French quick to dismiss ‘soft red’

PETER JACKSON

THE MAN TRULY IN THE KNOW

ONLY France could ban one of their most notorious agents provocateurs for life, then clear the way for his resurrection as a Justice of the Peace.

Michel Palmie’s conversion from fearsome outlaw into head of discipline for European club affairs still takes some believing, akin in its implausibility to the US Attorney General installing Jesse James as resident magistrate at the petty sessions court in Tombstone.

During the Seventies, when too many referees turned a blind eye to all manner of mayhem, Palmie and his Beziers henchmen marauded their way to six French club titles. And then in 1978, by a cruel irony, the French Rugby Federation found the courage to investigate how one of their own had gone partially blind in one eye.

They discovered that Armand Clerc of the Racing club had been a victim of Palmie’s brutality and duly banned their Test lock from representing France again for the rest of his days while allowing him to go rampaging on with Beziers.

The French Barbarians, founded on the same jolly-good-chaps principle of bonhomie as the British originals, refused to let the small matter of a life-ban dissuade them from picking Palmie: against Scotland at Agen. They thought Palmie such a splendid chap that four years later they made him captain against Harlequins at Twickenham.

As a director of Ligue Nationale de Rugby, Palmie gravitated to the disciplinary committee of European Club Rugby with the blessing of the very governing body who banned him from the national team some 30 years earlier.

The French have long held what could be politely called a flexible attitude towards discipline. They protested, often justifiably so, of suffering from the language barrier erected by English-speaking referees while at the same time refusing to admonish serial hit-men like Gerard Cholley and Alain Esteve, a second row who could out-menace Palmie, his junior partner.

Now, glory be, the French are up in arms over World Rugby’s plan to strip the red card of its full might and replace it with an emaciated version allowing the sent-off player to be replaced by someone else after 20 minutes. Their strident refusal to accept the real thing being trashed into a temporary measure evokes the spectre of Les Miserables manning the barricades in early 19th century Paris.

The genesis of the soft red, which will be stuffed into referees’ pockets for the autumn Tests, can be traced to a conference on ‘The Shape of the Game’ with delegates ‘united to grow the sport’s global audience share by increasing accessibility and relevance’ (whatever that means).

Now that the diluted consequences of being sent off are subject to approval at next month’s council meeting, World Rugby claim, with a straight face, that ‘a red card still means a red card’ when the diluted version will be nothing of the sort.

New Zealand seem to be sold on the idea, as, it seems, are Australia. It may be more than coincidence that the All Blacks have been hit by six red cards between 2021-2023 – three times as many as during the last 70 years of the amateur era.

The French are united in their refusal to buy the theory peddled by the pro-20-minute brigade that too many high-profile matches have been spoilt by red cards as if keeping TV audiences switched on matters as much as punishing foul play.

Fearsome: Michel Palmie was banned from playing for France after an opponent nearly lost his sight

Jean-Marc Lehmet, FFR vice-president and former France flanker, says: “The red card is an essential tool to deter dangerous behaviour and guarantee the safety of our players. We call on World Rugby to reconsider this, ensuring that any decision is based on concrete and convincing data which is not the case.”

The French claim that an analysis of 480 Top 14 and Test matches showed that only 60 per cent of teams given a red card lost the match. They have come out fighting with Ireland, alone among the four home countries, issuing a public declaration of opposition to the new card.