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I have a confession to make – despite my many (generally
useless) gifts, foretelling the future is not one of them. I happen to think my score predictions are
generally pretty decent – during the Six Nations, I got 2 of England’s 5 games
dead right – and if I’m wrong, I’m generally reasonably close. As in, within a score or so. 10 points at worst. Not 45.
That’s what I like to call a ‘Guscott call’.
However, I sank to new depths on Saturday as Saracens scaled
unimaginable heights against the most illustrious of European opponents,
Clermont Auvergne. The French giants
have never lifted the Heineken Cup and yet have been hailed by many as, unofficially,
the best team in Europe over 3 years.
With local and foreign talent scattered across the pitch, a brutally
physical pack combined with an electrifying backline, it is easy to see how
many had them as narrow favourites in the build up to the quarter final at
Twickenham. I myself had them down as
victors by 5 points, because I could not shake the memory of Saracens being bullied
against Toulouse from my mind – if they struggled against a far-from-vintage
Toulouse side, how would they fare against a Clermont side approaching their
prime?
We got that answer pretty early on as Clermont started the
game in glorious West London sunshine.
After a tentative opening which was characterised by some marvellous
kicking from Owen Farrell and Brock James, Saracens exploded into life. Attacking the short side on the left, Alex
Goode and Schalk Brits timed their passes to perfection to put Brad Barritt in
through a gap, and the bullocking centre found left wing Chris Ashton marauding
on his inside shoulder, allowing the England winger to finish well by picking
an in-and-out line. This was classic
Ashton and a classic poachers try, giving Saracens had a 7-0 lead, following
Alex Goode’s magnificent nudge (with Farrell handing over kicking-duties whilst
he was taking precautions with his recently-recovered foot) after just 8 minutes. Well now, I thought, a Sarries headstart
should at least make it interesting.
Clermont responded quickly, running through the phases
without making many yards as the Saracens line-speed, led by Brits and Jacques
Burger, put them under pressure.
Nevertheless, Neil de Kock gave away an offside penalty and Morgan Parra
added 3 points. The French side didn’t
seem worried; they would bide their time, and surely their backline flair would
tell eventually.
But not immediately.
Clermont made a complete hash of clearing their lines from the restart
as James, under pressure, shovelled the ball to fullback Lee Byrne, whose kick
was superbly charged down by the onrushing Mako Vunipola, now officially the
world’s largest sprinter. James and
Marcello Bosch both competed for the loose ball as it cannoned off the
loosehead’s hands, with the fly half appearing the deliberately knock the ball
out of play at the second attempt. Referee
Nigel Owens certainly thought this was the case, rightly showing James a yellow
card but also, surprisingly awarding a penalty try. I thought that this was one of the few
decisions Owens, the best referee in the world, got wrong; for me, there was no
way of telling that a try would probably have been scored if James hadn’t have
knocked it into touch. But it was
cynical, and you could argue that Sarries deserved their 14 – 3 lead.
No matter – with Owens reffing, one thing you are guaranteed
is an open game, which is right up Clermont’s street, even with just 14
men. In fact, Clermont began to play
their best rugby during the 10 minutes James was off. Short pick and goes were winding the sinbin clock
down, although the strong fringe defence was not giving any change, but
whenever they attempted to go wide they were hounded and smashed to pieces by
an incredibly aggressive defensive line.
The Clermont players were starting to look out for Burger, who had
already weighed in with some monumental hits, but they did find some joy down
the left as Byrne and then Jamie Cudmore, of all people, galloped to within 5
metres of the Saracens line. From there,
the Clermont pack hammered at the Saracens line, again met by outstanding
defence, before swinging the ball wide to Benson Stanley, who coasted in for a
try – only to be denied because of an unnecessary decoy block by Damien
Chouly. Sarries had escaped – but was
the door now open, with James returning to the fray?
It certainly seemed to be creaking open. A penalty conceded by Burger after more
strong work by the men in white’s pack brought it back to an 8 point game. But 5 minutes later, the door was slammed
shut again. A magnificent turnover by
Brits in the midfield gave Mako Vunipola the chance to rumble on, and from
there Chris Ashton made a sharp dart down the right before throwing an inside
pass. De Kock, the intended recipient,
was held back and couldn’t take the ball which cannoned off the onrushing
Farrell’s leg and over the tryline for the England fly half to dive on. Everyone had stopped for the knock on, but
replays showed the Saracens man had taken his hands away at the crucial moment
and allowed the ball to hit his knee, meaning the try stood. Another superb conversion, and Sarries held a
21 -6 lead.
