Relieved after the inaugural victory of the French XV against the All Blacks counting for Pool A of the 2023 World Cup, Antoine Dupont delivers an admission of weakness at the microphone of TF1. “We had a hard time getting into it. [la première période] with the pressure of the home opener. » In our book, the mediocrity of the French start is due less to the stress of the stakes than to the discomfort caused by the opening ceremony, the embarrassment having frozen the blood of Fabien Galthié’s men and by extension paralyzed their muscles during 40 minutes. It fits, right?
France beret-baguette wants to continue
News of the evening: one year before the Paris 2024 Olympic Games, France continues to irradiate the world with its beret-baguette. An image embodied Friday evening by Jean Dujardin, aka “Jean-Miche”, to which most people do not subscribe, the victims of Paris syndrome had time to have children and spread the word to them. But let’s move on from the tank top, the cap and the beautiful mustache and focus on the real star (despite herself) of the evening, this 50% man, 50% rooster, 100% Malaysian chimera. The opinion of the editorial staff? Scenario not essential. The opinion of the networks? Same, with the added bonus: “Michel Sardou as a senile rooster”, well received by Twitter (well, X).
“My France, my pinard, my pig”
More annoying, the ceremony, which apparently celebrated “the French art of living”, was not really inclusive. Here a lack of representation, there obsolete symbols, like the magnificent country ham appearing several times on the screen, bordering on ostentatious. We sometimes come close to the choreographed version of the retrograde meme “my France, my wine, my pig”, blah, blah, blah.
As for the rest, Vianney as a voiceless troubadour, Zaz as a lyrical singer, Webb Elis’ tirade on the “gentlemen’s sport” or the irresistible chase between Dujardin and this flying cap, the common thread of this number of around twenty minutes, everyone will have their own opinion on the matter. So many cute, friendly details that don’t eat bread. A paradox.