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Against Wales on the opening weekend, he effectively played both nine and ten; inch-perfect cross-kicks, killer cut-out passes, outside breaks, each of which led directly to scores.
No longer. He is totally uncluttered. His Sevens stint was further evidence of his innate shrewdness and willingness to push his boundaries. Likewise, off the field. His solution? And we all know how that ended. And in his Six Nations absence? France were atomised in Marseille by Ireland, gifted a highly dubious win in Scotland, all but lost to Italy in Lille, prevailed against the wooden spoonists in Cardiff and needed an 80th minute three-pointer from Thomas Ramos in Lyon to hold off the English.
Sometimes, two and two really do make four. How to stop him? Back to Tommy Freeman. He has some serious horsepower under the hood in front of him β the likes of Alldritt; the unsung Cros and Gros β together with a string of thoroughbreds queueing up behind β take your pick on that one. Compare and contrast with Ireland. Anything else? Can England outmanoeuvre the French, run them off their feet?
But can they do it for 80 minutes? And yet we were saying all this and more last year when England capitulated in Edinburgh and then hosted the, supposedly, indomitable Irish in London; free hit, freewheel.
Can they outmanoeuvre the French, run them off their feet? But as much as it seems utterly bonkers to say so, you sense one man holds the key to this tournament.