Revealed: How a 'bit of fun' backfired before England's ‘95 World Cup third-place play-off

This Friday, England will embark on a challenge that they have only had to confront once before at the World Cup: the bronze final.

The last time that England featured in this undesirable match was in 1995, known then as the ‘third-place play-off’, after Jonah Lomu had laid waste to English dreams alongside his New Zealand team-mates four days earlier in the semi-final in Cape Town.

England, coached by Jack Rowell and captained by Will Carling, would go on to lose the play-off to France – their first loss in Le Crunch since 1988 – with three Rob Andrew penalties not enough to overcome tries from Olivier Roumat and Émile Ntamack, as well as nine points from the boot of Thierry Lacroix.

Martin Bayfield, Dean Richards, Jason Leonard, and Martin Johnson – four stalwarts of England’s 1995 campaign – retell the story of that dismal 19-9 defeat by the French.

‌Martin Johnson

After defeating reigning champions Australia in the quarter-final, we were blown away by New Zealand in the semi. We were out of the contest in 15 minutes. It was a flat, despondent group in the aftermath. Will, as captain, was trying to rally the troops. It was a far bigger win for France than it was a loss for us, in a way. It was the first Test I’d played in – and I’d only got around 20 caps at that point – where it felt flat, too. France was historically such a big game.‌

Dean Richards

Not many people know this story – not even my team-mates.

Emotions run high at critical times of competitions. From my experience as a coach, this was probably the wrong thing to do at the wrong time – to the wrong person.

In 1995, I was an established player, finding my feet. Whilst my intentions had team spirit at the forefront, Jack [Rowell] took my actions the wrong way.

It all started after the Wallabies victory. The next day, Jack took us up to Sun City for four days. I, along with the other senior boys, asked if we were going to train, and Jack said that we weren’t, that it was rest and recuperation – but we weren’t particularly comfortable with that.

Anyone who has been to Sun City will know it’s not necessarily the right place for R&R – but we trusted Jack. We were a little nervous and, as a consequence, organised a walkthrough – we felt we needed it. Jack oversaw it, but it was arranged by the players.

Throughout the tournament, we had a ‘dick of the day’ outfit, which consisted of a Stetson hat, a denim shirt with a printed motif on the front of a cowboy wandering across a prairie, and a holster with a cap gun in it. This ‘prestigious’ award was given to someone who had done something hilarious, stupid or even nothing at all. It was a bit of fun – nothing serious. Lawrence Dallaglio, Brian Moore, Will Carling and I had all taken it at some stage.

On the way back, two days before we were due to play New Zealand, everyone voted and it was left up to me to present the award to Jack. The ‘ceremony’ took place on the bus. As we arrived in Johannesburg, with most players having got off, I was making my way forward and Jack started having a go at me.

I said: “Oh, Jack, do you have a problem with the award?”

He shouted at me and said I’d never play for England again, that I’d belittled him. Being me – a little stubborn and combustible – I fronted up to him.

We had a stand-up argument at the front of the bus and as I was getting off he followed me. Les Cusworth, Jack’s assistant coach at the time and my former fly-half at Leicester, was restraining him. It must have looked quite comical with Jack at 6ft 7in and me at 6ft 3in with 5ft 6in Les between us.

While nothing physical took place, it was clear that Jack and I hadn’t ended the day on the best terms. We played two days later against New Zealand, lost badly, and sure enough he dropped me going into the third-place play-off.

I wasn’t sure whether Jack was standing by his words or whether he was blooding the youngsters – but not being selected irked me. But I had to get over my disappointment and move on. So I did.

I was left out of the following year’s squad for the Five Nations and, a week before the announcement, I’d had a letter from the RFU saying that I still had their Nokia 3210 phone and the rowing machine that we’d been loaned for the World Cup. “We’d like both of those back, please,” it read. But mid-championship there were two injuries on the back row – and I’d supposedly been playing well that year.

The issue was that I had had a conservatory built on the back of the house, and the builders had put all of the rubble in the garage, on top of that sodding rowing machine, and it had bent it. So, when they asked for it back, I was s------ myself because it was all mangled and ruined – and it hadn’t even been out of the box.

On the Monday, I received a phone call from John Elliott, the team manager, telling me Jack wanted me to train that week. “We’re playing at the weekend and you’ll be on the bench – at the very least,” he said.

I replied: “You can tell him to eff off.”

He said: “What?”

I replied: “No, mate, I’m not interested, what with the way I’ve been treated and what happened in South Africa. And to top it all off, I’ve had a letter saying you want my mobile phone back – and the rowing machine. He hasn’t even had the decency to ring himself. Tell him to take a hike.”

I put the phone down, knowing Jack would ring back in 10 minutes. Lo and behold, after about eight minutes the phone went. I picked it up, and it was Jack. “Now then, Dean,” he said. I replied: “Now then, Jack.” And we both burst out laughing.

We were both being childish and we had both been childish – and we both knew it.

He said: “You need to come down. I’ve got a few injuries and you’re the ideal person to come in.”

But much to Jack’s surprise, I said: “Jack, you’ve asked for the rowing machine and the phone back. I’m not bothered about the phone but the rowing machine is key to me keeping fit.”

He asked whether I would join the squad if he could take care of me not having to return the rowing machine.

“Yes,” I replied in a heartbeat.

I came back for the Scotland game and they needed to beat us for the Grand Slam at Murrayfield. I had one of those days where I moved about three feet but Scotland kept kicking it straight down my throat and made me look unbelievable.

