New Zealand relief as All Blacks finally regain deserved crown

New Zealand 8-7 France

When referee Craig Joubert blew the final whistle of the Rugby World Cup, one overriding emotion seemed to be prevalent in New Zealand – relief.

The All Blacks have been consistently the best side in the world for decades, but, despite being perennial favourites, have not won the Webb Ellis trophy for 24 years. Now the label of one of sport’s biggest chokers can be laid to rest after an unspectacular but hard-fought – not to mention incredibly tense and compelling – 8-7 victory over France.

Les Bleus looked nothing like the side that lost to Tonga in the pool stage or that struggled to resist 14-man Wales last weekend. This was a team, led by the immense Thierry Dusautoir, which gave the All Blacks – huge favourites going into the match – the fright of their lives. They could easily have won.

But that looked to be very much off the radar when Tony Woodcock dived over the line for the only score of the first half, the prop taking advantage of a huge gap that opened up in the French line-up, as he collected Jerome Kaino’s inside pass.

At that stage, the predictions of an all-too-easy New Zealand win looked like they might materialise. France had dominated the first fifteen minutes, but just as in the sides’ pool stage encounter, failed to capitalise on that pressure – before the All Blacks scored with their first try-scoring opportunity.

Piri Weepu missed the conversion, having already hooked a penalty horribly wide. He would go on to miss another three-pointer, and his performance from the tee was the complete opposite of his metronomic display against Argentina in the quarterfinal, when he kicked seven penalties from seven.

Both sides lost their starting fly halves in a frenetic, physical first period. France’s Morgan Parra took an early knock to the head from the knee of Richie McCaw – debate will rage as to whether or not it was deliberate – and eventually was forced off, sporting a huge black eye by the final whistle.

That incident might be seen by French fans as key but Gallic anger was directed at referee Joubert for his debatable decisions throughout the match. At the scrum in particular, but also at the breakdown in general, France seemed to be penalised far more harshly than the All Blacks. Joubert certainly had been the most impressive referee at the tournament before the final, but a number of question marks remain over key decisions in this match, most of which benefited New Zealand.

Not that the favourites avoided misfortune themselves. Aaron Cruden, who had replaced Dan Carter’s replacement Colin Slade at number 10, himself suffered an injury, forcing veteran Stephen Donald to make his World Cup debut and take over as stand-off – and also seize the kicking responsibilities from the misfiring Weepu.

Donald gave his team an eight-point lead with a penalty at the beginning of the second period, but France responded almost instantly. Francois Trinh-Duc, Parra’s replacement and a genuine fly-half by trade, was excellent all match, and it was his break that led to captain Dusautoir eventually touching down under the posts. Trinh-Duc’s easy conversion left the match finely poised – and with more than half an hour to play, there was tangible fear around Eden Park, reverberating to the strains of La Marseillaise, that another capitulation could be in the offing.

But the All Blacks dug deep. In what was after all the lowest-scoring final of all time (and also the joint-second lowest-scoring World Cup match ever), defence dominated. The threat New Zealand’s backs have posed consistently during this tournament was largely nullified by the French, whose tenacity in the tackle had paid such dividends against Wales.

However, the All Blacks themselves were solid, particularly so when the lead had been cut to a single point. They had to be, as France, desperate even for a penalty (Trinh-Duc did push a long-ranger wide) dominated possession in the last twenty minutes but made little headway in terms of advancing beyond the hosts’ 10-metre line.

When the ball was eventually turned over after a long period of French toil, New Zealand, in a reflection of both the hard-fought nature of the match and the weight taken off the nature’s collective shoulders, were content to run down the five remaining minutes very tamely.

At the end of 24 years of All Black World Cup pain, whatever sympathy for the French effort was banished by the emotion of the achievement. This triumph comes towards the close of a turbulent year for this small outpost in the south Pacific – a mining disaster, the catastrophic Christchurch earthquake – and will unite a nation in ecstasy. From that point of view, no-one can truly begrudge New Zealand this victory – and from a purely on-the-field perspective, there can be no complaints that the best team in the world has finally won back the crown they deserve.

All Blacks odds on to win back Webb Ellis trophy

There have only been four nations that have won the Rugby World Cup – England and the three Tri-Nations sides. That number is highly unlikely to increase on Sunday.

