From the Old to the New

It's easy to see how Racing Metro 92 want to retain the links to the old multi-sport club and all it stands for.

Some words on Racing Metro 92

Maybe not the first French rugby club that springs to mind, this is, paradoxically, a very new club with many years of history. Racing Club was formed in 1882 with a rugby section added, the first one in France, in 1890 when sporting clubs had many sporting divisions and were the preserve of the elite. Paris was the centre of French rugby for many years until the game’s heartland moved to the south via Bordeaux. The south is, of course, where 80% of France’s rugby clubs are. Racing Club enjoyed a resurgence in the late 1980s and early 1990s when fantastic players such as Franck Mesnel and Jean-Baptiste Lafond ran the backs with an extreme amount of fun and exuberance. The aristocratic reputation showed itself in such pranks as champagne at half-time of the French cup final, wearing berets in a match and wearing long white trousers to look like French rugby players of old in a Championship semi-final which they won! This was the era of le show bizz. These players wanted to bring the fun back into the sport and bring rugby out of its Parisian anonymity. Their most famous prank was the wearing of pink bow-ties in the 1987 final. Just before kick-off, Lafond presented the French President François Mitterrand with a pink bow tie. They lost that match but wore them again in the 1990 Final when they drank the champagne at half-time.

This group of players were also famous for their love of nightlife which attracted criticism from some quarters. This all led to Racing’s modern image which isn’t too far from its historical one: an aristocratic, eccentric institution. 5 of these players capitalised on this and founded the famous sportswear company Eden Park, with its logo the pink bow tie!

However, professionalism took its toll on Racing Club as it did so many great clubs. They fell into decline, finding themselves many leagues lower than they should have been. So in 2001 they merged with US Metro, the club for the Paris transport workers. Racing Metro 92 was born, the 92 coming from the Departément of Paris which gives financial backing to the club. Jacky Lorenzetti then bought the club with the aim of returning it to its former glories.

Racing were promoted to the top flight of French rugby in 2008-09 and in 2009-10 finished 6^th, guaranteeing them Heineken Cup rugby in 2010-11. This follows an ambitious recruitment policy which has brought in South African Francois Steyn, cult figure Sebastien Chabal, French captain Lionel Nallet amongst other ‘stars’ and up and coming French players. However, a lot of money has also been invested in the ‘Centre de Formation’, the club's Academy. Their aim is to produce not only great rugby players, but Racingmen. We’ll see if I become a Racingman...

La Journée de Détection

I left Edinburgh by myself on a 5.50 flight with the aim of meeting my Dad in Gare du Nord station that evening. He was taking the Eurostar from London. So we eventually met up after I had got on and then swiftly off two wrong trains at the airport which were supposed to take me into the Gare du Nord.

While waiting for him I bought the French rugby newspaper, Midi-Olympique. It says a lot for rugby in France, and particularly in the Midi region (the mid to south) that they dedicate a whole bi-weekly newspaper to it. This certainly whetted my appetite. We got on the subway which took us south. I think it was south, if it wasn't south it would be north, but I'm sure it was south. I would love to say what this subway train took us through but it was dark. Anyway, we ended up at la Croix de Berny, stumbled about in the rain for a few minutes and then found our Hotel, the worthy but dull Hotel de Berny. We got to bed at a horribly late time, nervous about entering the total unknown.

Except it wasn't that unknown. It soon became apparent that a rugby trial is a rugby trial, whether it is for Edinburgh under-16 at Inverleith or Racing-Metro in Paris. Some boys knew each other, chatting away quite happily. Some had a ball and were passing it around in the same way that all teenage rugby players do. There were obvious differences: the way everyone shook hands, even the little 5 year old brothers; some were kissing. 'We're really in France now'. There was also the smell of the first Gauloise of the morning wafting around this dingy sporting complex where the club US Metro reside and which is now the training centre for Racing.