Still, any moment now, Clermont would explode into top gear
and set the Twickenham pitch alight.
Surely. But instead, they began
to look a bit worried. They started trying
to play from deep but they were met, with each step, by a wall of black and
red, usually fronted by the Picasso-painting-esque face of Burger, and their
physical dominance was underlined when Ashton – renowned for being as tough as
wet paper in the tackle – hammered the giant Napolini Nalaga into touch. The Londoners dominated the remainder of the
half, earned another Goode penalty, and went into the break at 24 – 6 to the
good.
There was a stunned silence at Twickenham – even the
Saracens fans were shocked at what they had seen. Europe’s best club side, with all their
deadly runners, bullied into submission in every contact. We were waiting for the French outfit to
finally hit their stride, but even a fully-firing Clermont side would struggle
against this blood-thirsty defence. And
this theme continued in the second half, with the wolf pack tearing into the
opposition with unrestrained ferocity – there was fear in the eyes of every Clermont
player, and this wasn’t fear of losing even though they were 18 points
down. This was a fear of getting hurt.
Clermont were trying to desperately to get some form of
upper hand in the game – through offloads or kicking – but they were being
matched and bettered in almost every department. In fact, it was Saracens who looked the more
dangerous by far, as Billy Vunipola thundered 30 metres with a huge break in
the midfield and helped get his side to within 10 metres of the line before De
Kock knocked on. It was only a brief
respite though, as Bosch stepped up to land a trademark monster penalty from
halfway to had another 3 points of onto the Sarries tally.
The French side now looked defeated and miserable in the
glorious Twickenham sunshine and, after an hour, they finally imploded, fed up
of being dismantled 5 metres behind the gainline in every possession, fed up of
the sight of Burger, Brits, Vunipola and Barritt running up to re-arrange their
rib-cages. Another smart tackle, this
time by Farrell, caused Ti’i Paulo to spill the ball and allowed Ashton to show
his predatory instincts and footballing skills to grubber the loose ball ahead
and touchdown for his 2nd score.
34 – 6, game over – and everyone, myself included, finally realised we
weren’t going to see the expected miraculous comeback from Clermont, simply
because Saracens wouldn’t allow it.
Burger was substituted, having made a ludicrous 27 tackles,
but Ashton wasn’t done yet. The England
winger surged through a gap in the midfield before throwing a gorgeous pass out
to substitute Tim Streather, who fed fellow replacement Chris Wyles via Barritt
for the American to touch down for a magnificent try. It summed up a superb performance by Ashton,
not only had he shown commitment and physicality in defence, he had shown
conviction and confidence in his decisions – something that had been lacking of
late. He made 81 metres in just 10
carries, with 4 clean breaks and 2 tries, whilst his illustrious opposite
number Sitiveni Sivatu (who I picked as his key opponent), managed just 12
metres from 19 carries.
There was still time for Streather to sneak over on the
right after slick hands from Farrell and Goode to add the final nail into the
Clermont coffin to leave a final score of 46 – 6. Against Clermont. The highest ever semi-final points total. The highest ever semi-final winning
margin. An unbelievable score, a
remarkable score. A statement.
It’s not exaggerating to put this display up there with
the best ever performances by an English club in Europe, along with the likes of
Harlequins away against Toulouse 2 years ago and Leicester away to Munster in
2007. People may not have had predicted
anything like this before, but you can pretty safely bet that their opponents,
Toulon, won’t be writing them off in Cardiff in 4 weeks’ time.
Toulon 24 – 16 Munster: Toulon had just too much power for
Munster in Marseille, running out comfortable winners in the end. The boot of Johnny Wilkinson, with 6
penalties and a drop goal, plus a long range effort from Delon Armitage, proved
enough for the Galacticos of Europe, even though Munster scored the only try of
the game through Simon Zebo.
You can find my team of the weekend up on The Rugby Blog,
too.
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