New Zealand, who lifted the Webb Ellis trophy for the only time at the inaugural tournament in 1987, will face France, who have scraped into the final after an unimpressive – yet somehow effective – run of matcheswhich included a loss to the All Blacks in the pool stage.

France triumphed 9-8 over Wales in last weekend’s semi-final in somewhat controversial circumstances. Marc Lievremont’s side profited from the early dismissal of Welsh captain Sam Warburton, but, despite having a numerical advantage for over 60 minutes, would have lost had Wales’ James Hook, Stephen Jones and Leigh Halfpenny not conspired to miss four kicks at goal between them.

Even so, Les Bleus were strong in defence against what had been a free-scoring Welsh side – but they will know that the workload will go up another few notches when facing the All Blacks, who have already touched down for 39 tries in their six matches at the competition.

New Zealand are, without a shadow of a doubt, the strongest side in the world and have not seriously been challenged in the tournament so far. There is almost an embarrassment of riches in the squad, with no real weakness at any position to give opponents a glimmer of an opportunity.

Even the absence of crocked flyhalf Dan Carter – perhaps the quintessential rugby talisman – has not had anything like the negative impact opposition sides have hoped. Third-choice number ten Aaron Cruden, who will start at stand-off for Sunday’s final, looked assured with ball in hand and also kicked intelligently in the semi-final against Australia. He has just eight caps, but that performance against the Wallabies will have calmed the nerves of New Zealanders, many of whom had entered something akin to mourning upon hearing of Carter’s injury.

Outside Cruden, the backline is nothing less than a phenomenal force. The centres – battering ram Ma’a Nonu, the workhorse Conrad Smith – are complemented well by the wingers. Indeed, there is such a depth of talent out wide that coach Graham Henry seems uncertain as to what his first choice wing combination should be. Richard Kahui, Isaia Toeava, Cory Jane, Israel Dagg, Zac Guildford and Sonny Bill Williams have all started on the wing in at least one game of this World Cup – though Dagg has become a regular at fullback, a position he will start at for the final.

France do have strength in the backs – Vincent Clerc, the winger, is the joint top-tryscorer at the tournament – but coach Lievremont will persist with the much-debated tactic of playing two scrum halves in the starting fifteen – Dmitri Yachvili at number nine and Morgan Parra at 10. Lievremont fell out with Francois Trinh-Duc, a specialist outside half, and relegated him to the bench.

With Parra at stand-off, New Zealand will attempt to exploit what they perceive to be a weakness in that position. Wales tried exactly that, without luck: minus flanker Sam Warburton, Parra was able to peg them back time and again with intelligent kicking from hand.

However, New Zealand have Richie McCaw, one of the most formidable players of the past decade, who perhaps best personifies the intensity of the All Blacks. In Thierry Dusautoir, Julien Bonnaire and Imanol Harinordoquy, France themselves do have a decent back row, but, ominously for Les Bleus, McCaw is – still – in the form of his life.

There is little that offers comfort to the French except, perhaps, history. France have traditionally been New Zealand’s World Cup bogey side, knocking the All Blacks out of the 1999 and 2007 tournaments, both times in thrilling fashion. Even that one, tiny, consolation has waned, however. The All Blacks beat Sunday’s opponents in the group stage with almost embarrassing ease, 37-17, and the gap between the sides today is surely greater than either of those two occasions past.

In any case, if history is to be used as a guide, it is worth noting that no team has ever lifted the Webb Ellis trophy after having lost a pool match. France contrived to lose two, including a 17-12 loss to lowly Tonga, arguably one of the biggest shocks in World Cup history.

Other than the fact they have – somehow – reached the final, this World Cup has threatened to develop into a farcical one for the French. Lievremont, who will leave his post after the tournament, has employed a bizarre man-management style. As well as his very public fallings-out, most notably with Trinh-Duc, he has criticised his squad, at various times, for being “cowards”, “lacking balls” and as “a bunch of spoiled brats. Undisciplined, disobedient, sometimes selfish”.

Whatever the issues of ethos surrounding the French squad, at least they do not have the psychological hang-ups of their opponents. New Zealand have built up a reputation for choking at World Cups, falling short on every occasion since they won the 1987 tournament – which they also hosted and in which they beat France in the final.

The awesome strength of Graham Henry’s side means there would be very little surprise if they were to repeat that feat of 24 years ago this Sunday.

