and will be the most glamorous World Cup ever. It might also be an opportunity to get some of your francs on the host nation, at appetising odds of around 6-1. The French defence, discipline and game management is pretty flawless: take a bow Shaun Edwards, who

Q. I have been offered a cottage, at minimal rent, on the estate of a friend of a friend who had got wind of my current unsatisfactory domestic arrangements. I am supposed to move in shortly but now I have looked more closely at the picturesque dwelling I find it is blighted by the typically low ceilings which characterise estate workers’ cottages. It is something that I — and our mutual friend — should have thought of. I am 6ft 6in and banging my head on beams is likely to be a major problem. How can I tactfully withdraw without making a fool of myself over the intemperance of my

Remember those lazy, hazy, crazy days of last year’s rugby World Cup, when as perfect a performance by England as we are ever likely to see dethroned the All Blacks? England went through to the final 19-7 with a brilliant, nimble, free-running performance, backs and forwards in perfect harmony, and a dazzling display of skilful tactical kicking. Seems a long time ago, doesn’t it? Friends told me after the final, where England were made to look very ordinary, that the style of South Africa’s victory (despite Cheslin Kolbe’s exquisite winning try) could be the death of rugby: attritional forward play and relentless box kicking, gaining ground and forcing penalties. All

So the Good Lord really wants to fill out his team: how else to interpret the passing in recent months of three of the finest footballers of the past century — Jack Charlton, Nobby Stiles and Ray Clemence. All received thoroughly deserved eulogies. All had reached the highest realms of their sport and, though none made it to a very great age, they did at least achieve the biblical milestone of three score years and ten. All deaths have a depth to their sadness, felt most deeply by immediate family, but not all have an added melancholy that engages us in a quite different way. Graham Cowdrey’s passing in seemingly

José Mourinho, it was surprising to read, recently said how relieved he was that the Amazon Prime cameras were out of his hair and he could get back to working in private, the way he likes it. Given that the Spurs documentary programmes, part of the All or Nothing sports series, are long promotional videos for José, made with his consent and, it would appear, absolute collaboration, this was a risible remark. And it turns out erroneous. Far from ending the series, one cameraman continues to work — and was spotted last week at an upmarket bar in Chingford, where Harry Kane and Son Heung-min were relaxing after a training

Crowds, Covid and sport: could it get any crazier? I don’t mind about golf: no idiots yelling ‘Get in the hole’ at every opportunity. But Formula 1 without a few thousand petrol heads going berserk is even more tiresome than usual: a minor wheelspin at the start, then Lewis wins. One-day cricket in an empty ground will feel a bit odd. Not even a lone voice abusing Steve Smith in the upcoming games against the Aussies. Sport as purely a TV event is pretty limited. A friend had missed the PM’s volte-face on letting small crowds into the Bob Willis games, so was turned away when he tried to buy

Sadly it looks as though the 2020 Six Nations may have to go down with an asterisk and an explanation that might baffle future scholars — ‘Aborted due to the coronavirus’. Still, after the Wales game we can look back with affection on Owen Farrell at his horribly gobby worst, endlessly getting at Kiwi referee Ben O’Keeffe while dishing out a series of nasty niggly fouls: why does he do it? Then there was Eddie Jones in inimitable fashion blasting away at the laws and of course the ref. You lost a couple of men to foul play, Eddie, I’d keep quiet while the going’s good. I had my ref