Well – at the risk of repeating myself – that’s another one that ended up worse than I hoped for but better than I feared.
If we could have played the whole season the way we played the last twenty minutes, we’d be up there with the big boys.
Watching, it felt as if they didn’t believe in themselves: as if they knew they were on a hiding to nothing and were trying to do damage limitation. Then, something clicked twenty minutes out and, out of seemingly nowhere, three tries in fifteen minutes, and a serious chance of another for the losing bonus point.
Yes, you could argue that Leicester took their foot off the pedal and started cruising. Maybe, but that’s their problem and, if so, one that I would suggest did not please Geoff Parling one iota.
So, what happened to spark the change from the Sale side?
For one thing, Arron Reed came on and injected a turn of speed that was sorely lacking up to that point. Flats and Buck are great wingers with loads of virtues and talents, but pace ain’t one of them. Not when you’re talking about leaving-the-defender-eating-your-dust speed, anyway. Reedy’s got that, and it made a difference, seeing him sneak through a gap and outpace the followers.
Then came a seemingly greater willingness to keep the ball in hand, play the phases, move the defence around, create the gaps and exploit them. They’ve shown on several occasions this season that they’re capable of doing that, but, for reasons unknown, they revert to the mindset of “if we haven’t made significant progress after three phases, put it up and hope Buck can get it back”.
Annoyingly, they had phases throughout the first sixty minutes of exactly that: going through the phases, and pulling Leicester backwards and forwards. And it was paying off; there were some good moves – Buck’s try for one. That was a lovely move, going half the length of the field, running on to the ball, not catching it standing still, timing it right…
At that point, eight minutes in, I’m thinking, “You know what? We could make a fist of this.”
When the first attempted grubber came back off the defender’s legs, we were all thinking, “No, don’t do that. Take it into contact and recycle”. (I don’t know why the coaches don’t listen to us more often.) We were having success holding the ball; why try to force the issue with an inherently dodgy move?
The second and third times they tried the grubber, the collective facepalms from the stands could be heard in Manchester. Fortunately, they seemed to realise that it wasn’t working and stopped trying.
By the time Jacques scored Sale’s second, after thirty minutes, Leicester already had three, but, even so, I still felt that we could pull it round with a bit of belief. Then, just before half-time, they got a fourth, and there seemed to be a slight drop in heads, as if they couldn’t catch a break and the universe hated them.
Which I have some sympathy with, since – almost uniquely in the modern era (or any era, really) – Leicester managed to play for sixty minutes without conceding a single penalty. It started to look as if, every time we won the ball, Ridley found a reason to give it back to Leicester. I mean, I know I’m watching from a position where I can’t see what happened at that ruck, and I don’t doubt that the decisions were correct (yeah, right…), but, strewth, sixty-odd minutes before Sale get awarded a penalty just seems odd.
And when the ref finally remembered that he had another arm, it opened the floodgates, and we got four or five awarded in the closing ten minutes or so.
Ernie scored on sixty-five minutes, Duggie scored four minutes later, and Arron capped off with his own try three minutes from the end. In the space of twelve minutes, we’d gone from a thirty-five-point deficit to having three more minutes to try to secure the losing bonus point.
You see, guys, you can do it.
Once again, massive kudos to Alfie Longstaff, Wills Austin, Ralph McEachran and Patreece Bell for fronting up to a pretty scary Tigers’ front row (including future Sale legend Nicky Smith). I liked the look of Seb Kelly when he came on, too.
These guys, plus the other academy lads who’ve been thrown in at the deep end over the last few weeks, are the future of this club. We may have three hundred-odd international caps-worth of new players coming in, but they are here as much to inspire and teach these lads as they are to bring some nous and skills on match day.
On the more experienced side, Tom Curry made his return, somewhat quietly, I felt, but he seemed to survive without further injury. Luke James looked sharp and a lot more like the player we used to know. Please let his injury problems be behind him, now.
Flats just continues to impress. He may not have the speed of Reedy, but he’s got the head and the feel for the game. There were several names on the list of leavers that I was sad to see go, but I will admit to being relieved that Flats wasn’t on it.
Joe Carpenter looks to be back to his pre-injury self, solid under the high ball and with that ability to slip past the first defender.
Newcastle up next, at a quarter to eight on a Saturday. (What’s that all about?) There’s a real banana skin hiding in the shadows, here, but, come on, guys, if we don’t get five points out of this game, then we need to crawl down a deep hole and hide for a few months. If Quins can put seventy-six on them, we can at least get a bonus-point win.
Surely…
No, be positive, we’re looking better, we’ve got more first-teamers back, and they’ve got to take heart from that last twenty on Sunday, haven’t they?
Also, I was chatting to Jibs at the supporters’ club dinner, and he said he’s available to play again for the Bristol game. So, there’s some good news: I thought the ban covered the rest of the season.
I’m still of the opinion that I just want this season to end, regroup, and integrate some exciting incoming talent. Then, go out next season, chew some gum, and kick some serious arse…
an old grey dog 