Dodgy dismissal dumps Wales out

France 9-8 Wales

It is best that I have waited 36 hours before posting on the first World Cup semi-final. In the immediate aftermath of the biggest match Wales have played in my lifetime – and according to some, ever – emotions could have spilled over. Some things needed to be digested rather than discussed straight away.

There is no shortage of talking points that emerged from this heartbreaking defeat at Eden Park, with Sam Warburton’s red card springing to mind most easily.

Warburton was dismissed in the first quarter of the match for a tip tackle on French winger Vincent Clerc, a sending off that provoked outrage in Auckland, the Millennium Stadium, up and down Wales and among most rugby followers.

In a World Cup semi-final, in the opening exchanges. The Welsh captain, a professional, not a dirty player. He let go, he did not drive him into the ground. Unfortunately, the law has to be applied consistently, without regard for these apparent mitigating circumstances, and Alain Rolland felt he had no option but to issue a red card.

The main problem is that the law is not consistently applied. If it was, it could spell the end of big dump tackles. Rolland has form in this area, and treated Florian Fritz much more harshly in a Heineken Cup encounter. Rolland is also half-French, which hardly made it easier for Welsh and neutral fans to accept the dismissal.

The law is probably too strict, too narrow and proscriptive of allowing the referee to use common sense. Most observers would agree that a sin binning would be perfectly sufficient punishment for Warburton. Perhaps Rolland might have thought so. Unfortunately, he interpreted the tackle in such a way that meant he had to show red, not yellow.

The relevant part of the IRB’s Law 10.4 reads as follows: - The lifted player is dropped to the ground from a height with no regard to the player’s safety (red card offence). The crucial, and contentious, interpretation made by Rolland was that Warburton did not have regard for Clerc’s safety – but if that was the case, you would surely struggle to find an incident of such a spear tackle where there was any more regard for safety than the Welsh captain appeared to have.

The tears Warburton shed on the touchline and after the match endeared him to the watching public, including the 61,500 inside the Millennium Stadium, to an even greater degree. The sense of injustice vastly outweighed any potential anger at the captain himself for putting himself and the referee in that position.

Interestingly, the IRB have only suspended Warburton for three weeks despite their own directive mandating a minimum six-week ban. That reflected the lack of malice in the tackle and Warburton’s professionalism, but it also might fuel the fire of the arguments of the many who continue to insist that it should not have been a sending off or that the referee should have applied a touch of leniency, some common sense rather than directing all the post-match attention at himself.

All that said, though, Wales could and probably should have won. It would have been a truly heroic result if the fourteen men had managed to do so, but, despite falling just short, the squad has almost guaranteed hero-status for their gargantuan effort.

Nevertheless, the Welsh kicking, so good so far this tournament in comparison with most other teams (except, incidentally, the French) played a crucial factor.

James Hook, who was the weak link following Warburton’s departure, shanked a couple of kicks. The normally reliable Stephen Jones (who replaced Hook in a move that was met with a sigh of relief from the Millennium Stadium, who gave a huge ovation to the substitution) hit the post when attempting to convert Mike Phillips’ opportunists’ try. Leigh Halfpenny’s late long-range penalty effort was agonisingly close, dropping inches underneath the crossbar.

Wales’ traditional Achilles’ heel, the lineout, also haunted them. Huw Bennett suffered a severe case of the yips, failing to find his range all match. Wales lost six of their 19 throws, a factor that severely handicapped their attempts to reach their first ever World Cup final.

If they had reached that final, they would have faced an imposing New Zealand team who, in the end, comfortably held off the challenge from Australia. The All Blacks ran out 20-6 winners, and after the Wallabies were hit by an early Ma’a Nonu try – following brilliant work from Israel Dagg – there was rarely evidence that they would upset the hosts and favourites.

As it is, it will be a NZ-France final, a repeat of the 1987 tournament, also held in Aotearoa. The third-place play-off, Wales versus Australia, is also an exact replica of that inaugural competition.

A Wales-New Zealand final would have been epic. Wales are perhaps the only team in the tournament who could live with the All Blacks for intensity. The Welsh will also rarely get a better chance to get to the final or to dominate the British rugby psyche as they have done over the last week.

