When Les Bleus face England at Twickenham, imagine a pack with terrifying power and a clever set of midfield backs, running instinctively brilliant lines
Here are some names to conjure with: Serge Blanco, Denis Charvet, Philippe Sella, Didier Codorniou, Jean-Baptiste Lafond. Here are some more: Jean-Pierre Rives, Walter Spanghero, Gérard Cholley, Robert Paparemborde, Jean-Pierre Bastiat. All retired players from a distant era, perhaps, but simply writing them down is enough to make you want to rise instantly from your desk, sing La Marseillaise at full volume and launch a hunt for a live cockerel.
For those of us from the opposite side of the Channel there was never any doubt about the most breathless fixture in the old Five Nations. True, whenever England played Wales it was gloriously tribal but in the 1970s there was only one clear winner. The Calcutta Cup, all whisky breath and bony knees, used to require a Murrayfield backdrop and a Bill McLaren soundtrack for maximum effect. Irish visits to splintery old Twickenham were uproarious fun but only rarely were England in much danger of being athletically outclassed.
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