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View from the south stand: Sale 19 Montpellier 25


By Cap'n Major Bloodnok
April 11 2016

The winning run was always going end at some point, and there was little hope that it would survive a meeting with team composed entirely of angry Bruce Banners.

I had mixed emotions about this game: I don’t think we should ever not bother—always try to win—but a win here would mean a brutal 9 days ahead, so defeat, whilst unwelcome, takes some of the pressure off of a league campaign that still has life to it. Also, this was a game that matched Sale’s minuscule squad against a huge team of totally-French-and-not-at-all-South-African bruisers. This would be a pretty good test of where Sale are as a team in how they coped with the green-skinned, purple-trousered monsters pitted against them.

Two coaches from The Brook boded well for a good crowd (I assumed that all those people who complained about the move from Friday to Saturday would be rushing to attend and filling out the ground). The official figure of 4,557 seems ridiculously low: from my position the South Stand felt fuller than usual; the North Stand was actually occupied by a few hardy souls, and the side stands seemed well occupied, if a bit thin on the flanks.


I have a theory.

Ahem. This is my theory, what it is. Ahem. My theory, by Denis Bloodnok; SFI, coward and bar. Ahem. Sale play well in the first half, and when they’re attacking the north end; so they should always attack the south end in the first half. That way, they play well for the whole match, rather than use up both advantages in the first forty minutes.

Case in point: Sale played toward the north stand first half – ahead (just) at half time and looking, to my mind, marginally the better (or, at least, more attack-minded) team. Pinged off the park second half, unable to get any momentum and outplayed by a team that read the ref better.


Sale kicked off and we were treated to about 10 minutes of general back-and-forth in midfield, with Les Boques trying to use their muscle against Sale trying to use a bit more guile and movement.

With just under ten minutes gone, Danny put up a high ball for Brady to chase. Tom and Les Boques' defender Meuggue collided in mid-air. The ref deemed that both players were legitimately going for the ball so, although Meuggue had to leave the pitch for a HIA, the resulting decision was a scrum to Sale for the knock-on.

First points came about 4 minutes later, when Cips converted a penalty following a Boque infringement at a ruck on their 10-metre line. Meuggue returned to the pitch at the same time, and captain-for-the-day Maggie went off to be replaced by Boris.

Two minutes later, though, and size counted as Les Boques’ loque Paul Guillaumse flopped down to ground the ball to the left of the posts. Paillague converted to make the score 3-7.

Two minutes later, it was 3-10 following a ruck infringement.

Half-way through the half and some good phase play in Les Boques’ 22 left Sale with a scrum out right. A bullish carry from TeeeeeJaaaayyyy, a couple of deft passes from Cips and Haley and the ball was in Tom Brady’s hands and then on the grass wide out left. Cips missed the conversion: 8-10

Sale’s normally machine-like lineout was inexplicably going wrong on too many occasions—Privat knicked a 5-metre throw from Beard’s grasp, and another line out a couple of minutes later also ended up in Boque hands. But, a bit of neat play including a good break from Haley[1] (one of many this half) ended with a penalty that Cips put over to make the score 11-10.

At that’s how it stood at half time: a narrow lead to the team that I felt was narrowly the better—at least as far as creativity in the backs was concerned. The pack was holding its own at scrum time and in the rucks. I thought that we were good for the half time lead, and was looking forward to the second half.


I should have realised that spilling some of my half time pint was a bad omen. The second half bore little relation to the first as Les Boques turned the screw and the ref started pinging Sale off the park. I haven’t watched the full replay to confirm that he was correct to do so, but I must say that that sort of disparity in penalty counts (I think it was 9-1 or something) seems odd for a team that was doing well in the previous forty minutes.

Anyway, the score went to 11-13 and then 11-16, before a bit of relief came with a Sale penalty for 14-16.

That penalty coincided with a yellow card for Privat following a great break from Cameron Neild and Boris.

And then, a couple of minutes later, Sale were 5 points behind again, 14-19. Guys, a yellow card is supposed to be worth 7 points, haven’t you read the script?

At about the 66-minute mark, with a few minutes of Privat’s binning to go, Briggsy made one of those cameo appearances that seem to be becoming a trade mark of his. Coming on for TT at a Boque line-out, within a minute he was going off again for a 10-minute rest.

14-22.

14-25. Ten minutes to go.

Four minutes to go.

Les Boques pressing in the Sale 22. Turnover. Ioane has it. Ball moves left, NevNevNev takes it forward. Stringer to Cipriani, Cipriani offloads from the tackle to Sam James wide out on the left. James kicks on, gathers the ball and dives over the line. 19-25. Delirium in the stands. Hope. Conversion missed. Not much time. Converted try to win.

It was not to be. As time ran out, Les Boques had control of the ball and did not have the good grace to cough it up with 5 seconds to go as Sale would have done.


So the European journey ended and the unbeaten run ended, but I’m not downhearted about it.

That a £4million team could hold a £19million team to a 6-point margin spoke volumes for the team spirit and dogged tenaciousness of Sale. We may be losing the likes of TT, Cips and Vadeeeeeeeem next season, but there’s some good looking talent arriving. The nucleus of the team remains and I have high hopes that we can do well for the remainder of this season and then really crack on next.

 


[1] He’s better than an international full-back…

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