In some ways, if we cannot win the World Cup, perhaps it is better to have lost like this, heroically, with a nation – the whole UK, not just Wales – united behind the team in pride and admiration for the discipline, courage, character and high-class rugby they have displayed Down Under.

Whether Wales finish third or fourth, they will all return as heroes. Sam Warburton will not be vilified. He will be at the forefront of the public’s affection, despite his red card – or perhaps, because of the sympathy that sending-off evoked, even because of it.

Woeful England head home after World Cup to forget

Wayne Rooney’s petulant kick at an opposition player in England’s stuttering draw with Montenegro on Friday night catapulted the Manchester United striker to the front of the English sporting media’s line of fire. Within twelve hours, however, he had been replaced by Martin Johnson and his squad, who had just been knocked out of the Rugby World Cup.

It was not the elimination itself so much as the manner of it. France defeated England 19-12, but that one-score margin was hardly a reflection of a match that Les Bleus were allowed to dominate. France led 16-0 at half-time, and the error-strewn English side never looked likely to overhaul that deficit.

The off-the-field misdemeanours – captain Mike Tindall’s alleged infidelity, dwarf-tossing in a Dunedin bar, suggestions that three players bullied a female staff member at the team hotel – could be, if not excused, then perhaps glossed over if progress on the pitch was evident.

But, with the possible exception of the performances of Manu Tuilagi, it never came. England ground to a narrow, ill-disciplined win over Argentina, before toiling against Georgia. Romania were, admittedly, seen off easily – but it is only Romania – before Chris Ashton grabbed a late try to extinguish the Scottish challenge.

Yet despite their poor form in the pool, Johnson’s side went into yesterday’s defeat as favourites, owing to the even worse performances from France, who had lost to New Zealand and, sensationally, Tonga, just seven days previously. But a Vincent Clerc try with a quarter of yesterday’s encounter gone horribly exposed defensive frailties that would have embarrassed even the smallest sides at the World Cup. Clerc, somehow, was allowed to brush off tackles at will; the French winger almost looked surprised still to be on his feet as he fell across the line.

That score opened up an 11-0 lead, which was extended by five within ten minutes when Maxime Medard crossed after Clerc sucked defenders away from the centre. Trailing by at least three scores, England could have ended up on the wrong end of a humiliation.

If there is any small vestige of credit to be salvaged by England from this game, it is that they at least managed to claw back that deficit. Two second-half tries – from Ben Foden and Mark Cueto, who this time was given the benefit of any doubt by the TMO, four years after his disallowed try in the 2007 final – gave England hope. But France had done enough, and a Francois Trinh-Duc drop goal ensured that his side would progress to face Wales in the semi-finals. The Welsh, victorious over an Irish side that were far from poor themselves, provide a stark contrast to their larger neighbour to the east.

Sam Warburton’s men are extremely well-disciplined, on and off the field. If it is a generalisation to state that they all watch James Bond films and go to rugby games in their free time while their English counterparts display loutish behaviour, it does not seem to be far from the truth. Public image is important, as well, and while Welsh fans admire their team’s focus, the English despair that their side, with all its shortcomings, seem more concerned with having a good time.

Another difference is in the fitness levels. Wales made only two substitution in their defeat of Ireland, despite having to defend for the majority of the game, apparently a great indication of the merits of Warren Gatland’s gruelling pre-World Cup training camp. His side were fresh, creative and determined. England, though, looked out of ideas and eventually ran out of steam. That late Cueto try gave no more than false hope – and if England had managed to snatch a draw it would have been mightily undeserved.

Martin Johnson was a fantastic player, but his shortcomings as a coach have been laid bare for all to see at this competition. Perhaps he is too matey with the players – many of whom he played with, after all – in allowing them to go further than letting their hair down in the evenings. His team is short of discipline on the field, too, as shown by the number of penalties conceded and the opportunities squandered by poor passes and foolish decision making. RFU bosses have a big call to make over Johnson’s future. Under Johnson, England have fallen back, and a fresh face is surely needed to sort out the team’s problems and rein in its off-the-field habits.

From an English rugby perspective, the last five weeks in New Zealand have been a disaster and an embarrassment; England have shown themselves to be no more than the fourth best team in Europe whilst player behaviour has disgraced the nation and provoked justified outrage from those who have stumped up to follow their team.

England have offered nothing positive at this World Cup – perhaps from their point of view it is something of a mercy that they can go home and undergo a major shake-up of the national set-up.

