Wales 29-12 France

It was no doubt, a good night to be a Williams, be it Martyn or Shane. Or a Jones, a Jenkins, a Thomas or, indeed, vaguely Welsh and, in the case of the two men who choreographed this rousing Grand Slam, even a Kiwi or a Pom.Warren Gatland, who hooked for New Zealand and was turned away by Ireland as a coach, has embraced Wales as only an outsider can do: with a clear head and no baggage. It has been the saving of a team who looked beyond repair when they staggered home from the World Cup. Alongside him stood a jut-jawed northerner, a converted league man as well, whose loyalty is complete as he shuttles back and forth from his day job with Wasps. Shaun Edwards, who masterminds the defence, does not so much demand respect as take it for granted – and he has it completely from a side not unknown for internal ructions.

Wales play their best rugby when smiling – and they are positively beaming now, content and confident in their skills. ‘Every game isn’t perfect,’ Gatland said, reflecting on this match, which was not pretty, yet thrilled the senses. ‘You can’t control 80 minutes of rugby. But we have learnt from our mistakes. We talked about what we needed to do and they did it.’

And the future? Two games ago he said Wales would be ready for any team in the world in a couple of seasons. He might have to re-adjust his timetable, with a visit to South Africa coming up in June. ‘Where do you want us to go from here?’ he asked redundantly. ‘You’ve got to test yourself against the best in the world and South Africa are the number-one team, so…’

This, Wales’ 10th clean sweep, was even more clinical than their ninth, three seasons ago. Then, there was a suspicion they had caught everyone napping with their flair rugby; this winter, they were clearly the best and, yesterday, they proved it against the only team that had it in them seriously to threaten their dominance.

England might have done so in the first game of the championship, had they not gone to pieces in the second half. But, as you would be reminded if you had the temerity to suggest as much in the heaving bars around St Mary’s Street, they could not do it.

This was not the expansive showdown some might have imagined or wished for, but it was enthralling, a victory ground out with utter professionalism. At the epicentre of everything was Martyn Williams, try-scorer, inspired defender, scavenger and all-round great rugby brain. And he did not even want to be part of it at the start of the season. Hopefully for Wales, he will not have foolish notions like that again for a while.

Cardiff was awash with omens, anniversaries and statistics on the Ides of March. It is almost a century, to the day, since Wales won the first of their Grand Slams; it is 30 years since France came here and failed to stop a Welsh Slam – and 10 years since they succeeded in doing that in the old Arms Park.

How curious is it that Wales have not lost in the 12 internationals in which Tom Shanklin and Gavin Henson have started alongside each other? Henson knew it, as he is famously obsessive about such things. Shanklin, typically, did not. He is admirably uncomplicated and, yesterday, in his 51st game for Wales, had the back line ticking smoothly

Into this maelstrom of history and joy charged France, marshalled by a coach in the grand tradition of Gallic perversity. Marc Lièvremont, for reasons known only to himself, dropped Aurelien Rougerie for this game after the winger had played such a major part in their win over Italy last weekend. It is, of course, what passes for his rotation strategy, a rationale that has led him to discard eight of the players who turned out against England only a few weeks ago. During his first campaign, he has picked three number eights, three hookers, four scrum-halves, five locks and five props.

The ones he selected for this match repaid his weird brand of faith with passion, but not quite enough discipline – a performance from the French archives, in fact.

France needed to win by 20 points to steal the championship and from their first free-kick, they ran the ball from inside their 22. It came to nothing. Wales, as all their opponents have discovered, are now as tight as a drum without the ball, having conceded only two tries in the championship – two fewer than the record tackling effort of England’s mighty defensive wall in 2002 and 2003 – and they kept Les Bleus tryless with killing precision.

At the heart of their attack was James Hook, every bit as inspirational for Wales as Danny Cipriani looks like being for England. He too has to dislodge the established and quality No 10 in the national team, Stephen Jones, but Gatland is sticking to a policy of keeping them both in the frame.

The New Zealander has brought common sense and good judgment to the sometimes anarchic world of Welsh rugby in what has been a dream first season, and he has shown genuine belief in his players, rather than inducing anxiety and doubt in them, which must be the mood inside the French camp.

Lee Byrne, for instance, has been a revelation and had another fine game, especially under the high ball. And Martyn Williams owes Gatland a debt of gratitude for persuading him to extend his distinguished international career. The flanker has been inspired and was at the centre of every breakdown, scrapping and delving, while providing the connections off the second and third pass that gives Wales the confidence to go wide. That alone unsettled France as they struggled to allocate their tackling resources. They were their off-the-cuff selves with ball in hand, but stuttered – and, in the case of Gulgence Ouedraogo, shuddered. Henson’s stupidly late throat-buster did not escape the official’s attention and France dragged the deficit back to 9-6 at the end of a tight first half.

Jean-Baptiste Elissalde, as mouthy as scrum-halves are licensed to be, taunted Wales during the week with the assertion that ‘they were not the All Blacks’. Given that France beat the Blacks in the World Cup, this presumably meant they would not be doing the same to Wales – but Elissalde did his best, drawing them level just after the break. Curiously, he could not ignite his back line with ball in hand.

Shane Williams, meanwhile, has been able to score from just about anywhere on the pitch all season. He needed just one more to go with the five he has posted in this Six Nations to go beyond a career total of 40 and break the national record he shares with Gareth Thomas.

Then, on the very stroke of the hour, the Millennium Stadium was filled with almost unbearable happiness as every man, woman and child (even those who were French, probably) rose to applaud the little wizard’s kick and chase. He ran 40 yards, skipping clear of the snapping defence, and flopped on the ball over the line, as happy a record-breaker as there can ever have been in the principality. The championship was theirs now. The Slam too, surely. Twenty minutes to keep out the unpredictable French, 20 minutes before they could truly give vent to their talent for celebrating.

When Martyn Williams broke through for a try near the end, following the most exhilarating long break by Mark Jones, we were in heart-attack territory, such was the exultation.

This time, it would be even sweeter than in 2005, reckoned Shanklin on Friday, because they could believe in it, savour it. It might even begin another run, such as they had in the Seventies. Funny how history and tradition and all those other imponderables really do matter sometimes.

Man of the match: Martyn Williams

Truly magnificent. He may never have played a finer game for his country. He was everywhere – scavenging in the loose, backing up in attack, putting in the big hits. If he decides to announce his retirement again, his compatriots should beg him to change his mind.

Wales: Byrne; M Jones, Shanklin, Henson, S Williams; Hook (S Jones 71), Phillips; Jenkins, Bennett (Rees 56), A Jones, Gough (Evans 71), AW Jones, Thomas, M Williams, R Jones (capt).

Tries S Williams, M Williams Cons S Jones 2

Pens Hook 3, S Jones 2

France: Floch (Heymans 67); Clerc, Jauzion, Traille, Malzieu; Skrela (Trinh-Duc 63), Elissalde (Yachvili 67); Barcella, Szarzewski (Servat 44), Mas (Poux 62), Nallet (capt), Thion (Mela 75), Dusautoir, Ouedraogo (Vermeulen 62), Bonnaire.

Pens Elissalde 3, Yachvili

Referee M Jonker (SA)

Millennium Stadium 75,000

Kevin Mitchell at the Millennium Stadium
Sunday March 16, 2008
The Observer