I joined a queue, asserting my British-ness in a foreign land. One old gentleman in a tracksuit came up to me, recognised me as the foreigner (mainly due to my SRU tracksuit - first impressions and all...) and said something which was mainly incomprehensible...'ahhh le scot!'

The usual pre-trial changing room awkwardness was there. Out we went to convene in a little stand. It was freezing. We split up into forwards and backs - I could work out where to stand myself, wholly due to my size relative to those around me. They made teams and we played some little 7 a side games across the pitch, with little structure. I suppose they wanted to see our skills. I got stuck-in, trying to play 10 though there were not many positions being played. I often ended up piling into scrum-half as everyone who thought they were a forward just HAD to pile into the ruck. This improved as we went on.

Then everyone was split up into just 2 teams of 15 players, we were playing a proper match. It's amazing how those players who I thought weren't much cop actually started to play when this happened. Je ne sais quoi perhaps... Basic skills were fairly poor but everyone ran hard and straight and knew what their roles were. I always knew how important communication was for a stand off but only now did I fully realise how much I said or wanted to say. Calling for the ball left and right off my scrum half became 'gauche' or 'droite' and my English/Edinburgh accent made me stand out like a sore thumb, apparently. My wishes for the ball to be transferred wide to the far touchline resulted in me looking round and pointing, waving my arm in that general direction. My idea to run a dummy-switch, pop - a fairly standard move across the world - resulted in me acting out a strange role-play to my centres where I played every part. The opposition must have been licking their lips in anticipation of where the ball would go. We still broke through their line.

We then did some kicking, where one coach refused the use of the end over end punt! Place-kicking was okay and that brought the trial to an end. I had understood what most of the coaches wanted in their directions, often through just knowing what a rugby coach says at certain times...

I had made one friend who was keen to translate everything for me and another who just kept smiling and repeating 'Dan Parks', which is really not the insult it used to be. Safe to say I was quite pleased with how I had done, scoring a couple and breaking several times.

We got back on our subway a chuffed pair with our morning's work and boarded our flight back home, with Paris now a definite, realistic option regarding next season.

In the beginning...

Pour saison 2010-11 je jouerais pour Racing Metro 92. And that is the first and last french you will read. Probably quite gramatically incorrect too. But yes, come the 1st of August I will be living in a Paris suburb, playing rugby for another blue and white hooped team, Racing Metro 92. I will also be attending the Alliance Francaise where I'll be learning...french.

I speak limited french at the moment, and that's possibly one of the biggest over-statements you'll hear all day. My decision to drop french for german is one that haunts me every day! Funnily, at the time of making the decision, someone, probably my mum, said to me, "you never know, you might be playing rugby in france one day..." Eerily prophetic. But i'm relying on some understanding flatmates and the rumours about 'picking it up'. We'll see.

But why on earth move to France? Well, I always knew I was taking a gap year and I knew i wanted to play rugby. Options considered were South Africa and, well, that's really it. Then someone mentioned France to me. I was initially wary of the idea, given my limited knowledge of French rugby and my lack of linguistic ability. But I did some investigating despite the doubts I heard about the idea from various quarters, most closer than you might imagine. I then enlisted the help of a very fat french A Level taking friend (Fino Hood) who managed to translate my rugby CV. We then found email addresses for about 6 or 7 clubs in France then just sent it off. I was asking for a one year contract.

Toulouse said, "ehh, you don't come to us, we'll find you". Fair enough. European champions don't need arrogant little scots asking to come and play for them! Perpignan said yes, why not come to our trial in April. Well, to be quite honest, I had not expected this at all. We made plans to go but that bloody volcano Eyjafjallajokull (A Level Geography right there) got in the way of our numerous travel plans.

Then! In the post came some forms about a 'journee de detection' at Racing Metro 92. This was great news. I'll write a whole other post about the trial I think. Then me and Dad went out to Perpignan after re-arranging a visit. I made my call and here we are. 36 days till gay Paris.