Magnificent Wales make it a 4.30am start to remember

Wales 22-10 Ireland

The score might make it seem relatively comfortable, but from the perspective of this Welsh fan – particularly one watching it in O’Neill’s Irish pub with a pre-9am pint in one hand and tea in the other – though for large parts this was anything but.

Wales became the fourth team in World Cup history to reach the semi-finals despite not winning their pool – France would become the fifth two hours later – in a display that makes hyperbole almost impossible.

A third-minute try gave Wales the start they craved, but for most of the rest of the first half it was Wales who were on the back foot. Ireland were almost camped in the Welsh half, but the Shaun Edwards-inspired defence consistently repelled the green-shirted endeavours.

Much has been made of the fitness of the Welsh squad following a gruelling training camp coach Warren Gatland inflicted on them over the summer. And that physical strength was there for all to see in Wellington today. Even little Shane Williams, occasionally averse to tackling, brilliantly prevented a touchdown for Sean O’Brien.

Wales defended their line with an intensity and an urgency that restricted Ireland to just three first-half points, despite the latter’s near-constant pressure. Wales were helped by bizarre tactical choices after Ireland opted to kick for touch from three kickable penalties, apparently negating the selection of Ronan O’Gara over the more creative Jonathan Sexton.

Wales took a 10-3 lead into the break, Leigh Halfpenny restoring his side’s seven-point advantage by slotting a long-range penalty. Apart from the first few minutes, Ireland had dominated the first 40-minute. They were made to pay for their failure to convert their pressure into points, even if that was as much due to Welsh pluck as Irish wastefulness.

The second half was almost an exact reversal of the first period. Ireland finally crossed the whitewash in the early stages. Keith Earls slid over in the corner, and O’Gara brought the scores level with a fine touchline conversion.

At that stage I was particularly worried. The momentum appeared to be with Ireland – and those wearing green at O’Neill’s were jubilant. For the first time, Fields of Athenry spilled out into the still-gloomy Trinity Street. Wales fans were tense; an English supporter looked ecstatic (that feeling was well and truly wiped out within an hour or two).

But with a resilience that Wales seem to have adopted for the purposes of this tournament, Sam Warburton’s men refused to lie down. Within five minutes they had their reward. Mike Phillips spotted the smallest of blindside opportunities, and used power and incredible agility to first brush off the defenders before leaping into the corner in order to avoid the touchline, echoing Brian O’Driscoll’s score against Australia in the 2003 World Cup.

By this stage, Wales fans were back on top in the battle of Trinity Street as their team’s superior fitness began to tell. With just over fifteen minutes remaining, centre Jonathan Davies burst through an attempted tackle by prop Cian Healy, and had the strength to power his way over for a try which Rhys Priestland converted.

Priestland was generally assured, but his kicking from hand was a bit shaky at times. His opposite number O’Gara, however, had something of a mixed day by his usually high standards. Twice in the first half the Munsterman kicked the ball dead, costing his side both field position and possession.

Questions must surround the tactics Ireland adopted regarding the priorities from penalties, and with O’Gara not on top form when kicking from hand either, the decision to start him was certainly dubious. He was replaced after 55 minutes, to the general relief of the green majority in O’Neill’s.

Even a 12-point lead barely freed me of my nerves and I didn’t feel comfortable until the 79th minute. But that probably says more about paranoia on my part than the existence of a true Irish threat.

They did come close to the Welsh line, but by the end there seemed to be a total dearth of ideas or creativity. The Irish team had no idea how to breach the stubborn Welsh defence, and their team, much older than Gatland’s young upstarts, were far more tired.

Welsh squad discipline and fitness has been in evidence throughout the tournament, but no more than today. Ireland made 93 tackles and missed fourteen for a success rate of 87 percent. But in an indication both of Ireland’s constant first-half pressure and the Welsh strength and determination, Wales made 141 tackles and missed only eleven for a success rate of 93 percent; Luke Charteris made an incredible sixteen before he was forced to go off at half-time with – perhaps unsurprisingly – a shoulder injury.

Yet despite that, Wales made only one other replacement – Hook for Priestland with three minutes remaining – compared with Ireland’s five, an indication of the deep energy levels Gatland’s starting XV demonstrably have.

