Never in doubt…
You could look at this game as a heart-stopping, bum-clenching roller coaster that we narrowly squeaked though despite gifting them scores and buggering up chances of our own.
Or you could look at it as a heart-stopping, bum-clenching roller coaster that we won in the face of a Northampton side who played as if they knew that their hopes of a playoff spot hinged on this game.
Let’s put it this way: we’re currently fifth after round thirteen. Last year, we were eighth after round fourteen.
OK, we had three home games and two away last year; this year, it’s two home and three away. But, back then, we were sixth with two games to go. We’re currently fifth.
Also, substituting Bristol for Newcastle, we have the same teams for the run-in as last year, just at the opposite venues. Quins, Leicester and Exeter are all beatable at their places, and Bristol and Sarries are beatable at home.
I’m putting all this up front to give a bit of perspective before pointing out that we really should have won this game more comfortably than we did, that we butchered some good positions and that we gifted them two (arguably three) tries through some – frankly – wimpy tackling.
It all started off well: pretty much the first fifteen minutes was all Sale. We had Flats pirouetting over the line ten minutes in with the Saints fly half, James, being binned for head contact during the build-up. Freeman went for a rest three minutes later after deliberately knocking on during a promising Sale attack, before Tom (O) then turned provider with a lovely kick-through, picked up by Tom (C) and scored by Tom (R). Twelve-nil up and sailing…
Aside: I’ve got nothing against Henry Pollock: I think he’s a great talent, who is going to be a force for England in the coming years. I hope he makes a mark in Argentina over the summer (especially if that means that both Currys are in Australia). But, boy, am I getting tired of the collective worship among the TNT (and YouTube) pundits over him. They did the same to Asher last year, and they’ll move on to another golden boy du jour next season. It’s tiresome. Can’t we just accept that he’s a singular talent without wetting our pants in excitement every time he picks up the ball?
Anyway, Saints took a quick tap penalty and gave the ball to Pollock, who proceeded to crash through three flailing Sale tackles before handing off to Iyogun, who duly scored the try. Suddenly, it’s twelve-five and we’re looking around wondering what just happened.
Sale pulled it back to a twelve-point margin when Buck scored in the left corner but lost it again by allowing Freeman through an open barn door in the defence.
Seventeen-twelve at half time was, we felt, not enough and not enough reward from the chances we created.
Aaaaaaannnnddd…
Within a minute of the restart, another couple of missed tackles, a deft kick-on and Pollock had evened the scores.
Five minutes later, Bev – on his 100th appearance – scored from a driving maul to give us a seven-point lead again, along with a try bonus point.
After that, it mostly turned into a bit of a midfield back-and-forth, with little cohesion from either side. Sale spurned two opportunities: one when a sideways pass from Carps went slightly behind Buck, causing him to spill it when a clean take could have seen him home; the other when Flats was put clear and pulled down short of the line. With Tom Curry outside and Ernie inside, you just felt that giving the ball either way would have made things a lot more comfortable.
Northampton had, however, infringed in the build-up to Flats’s break, so we at least got three points out of it and a ten-point lead with fifteen minutes to go.
Then it was five minutes to go, still ten points ahead. But then Dingwall went through another gap in the defence, and suddenly, the gap was three points.
Squeaky bum time…
Two minutes to go, Sale are awarded a penalty in midfield. In hindsight, I wonder if they should have gone for goal. It was tricky, but it would have taken another minute off the clock and potentially put us six points ahead. As it was, they went for the line-out.
So, we’re deep in the Northampton half and just need to keep hold of the ball for a couple of minutes.
We can’t do anything the easy way, can we?
Did you know that we (apparently) have the best line-out in the league? It doesn’t feel that way, but we have a 92% success rate. I’m guessing that most of the other 8% were within ten metres of the opposition goal line, because – inevitably – we buggered it up and gave them possession with time on the clock.
Still, time’s nearly up, and they’ve got sixty-odd metres to go…
… So, let’s give up a penalty so they can have a lineout with only twenty metres to go.
Squeak, squeak…
They take it off the top and rapidly shift the ball across the field…
Squeak, squeak, squeak…
… Where Flats Reedy puts in a great tackle and Carps gets over the ball…
Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak…
… And the ref gives the penalty.
And relax.
So, a bit of Curate’s Egg of a game. We seem to be more willing – on the evidence of this game and the previous one – to use the backs for more phases. Gus has been kicking a lot less, and we look to be trying to carry more.
Or, at least, it seems that way. Looking at the stats, though, doesn’t show any significant change in the number of carries or the number of kicks. But it feels different. There must be some change in the style or pattern of attack that doesn’t show up in the stats but gives a different impression of what we’re doing.
Like the line-out: it doesn’t feel like we have a 92% success rate. If asked sight unseen, I’d have thought it fared poorly compared to others. If I’m right, though, and most of the failed line-outs happen in important positions, then that would skew your impressions.
Like I say, the probability of buggering up a line-out is inversely proportional to its distance from the goal line.
We are, as I said, fifth.
We’ve won eight games and taken thirty-nine of a possible forty points from them. That is, we’ve won with a try bonus point in every game except that first one against Quins.
But… We’ve lost five games and taken a grand total of no points whatsoever from them. In three of those defeats, we scored three tries. One more try in each of them and we would be third on forty-three points.
I’ve said before that one win is worth more than four bonus points (look at Sarries: they have four BPs more than us and are on the same number of league points. We are above them) but five or more… Gloucester and Leicester are above us, despite having one fewer win (Leicester do have two points from draw, though).
If we don’t get there this season, it’ll be because we can’t fight out a tight defeat, not because we can’t win well.
Flats got Player of the Match, deservedly; Carps looked his usual solid self and made the bacon-saving turnover at the end; Tom Curry put in some monster hits, as did Ernie and J-L. George Ford was not as imperious as against Newcastle, but still provided the steady hand on the tiller. Apparently, that card was the first he’d received in eleven years. Makes you proud…
Anyway, that’s it for this week. I’m off to start packing for Toulouse (3 am start: argh!).
I’m not expecting any great upset. As long as we do better than Leicester did in January, I think I’ll be content.
French food, French wine, French cheese, good mates and loads of laughs, that’s a European away trip: a cracking weekend with a game of rugby in there somewhere.
an old grey dog 