“Come on, little ones!” From the explosive France-New Zealand which opens the Rugby World Cup, Friday September 8, at the Stade de France, our country will live for two months to the rhythm of the oval ball and its random bounces. A sport which has its words, its expressions, its codes and its values, which are explored with humor and erudition the aptly named work At the heart of the oval*, written by a former player now a consultant, Philippe Spanghero, and two linguists, Médéric Gasquet-Cyrus and Arnaud Richard. Here are some examples:
“Buffet stop”: that “firm tackle that cleanly and dramatically blocks an attacker” is the defender’s ecstasy. It is close to “cork”, of “caramel”, of the “cartridge”, of “buffer” or “stamp”…
“Overflow framing”: if rugby is a sport of confrontation, it also has players of modest size in its ranks. For these fragile artists lost in the middle of an army of “piano movers”, the best strategy consists of getting closer to the adversary (this is “framing”), then avoiding him at the last moment thanks to a running feint (this is the “overrun”). In the jargon, this magnificent gesture becomes a “cad’ déb’”.
“Essay” : strange term to qualify the primary objective of any team. Because scoring a try is in no way an attempt, a draft or an experiment. It’s the Holy Grail! To understand this curious name, it is necessary to know that at the origin of this game a test was worth… 0 point. Flattening into the opponent’s goal in reality only offered one right: that of “trying” to send the ball with your foot between the opponent’s posts, this last action being the only one valued – which is why it was appointed “transformation”. It is over time, to encourage hand play, that points have been associated with tries – 5, since 1992. When a team achieves this, it has reached the “Promised land”.
“The cabin fell on the dog”: expression popularized by the commentator Pierre Salviac, to signify the irremediable character of the defeat of a team. Which, for the Gauls that we are, is always better than seeing the sky fall on our heads…
“Magic sponge stroke”: For a long time, being a rugby trainer did not imply having followed long studies. “A tear? A sponge blow. A broken nose? A sponge blow. A shoulder dislocation? A sponge blow”, writes Philippe Spanghero funnyly. Not without rightly recalling that, for a long time, replacements were prohibited in rugby. Leaving the pitch therefore amounted to seriously handicapping his team – hence the “miracles” accomplished by said sponge, wrongly described as “magical”. A time that is fortunately over, for the benefit of the health of the players.
“Rugby champagne”
“Mammoth Kick”: the expression speaks for itself when it comes to describing a strike as long as it is powerful. The record would belong to Frenchman Anthony Bouthier, who projected the ball a staggering distance of… 95 meters.
“Spoon” : it’s a bit of a solution of despair, but it can be extremely effective. When a player has been overwhelmed, the only option for him is to throw himself flat on his stomach and hit the opponent’s back leg to make him fall while running. A notion not to be confused with the shameful “wooden spoon”, symbolic trophy awarded to the team finishing last in the Six Nations Tournament without having won a single match. An object which was originally given to the Cambridge University student who had obtained the lowest grades in mathematics.
“Trigger a general”: a collective fight can be launched by the dominating team, to show who is the boss on the field, or on the contrary by the defeated, wishing to save honor. Having the slap box out usually doesn’t keep anyone out for the third half.
“Keep the ball alive”: this is an expression that alone sums up the philosophy of this sport. Because don’t go believing, unfortunate, that the balloon is an inert utensil: its oval shape, inspired, as its name indicates, of the egg (from the Latin “ovum”), gives it an existence of its own, capricious, independent, fanciful. How many players have learned this the hard way! In rugby, moreover, you cannot win alone: the teammate in possession of the warhead must imperatively transmit it to his partners, maintain the dynamic, maintain the movement: everything rather than the“bury” (another metaphor recalling the human condition). France is renowned for its actions where the precious object remains alive and travels the ground from one end to the other, until the liberating try. We don’t talk for nothing about “champagne rugby”.
“A mason’s pass”: this is how the clumsy gesture of a teammate incapable of transmit the ball correctly, like an object irreparably drawn to the ground. We also say “toss a cinder block”.
“All Blacks”: New Zealand players owe their nickname to the error of a journalist who, in a 1905 article, wrote “They are all black” (“They are all black”) instead of “They are all backs” (“They all play like fullbacks”). And as the rugby players of the southern hemisphere got into the habit of winning more often than not, facetious minds cultivated the legend by asserting that they “wore the mourning of their adversaries”. And this is how error has become truth…
“Raffut”: this strange term designates the gesture that the possessor of the ball makes with his free hand to push away an opponent by extending his arm at chest height. Of uncertain origin, “sharpen” could be a derivative of “fuster”, “to beat with sticks”, the sticks being, in the circumstances, the hands and arms of these extraordinary athletes.
“Packing your suitcase”: when a player packs his bag, it means that he makes a breakaway in attack after avoiding the defenders’ tackles. If the exploit occurs too regularly, it is the opposing team that ends up “take a suitcase” (lose by a considerable margin of points).
“Terroir”: despite its professionalization, rugby remains associated in the collective imagination with villages, the countryside, and the peasant world. Spaces with which he shares values such as humility, a taste for effort, a sense of community, and love of country. And above all, don’t see this as any sort of withdrawal! As Philippe Spanghero rightly reminds us: “Loving your land, living there, finishing there, does not give blinders, but roots.” Even today, half of the players selected in the French XV were trained in the South-West.
“Bechigue”, “biscouette” and “chistera”
This geographical location has consequences on the vocabulary – notably under the influence of one of its historical commentators, the Landais Pierre Albaladejo, who did not hesitate to speak Gascon on the air. Enough to reinforce the observation of sociologists who, for ages, have noted the astonishing coincidence of France of rugby and the dividing lines of languages (oïl/oc), cultures (wine/wheat), law (customary/written ) and even the slope of the roofs (pointed/flat). This is why, instead of talking about “balloon”, we sometimes mention the “bechigue” – which in Gascon means the pig’s bladder which was originally used to make them. From there also the “biscuit”, “little academic or original pass”, borrowed – linguists debate it – or from the Provençal “biscouado”, defined in Lou Trésor dó Felibrige, by Frédéric Mistral, like a “hook that a horse makes while running”, or to the Gascon “bescoueto” – or the tail of the wagtail, which it moves in an unpredictable way. Let us also not forget the “chistera” (pass behind the back performed with one hand), term from Basque pelota, even if the word is of Latin origin (“cista”, Cart).
All this is just an overview of this vast world where we also come across “volley stops”, of the “hooks”, of the “cauliflower-shaped ears”, of the “fat” (it’s affectionate), “ties” and “clearings” (which are much less so). A universe in which we will immerse ourselves for two months for our greatest pleasure, especially if the competition results in a historic victory for the XV of France on October 28. In which case we too will reach the Promised Land…
* At the heart of the oval, by Philippe Spanghero, Médéric Gasquet-Cyrus and Arnaud Richard. Ed. Le Robert, 320 pp., 18.90 €.