This was a momentous occasion for Wales, and I am relishing seeing my country in the World Cup semi-finals for the first time in my life. The Irish contingent looked glum; their team still has never reached the last four. Today will be incredible; tomorrow the nerves will kick in before the encounter with Les Bleus next Saturday.

The only task for me this week is to find a French bar in Cardiff.

Clichéd it may be, but this one really is too close to call

Ireland v Wales, Saturday 8th October 6am BST

In many ways, it is a pity that the two sides who have demonstrated the rugby that they have are forced to meet in the quarterfinals.

So it is that for an increasing number of commentators, Wales’ clash with Ireland in Wellington in the early hours of Saturday morning (European time) could easily also decide one of the finalists of the 2011 Rugby World Cup.

The reasoning behind that is fairly straightforward – the winner will face whoever emerges triumphant from the England-France match. With both those teams in different degrees of disarray, if not chaos, we might well witness the first Celtic nation ever to reach the last two of the cup.

Not that the Irish or Welsh teams are yet looking that far ahead. They will be fully aware that the form that they have both shown so far at this tournament will serve only to ratchet up the pressure.

For Ireland, many stalwarts of the last decade – most notably Paul O’Connell, Brian O’Driscoll and Ronan O’Gara – must take this chance if they are ever to have success at a World Cup. The Irish have traditionally fared badly at World Cups, and have never reached the semi-finals. This is as good a chance as they have ever had.

Warren Gatland’s Wales, meanwhile, are under the pressure of an expectant nation. The Western Mail this morning is an indicator of the emotional energy expended on the national team by those in the Principality: “

One of these two fine teams will be feeling bitter and disappointed in twelve short hours time. The other will almost certainly be deliriously happy, albeit with a recognition that focus is key in the next stage of their quest to reach the Eden Park final on 23rd October.

Such is knockout sport. The stage is set for the clash of two sides that are the cream of the northern hemisphere crop. Ireland’s physicality and experience versus Wales’ fitness and creativity.

It is a bold pundit who predicts the result with any real confidence. Indeed, many have condensed their analysis simply to further increasing the hype, talking of the titanic battle in the back rows, the need for Ireland to smother the Welsh attempts at ball carrying, the importance of Ronan O’Gara’s tactical game.

Fans on both sides of the Irish Sea will be rising before the sun in order to watch their side, with apprehension available in greater quantity than confidence. But anticipation prevails throughout the rugby world, as two sides who know each other well, who have had very little separate them in recent years and who are both in fine form lock horns.

Ireland will want revenge for the match they lost in Cardiff earlier this year when a Mike Phillips try was awarded despite stemming from a wrongly-taken quick lineout. Wales will be unfazed by that, and – as usual – will relish their underdog tags, however marginal that is.

Ladbrokes make the Irish two point favourites. It really will be that close. And I am going to shun the opportunity to predict it – although my head and my heart are not necessarily on the same wavelength.


Other quarterfinal predictions:

England 27-13 France
Australia 24-19 South Africa
New Zealand 34-8 Argentina

NFL: Week 4 review

Performance of the week: Aaron Rodgers, fantasy beast. This sort of performance against a struggling Broncos side was akin to some of the numbers put up by Michael Vick last year. The Packers triggerman threw for 408 yards, 4 touchdowns and one interception, but also used his legs, gaining 36 yards and another two TDs on the ground in Green Bay’s 49-23 win over Denver.

Comeback of the week: Detroit’s 34-30 win over Dallas was all the more impressive considering the Lions trailed by 27 points to three in the early stages of the third quarter. But the stunning comeback – capped by two TDs for Calvin Johnson – preserved the Lions’ unbeaten start to the season.

Comeback of the week (2): Striking fear into the AFC South as well as the rest of Houston’s opponents this season, the Texans welcomed back last season’s sensation Arian Foster this week – and he quickly set about making up for lost time. The running back, who looks fully recovered from his hamstring injury, ran for over 150 yards and a TD against the Steelers.

Chokers of the week: Resisting the temptation to cause further pain to Cowboys fans, I’ll plump instead for the Bills. Leading 17-3 at halftime in Cincinnati, the Bills, alone at the top of the AFC East going into week 3, instead managed to throw away that lead to fall to 3-1. The early-season sensations, heroic victors over the Patriots in their last outing, seemed unable to cope with the ‘favourites’ tag as the Bengals snatched a last-gasp win. Head coach Chan Gailey will have to hope that his side can shake off the disappointment and any self-doubt engendered by that second half nightmare in south-western Ohio.

