By Mark H
May 17 2004

Final score Wasps 57...and I can stop right there, because that says everything you need to know. The hard facts - eight tries to two, a landslide, the immovable force meeting the penetrable object. Wasps were, put simply, on a totally different plane to Saints. The Wasps plane was flying overhead, waiting for the twin assault on Twickenham.

The Saints plane, however, was heading for a beach somewhere, departure time approximately half an hour into the game.

It was a sad way to say farewell to some old favourites, and much credit must go to Daws (who could easily have decided to stay away and hide), Mark Connors, AB (for coming and meeting the supporters), JP (for being a legend), and Bealer (and who didn’t have a lump in their throat as we cheered his name for the last time - I know I did), all of whom came and said thanks for the phenomenal support given today. It was a pity that more of their colleagues did not come to acknowledge the large group on the Greene King Terrace, as well as it being a crying shame that so many at the opposite end of the ground decided to stream out ten minutes before the end.

As a very wise man (or Ajack, delete where applicable) said to me after the game, sometimes you just have to stand back and admire what the opposition are doing. Today was that opportunity. The game turned, just as last year, shortly before half time. With the score standing at 8-6 to Wasps, it was imperative that Saints kept the score to that going into the break., for when it went to a ten point difference last season there was no coming back. Firstly, Dallaglio drove over right in the corner and Father Ted on the video player gave the try for Chris White. Okay, 15-6, not impossible - but then Ayoola Erinle went down the right touchline, skinned Bruce, and went under the posts. 22-6 was game over, compounded by Saints taking ten minutes in the second half to get the ball off their own line. It was an unmitigated horror show.

It’s probably the blind optimist in me that when Wasps were 16 points ahead, I still thought we had a chance - no idea why, especially as I’ve seen this situation rather too often over the years. You have to hold your hands up, and say that it was a clinical destruction of a team which, from half time onwards, was a beaten one and which could not stem the tide. Oh for a Saints side that can do that to quality opposition, and most importantly, do it when it matters. A friend of mine likened the team as the rugby equivalent of Graeme Hick; undoubtedly talented, but unable to do it when it mattered, and generally regarded as a bit of a “flat track bully”. It hurts, but it’s accurate.

I’m not going to do the game in depth, because it’s now Monday morning, and with everything above here being written in the early hours on this morning, the feeling of being completely gutted has not gone away with sleep; if anything, it’s even worse. I will watch the game back on the video at some point, but not yet. Basically, Bruce kicked two early penalties to put Saints 6-0 in the new shirts (and, as it turned out, it was yet another loss for a new shirt in its first match - that’s now one win in five years), and at this point the Saintly defensive effort was superb. Trouble was, it had to be - there were no attacking possibilities being thrown up at all.

King kicked one penalty and missed another, and after half an hour Saints were still good value for the lead - and then it all unravelled. The Saints defence suddenly became very narrow, and Tom Voyce took advantage to go inside, then outside a flailing Reihana for the first try, confirmed by TV match official Ed Morrison.

8-6 became 22-6 with Dallaglio and Erinle’s efforts, and the Saintly support, around half of the woefully small crowd, were left with two options - hope for a miracle, or admire the best team in this country as they ripped us apart. I started on the first; that soon changed to the second. Erinle grounded the ball short of the line (which from where I was standing looked for all the world like it was on the line), and some truly desperate defence stemmed the tide, before Saints could finally clear their lines and try to exert some pressure on Wasps.

One legacy of the Wayne Smith era is that the players are not afraid to express themselves, and will throw the ball about. There is a downside though - the increased likelihood of interceptions and breakaway opportunities. Think Bath in the cup, think Newcastle in the league, think Sale at the Gardens. Unfortunately Stuart Abbott was thinking more of the first two than the latter, and intercepted Shane Drahm’s pass and ran the length of the field to score.

Credit to Saints that they kept going, but it was evident that Wasps had taken their foot off the gas defensively and holes started to appear. Wally too advantage of one to send AB in for a try; that merely angered them more. Paul Volley, under-rated and under-capped, went over for a try on his last home appearance for Wasps, scoring on his back when it looked like AB had held him up. Cue animated rant at Chris White from this direction. Tom Voyce then strolled over under the posts for his second try of the game. Cue look of complete resignation (it’s all on the Sky tape, thank god I tried to go incognito…). And then to compound it, Tim Payne picked up from the back of a ruck and flopped unchallenged over the line - and he was supposed to be the weak link…

Right, my only issue with Wasps from yesterday. We’ve heard so much from Messrs Gatland and Dallaglio about respect, about for example how they thought Gloucester showed a lack of respect in doing their warm up run in the Wasps half of the pitch. So the difference between that and taking Alex King off and not replacing him for the last eight minutes is? And to then take Joe Worsley off with five to go in similar circumstances? It, to me, took a gloss off what should have been a salute to a very good team. I’d like to think that given the same situation, Saints would not do the same unless forced to by injury (and if either were genuinely injured, then I’ve ranted for no reason - but I don’t think so somehow).

It did allow the best Saints move of the match, the ball skipping through numerous pairs of hands before finding Nick Beal, and Bealer elected to round off his twelve years at the club by doing one of the things he does best - use that long stride to jink in, then out, and then over. Shame on the Saints supporters at that end of the ground who missed it.

The pain still wasn’t over though - Sky man of the match Dallaglio went through two tackles to score again, and the defeat that had become a hammering became a humiliation. All that was left was to say congratulations to the champions and good luck for the next two weekends, and pay tribute to some of the departees.

So the Wayne Smith era is over. He said that he didn’t want to leave the club until he’d won a trophy, and Middlesex Sevens aside, there’s no major silverware here. It’s not for me to sum up his legacy here, but the over-riding feeling, and it’s one I’ve had for over a year now, is that something somewhere in either coaches or players was lacking when it came down to the really big matches; an epitaph of not being good enough when it matters. Rob Howley on Rugby Club said that Wasps always win the games that matter. Saints don’t.

Wasps go forward to defend their championship. Sadly, this Saints team seem light years from a championship.