World Cup Story

On 31 August 2023, on the platforms of the Gare du Midi, we are a group of around forty people preparing to leave Brussels for the city of rugby par excellence: Toulouse; to play in the greatest rugby competition we have to offer: the Parliamentarians' Rugby World Cup; in the temple of French rugby, Ernest Wallon, home of Stade Toulousain; all this in the week before the real, big, magnificent Rugby World Cup opens with France vs. New Zealand. An omen for us.

This dream was completely mad, this project was completely mad! Getting parliamentarians and staff from the European institutions to play together; old players and novices; men and women; young people (at least 35 years old, except for the parliamentarians and women) and old people (over 60s welcome)... and all this with less than a year's preparation together and only one official match on the books... Never before had the french expression "partir la fleur au fusil" (undertaking something with great enthusiasm and naivety) taken on so much meaning for us.

And yet we set off, convinced that we had a chance, if not to win, if only to show that we had a place in this competition, that our team, that of the European Parliament, had a place alongside the great rugby nations, and that our European values had a place alongside those of rugby.

And it was on the train to Toulouse that we learned who our opponents would be: the Blacks (New Zealand) and then the Blues (France)! Like an omen, I told you. As the third and final match is determined by the two first ones, it will be known later, but the symbolism will be no less powerful.

The competition kicked off on 2 September on an annex to Ernest Wallon, and the matches pitted the following parliamentary teams against each other: France vs. Australia; South Africa vs. United Kingdom; Ireland vs. Argentina... A real World Cup flavour! And then there was the final match, New Zealand vs. Europe. It's 2.55pm when the European anthem is played, 2.57pm when the New Zealand haka is sung and 3pm when kick-off is given. The dream of playing in the temple of rugby, the dream of facing the Haka, the dream of playing the Blacks for once in your life is here. We live the dream!

But it stops there! With the first contact, the first tackle, the first ruck, the harsh reality of the sport returns. Rugby is and remains a combat sport, a contact sport, a total sport, always with rules but never without commitment. The match, which lasts 4 x 15 minutes, and whose rules have been adapted so that everyone can play together, was committed but always fair. The All Blacks, reigning world champions and future champions, were surprised for just over ¼ of the time by our resistance and opposition. But their speed, technique and play enabled them to beat us by a considerable margin (24-0 at half-time, 63-0 in the end).

The heaviest defeat of my life and yet one of the fondest memories too. Because the players from the country of the long white cloud are just as nice, humble and admirable on and off the pitch... the post-match, the fifth ¼ time in a way, continued, as it should, over a beer, Maori songs for them, Basque songs for us.

The bodies bruised by the impacts only had 2 days to recover, but the festive atmosphere in the group, the exceptional facilities made available, the physiotherapist's care and the desire to see the adventure through to the end put an end to all the pain. So it was to Sarlat that we played our second match. Sarlat is rugby in the south-west, rural rugby, amateur rugby, old-fashioned rugby, volunteer rugby, rugby as we like it.

The sweltering, scorching heat was hard on organisms but the atmosphere was total... The stands were packed, and the French parliamentary XVs, in front of their home crowd and the television cameras that had made the trip, had to put on a good show, as they were playing for the title. As for us, it was a bit of a return leg from our first match against them in March 2023, but we were no longer the same team. Our bodies had been hardened over the summer by physical preparation worthy of a serious amateur team. The spirits had become uninhibited after the match the day before against the best team in the world. And hearts had been warmed up for what was shaping up to be our very own classico: France vs. Europe.

The match was pleasant, but the impacts were hard; the tackles were strong, but there was plenty of flight. The stakes didn't kill the game and commitment didn't take over from the spirit of the game. The French were also surprised by our total commitment and ruggedness, and it was not without difficulty that they returned to the changing rooms with a slender 12-5 lead at half-time. We believed we could do it, we wanted to beat the French at home, in this small village in the Dordogne.

We had the chances, we had the resources, we weren't far off, but the French were able to accelerate when they wanted to and victory narrowly eluded us (22-10), but it was deserved for the French. The frustration of missing out on a great achievement and the pride of the result all clashed. But it was pride that got the better of us, with a last-minute try from our captain for the day, Eric Andrieu, 63, a former member of parliament but above all a former French youth champion with Narbonne, who has lost none of his vim as scrum-half, our very own Antoine Dupont.

Sore bodies and the first injuries will this time have 72 hours to disappear before our last match, in Paris, in the magnificent facilities of the Stade Français, against the British. Europe vs. United Kingdom. What a symbolic way to end this tournament! You don't have to be motivated to play against our British friends, but it's a huge regret and an indelible stain when, forced by the British, we have to play without our female players, for official insurance reasons... An unfortunate and not so “rugby values oriented” decision from our friends from Westminster…

But even without our female players, who were able to play a gala match with the French against Japan (which by the way didn’t change much the fundamental problem of gender mixity on the field), our team couldn't, wouldn't, couldn't imagine going home without a victory, without a scalp. It would be the English.

In what was not our most accomplished match, but at least our best, we managed, for once, to take the lead and hold on to it (7-0 then 7-5 at half-time). You can't play in a final (even for 7th place), you have to win it! And even if the match wasn't extraordinarily fast, the impacts were never very friendly, although the players from across the Channel were fair. We took every opportunity to score points, including by kicking in order to ensure victory, even if the English came back late to reduce the score (22-12). This is it ! at last, our first victory! We deserved our place. A group was born. A family was formed...

Like any self-respecting rugby match, the 3rd half is the most important. This is when the players from the different teams, who are no longer rivals, talk, exchange ideas and get to know each other. And it was at the Palais Bourbon that this high point between the 8 teams of the tournament began, and it was a moment to savor! But the author of these lines must keep a few secrets, which may be revealed to you if you join us...

So grab your boots and join the XV of the European Parliament, we're waiting for you for new adventures... This will certainly not be the last.