Disappointment of the week: Both offences in the Ravens’ 34-17 triumph over the Jets. The Mark Sanchez-led New York offence was particularly unproductive – Sanchez threw for just 119 yards and completed less than a third of passing attempts; the Jets also managed just 38 rushing yards, and were lucky to go in at half time with a positive total yardage.

Unique match of the week: Again, that Baltimore victory. Of the six touchdowns in the match, just one was scored by an offence (a Ray Rice run). Joe McKnight returned a kick-off 107 yards for a six pointer, but the other four came from the two defenses (a fumble return and a pick six apiece). It was a bizarre game at M&T Bank Stadium as the Jets slipped to 2-2 ahead of their crunch match with the Patriots in week 5.

Sad sight of the week: It must have been gut-wrenching for Colts fans to see Peyton Manning, in a Colts polo shirt and slacks, watching on as Curtis Painter and his bouffant fell to the Buccaneers. In fact, the Indy back-up, beneficiary of an injury to Manning’s emergency replacement Kerry Collins, did not have a terrible run-out. He steered clear of interceptions and threw for two scores and a very respectable 281 yards. But it is increasingly difficult to see how the 0-4 Colts can snap that record without Manning under center – though they do have a golden opportunity in hosting the Chiefs in week 5.

Mundane statistic of the week: Arizona kicker Jay Feely now has 277 consecutive successful points after touchdowns. Forced to listen to the Cardinals-Giants game on the radio – 5 Live Sports Xtra – this was about the most I got out of it.

Unconventional Cambridge

Cambridge, Massachusetts, is probably the world’s foremost seat of learning. Named after the almost equally illustrious English university city, its two universities, Harvard and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, are usually ranked in the top five in the world.

Not bad for a city of just 100,000 residents. But then this is a city that has very little to offer visitors apart from the splendour and grandeur of its tertiary educational establishments.

It is also only a stone’s throw from the great city of Boston. Indeed, the cities are only divided by the Charles River, and Cambridge is often seen, falsely, as little more than a suburb of Boston. Cambridge is pretty, a world apart from the common conception of the urban United States, of concrete jungles and skyscrapers forests.

Instead, it is filled with red-bricked buildings and cobbled pavements. The sprinkling of trees adds a touch of personality, giving Cambridge its distinct small-town, almost oversized-village feel. Harvard and its predictably impressive facilities represent the quintessential, if the most clichéd representation of Cambridge. Structures such as Dunster House – a hall of residence – and the memorial church are two of the most prominent features of the city, rising in elegance as symbols of the university’s wealth but without any unnecessary pretentiousness.

Being a student town, of course, gives Cambridge a deeper personality than just smart streets. Shops and restaurants are generally cheap but excellent quality, and even some of those of a less upmarket nature have attained cult-like status. A friend, a student at Harvard, took me to one such establishment, Pinocchio’s. Of dubious cleanliness, it is fascinatingly popular with students. I went with said friend to discover that there was no meat left - they had run out for the evening – yet there was still a lengthy queue behind me, indicating there was more to this place’s appeal than top nosh. The pizza was greasy and staff were hassled – but it didn’t matter. I almost felt like a proper Harvard student.

Up until twenty years ago, Boston was a city with a high crime rate, and its history and culture were clouded by the pervasive threat of danger. But the city I encountered as I took the subway – 10 minutes from Harvard Square to downtown Boston – bore little resemblance to its former self. Clean, green, modern and friendly, Boston was my favourite city on my tour of the east coast.

Admittedly, Boston probably tries a little too hard to play up its historical appeal, through the incessant promotions of attractions such as its old town hall and city centre cemeteries, with their gravestones of great revolutionary and original settler heroes. Unfortunately, this emphasis on the historical tourism seems somewhat false. Indeed, its best historical attraction for me was the superb JFK Library and Museum.

More appealing for an authentic taste of Boston – literally – is America’s oldest restaurant, the Union Oyster House (left), which began serving food 185 years ago. The favourite restaurant of Boston’s favourite son President John F. Kennedy, it unsurprisingly focuses on seafood, the standard fare throughout New England. This was something of a hindrance to me, being allergic aux fruits de mer. Even so, the experience of eating in its old-fashioned booths, of watching oysters being shelled on the other side of the bar we drank at, and, perhaps most importantly, it being full of locals, meant it oozed with character.

