To witness this incredible match from the press box was truly a privilege, I have never heard La Marseillaise sung with such passion, or felt the tangible desperation of a nation at a rugby match so intensely. After filing my match report I recorded my thoughts on the long walk back to the hotel……..

Within twenty minutes of leaving the media centre at Stade de France I find myself suddenly alone and in total silence, taking a side road to by-pass the endless queues at La Pleine RER station I am on the banks of Canal de Saint-Denis, a solitary figure in the darkness. What I have just witnessed is racing around my brain in a spinning cocktail of noise and colour.

As the full moon reflects on the calm water, my reflections are much more turbulent.

France have been knocked out of the 2023 Rugby World by South Africa in a most wonderful, enthralling nerve shedding quarter final by a single point.

This was not how it was meant to end for the host nation, it is close to midnight on a still October Sunday night, and a numbness has engulfed the entire country.

French Fans wander around the stadium concourse in a daze, the nine o’clock kick off which is de rigour in this northern suburb of Paris was primed to send the French population on their way to a Monday morning commute full of joy and excitement for what was to come in next weekend’s semi final, the coffee and croissant tasting all the sweeter as the working week, just hours away, was set to commence. That first Espresso in just a few hours time is going to taste extremely bitter.

The canal towpath becomes darker as a stray cloud temporarily meanders over the lunar brightness, for Fabian Galthié and his men the metaphorical cloud that hovers above their heads is going to take quite some time to disperse.

A small part of Rugby World Cup 2033 died at Stade de France tonight.

For the last four years France have lived, breathed, eaten, slept and dreamed of World Cup glory on their very own green green hybrid grass of home.

It came to an abrupt and tearful end by the narrowest of margins, one single tantalisingly reachable point.

It was France’s destiny to lift to the 2023 Rugby World Cup trophy, but as William Shakespeare reminds us, it is always more terrestrial forces that decide the outcome of these matters. South Africa’s 29-28 win confirmed “It is not in the stars to hold our destiny but in ourselves”(Julius Caesar – Act 1-Scene 2)

Two weeks previously I was sat in the press tribune at the Marseille Velodrome. It was a thundery, muggy Thursday night on the south coast, and France’s magical display of rugby wizardry in their 96-0 win over Namibia left the capacity crowd in raptures.

The joy and elation that swirled around the magnificent stadium that night turned into a collective gasp of shock and horror as captain, scrum half and resident rugby genius, Antoine Dupont, left the field clutching his right cheek, a cheek that was already awash with his own tears. 

It felt to everyone looking on that his World Cup was over. The rugby world spent the next 24 hours looking up Zygomaticomaxillary complex fracture on Google search, looking in hope, rather than expectation, for a glimmer of good news to ease their fears.

A whole boat load of medical bulletins had passed under the Seine bridges since then, and tonight amazingly, under the bright lights of Paris, just twenty-three days after surgery in Toulouse, the great man was back, and he and his esteemed colleagues were hoping to take a giant leap forward in their quest for Rugby World Cup glory.

The area around Stade de France had been buzzing since noon, a joyous colourful Sunday carnival.

The match itself was a throbbing brutal contest as expected, swaying back and forth and in doubt till the very last second.

The mostly home crowd ear splittingly cheered every French success at scrum, line out and breakdown they did everything they could to get their boys over the line, but it wasn’t to be.

At the final whistle their were French bodies strewn across the field, prostrate, red-eyed, and utterly exhausted.

For France they will wake up this morning, if indeed they have had any sleep at all, with that awful feeling of stomach churning emptiness, they have thought about nothing other than winning this tournament for what must seem like an eternity. The stark reality will slowly hit that they now have to go back to normal life.

The fact that tonight’s game will go down as one of the Rugby World Cup’s greatest will be scant consolation to those of a blue persuasion, but the rugby world will keep on turning, and in four years time France’ World Cup dream could well be fulfilled, but to have failed this time around on home soil will leave a scar that may never completely fade.