Being something of a sports aficionado, though, my favourite experience in Boston was a visit to Fenway Park, home to the Boston Red Sox, one of the most historically successful baseball teams in the United States. Its rickety wooden benches and randomly shaped stands host 30,000 raucous but friendly Bostonians three times a week during the summer months – it has sold out every home game for the last nine years. I watched two matches, a win and a loss, but the experience was incredible. I was instantly captured by the atmosphere as much as the game, and I have followed the Red Sox closely ever since.

That is what Boston and its near neighbour Cambridge did. They made me feel at home, sucking me in with their relaxed spirit and friendly attitude. The wide variety of attractions further underlined my new-found love for this area of coastal Massachusetts, and there is little reason why others won’t be similarly enticed by the great university city and its diverse big brother.

This was originally published at Textbook Travels.

Real victim overlooked by US media triumphalism over Knox acquittal

As Amanda Knox and Rafaele Sollecito were acquitted of murder in a Perugian courthouse, anyone approaching the case for the first time could be forgiven for assuming that all is now well in the world.

The overwhelming majority of British and, especially, American media have treated the verdict with varying degrees of what amounts, in essence, to triumphalism.

There is a very real sense that the US networks see themselves as on a crusade to bring justice to ‘their girl’. The announcement that Knox and Sollecito were free to leave prison was greeted like a successful sports result on American television and in street parties and vigils in Knox’s home city of Seattle.

In reality, the true tragedy has only been intensified. Meredith Kercher – despite Knox’s testimony appealing for her own life back – is the only victim of this case, and while a man, Rudy Guede, is still serving time for her murder, her family has only had their grief exacerbated.

What was particularly tasteless about the aftermath of the verdicts being quashed was the statement read by Knox’s sister on behalf of her family. It made absolutely no reference to Meredith or the Kerchers, failing even to allude to the fact that a heartbroken family now has more questions than answers as they seek justice for the British student.

It all contrasts markedly with the Louise Woodward case in 1997. Then, the tables were reversed, so to speak, as the British au pair was convicted of the second-degree murder of the American baby in her care in Massachusetts.

That verdict was later reduced to involuntary manslaughter and nineteen-year-old Woodward was sentenced – like Knox, who remains guilty of slander – to time served.

There was none of the US media justice-seekers in evidence during that trial, though – quite the opposite.

American media balked at the possibility that Woodward should be able to return to the United Kingdom after serving just 279 days in prison. They feared she would try to sell her story. The case came close to tempting Massachusetts lawmakers into restoring the death penalty in the traditionally ultra-liberal Bay State. Years later, Woodward was branded the most notorious criminal ever convicted in a court in the state by a Boston legal publication.

The media circus is at the opposite end of the dignity scale from the family of Meredith Kercher.

Plucky? Unlucky? No, it is more fundamental than that for Scotland

I do kind of feel sorry for Scotland, as - barring a real upset tomorrow - they look set to crash out of the Rugby World Cup at the pool stage.

But on the other hand, I don't. Honestly, I find them incredibly dull to watch. It is almost as if they suck the life, the creative spark out of every game they play.

Some will say that today Andy Robinson's men were plucky, were unlucky. It is true that the bounce of the ball could have gifted a try to Richie Gray, while Nick de Luca will have nightmares about his failure to cleanly pick up the loose ball with the tryline at his mercy.

Against Argentina, too, only Felipe Contepomi's offside forced Dan Parks to attempt a drop goal with his wrong foot - if it had been with his right, he would surely have slotted it and given his team a priceless win.

But while their defense has been admirable, their attack, so far as it is, has been dire. Scotland have managed just four (4) tries at this World Cup, fewer than Namibia, fewer than Russia. Indeed, only Romania - who ran the Scots embarrassingly close - and Georgia, who still have a game to play, have crossed the whitewash on fewer occasions at this tournament.

That those two have scored so few demonstrates, perhaps, that their pool stage opponents, Scotland included, have been mean on defence.

But Scotland will struggle to win either big matches or neutral support with their brand of anti-rugby and such an overreliance on the boots of Chris Paterson, Ruaridh Jackson and Parks.