I came off injured with 10 minutes to go. I went into the changing rooms afterwards and Jack sat beside me – we were p------ ourselves with laughter. Purely because of what had happened in South Africa, then beating the Scots, who were on fire, on home soil, after we had been playing like a bag of s---.

Believe it or not, there were no hatchets to bury – we still got on. In 1995, I was young and immature and didn’t appreciate the pressure of someone in Jack’s position.‌

Johnson

I was surprised that Jack didn’t rotate the squad more in the third-place play-off, to give the squad guys a game. They would have been very keen. The chat afterwards was that he was going to but the senior players wanted to play. I don’t know if that’s true, but I remember thinking that there were guys on the bench who hadn’t played in the whole tournament who might have brought enthusiasm.‌

Martin Bayfield

I heard that chatter, too – because they were fresher.‌

Jason Leonard

In hindsight, we should have rested a few. We played pretty much the side who had played the majority of the rugby at that tournament. Players were tired; we could have injected a few of the younger guys. But France were the same – it wasn’t a weak French side.‌

Johnson

It was a bit flat and no one wanted to play. Although, I hate to say it given it was a ‘proper’ Test, it was a bit of a nothing game. Nothing seemed to be at stake. Being third in the world did not motivate us after what went on the week before. That game gets simplified a bit, with Jonah Lomu, but New Zealand played a different level of rugby in that game. That was the start of the modern era of rugby. When they came in 1997 they had forwards out wide and changed the way the game was played. They were the best team in the world – they just didn’t win the World Cup.

The whole thing, that whole week, was totally deflating. There was nothing good about it. We put all our eggs in one basket against the All Blacks and then we got beaten by France.

Their No 8, Albert Cigagna, played really well. He wasn’t big but he was skilful. He was the eldest debutant in French history at the time, at 34, and it ended up being his only cap. He’s got a good story, at least.‌

Bayfield

It was so flat that I can barely remember anything about it. What even was the score? The only thing I remember in any detail was lying at the bottom of a ruck, next to [French lock] Olivier Merle, and he’s looking at me with a split eyebrow; a proper gash, almost down to the bone. I’m looking at it and going: ‘Ouch. That’s going to sting.’ An already ugly man, even uglier.

The disappointment wasn’t necessarily in losing the third-place play-off, but more in losing to France. The spell, with the unbeaten seven-year stretch, had been broken. That run of victories against the French hasn’t really been repeated since.

I have always had this sense, having played three or four times against the French, that in that game I’d let down Mooro [Brian Moore], Rob [Andrew], and Will – and the others. ‘Sorry, we were the guys who lost to France after that run.’ It was a hell of a run of dominance against, at the time, the other powerhouse of northern-hemisphere rugby.

I didn’t even think about the match until four years later when I realised England had to qualify for the 1999 tournament - against the Netherlands and Samoa – because we lost the play-off. I sent a message to Daws [Matt Dawson] apologising.‌

Leonard

The match itself was absolutely forgettable but I remember it because it shattered English dominance over France. But it was a flat game – from both sides. It’s a game that no one wants.

We didn’t completely switch off but bodies were in pieces. Done; held together by sticky tape. Graham Rowntree was in the squad and had he been selected I’d have wished him the best of luck. I was happy to play but I was shattered – emotionally and physically – and looking around the squad, the same energy wasn’t there.‌

Johnson

The only upside, actually, was that we had a very good couple of days after the loss. We had to stay until the final and attend the dinner after it, so we were just hanging around in South Africa. We had a good night out with the French boys, which we never normally did. It was that big early-90s rivalry. Fiery games – a bit of a cold war between the two. That night, we ended up in the same bar as them in Pretoria and we had a great time.‌

Richards

I can remember going back to the same hotel and France’s bus pulling alongside ours on the motorway. Both sides, on the bus, are pretending to row theirs quicker. There were 40 people rowing in unison, as the buses were alongside each other on the motorway. It sounds daft but it was hilarious.‌

Johnson

Yes, I remember that! It might have been coming back from the bus on the dinner after the final? They were alongside us and sort of went past us on the road. They all started to pretend they were rowing past us – and we followed.‌

Leonard

The night out was tremendous; for the first time in many years we were together. And I don’t think the match was mentioned once. It was a case of catching up, breaking down a load of barriers. We were all dressed down in jeans and T-shirts and the stylish French came out in their number ones. We looked like a mess but they were tip-top. The camaraderie afterwards was what rugby is all about.‌

Bayfield

That night we had an incredible time; drinking and partying with the French. We had the dinner after the final and, if you think the third-place play-off is crap, holding an event where you invite two losing teams, two winning teams – where only one side is actually happy to be there. . . and you had South Africa’s rugby president, Louis Luyt, on the stage, saying ‘there were no true world champions in the 1987 and 1991 World Cups because South Africa were not there’. Mike Brewer [former New Zealand back-rower] wanted to storm the stage and punch Louis’ lights out – and was restrained by his team-mates.

At the back of the room are the English and the French, howling with laughter, shouting: ‘More, more!’ Possibly the worst speech of all time; funny, in a way. The English and the French were almost like Statler and Waldorf, the two old guys in the Muppets, sitting in the box laughing at what was going on beneath them. They couldn’t quite believe it.

I also sensed that Brian Moore couldn’t quite believe that we were getting on with the French. I’m not sure he ever accepted that.‌

Johnson

There was a warming of relations between us and the French. Otherwise, it was all crap.

England 9 France 19‌

England starting XV

M Catt; I Hunter, W Carling (c), J Guscott, R Underwood; R Andrew, D Morris; J Leonard, B Moore, V Ubogu, M Johnson, M Bayfield, T Rodber, B Clarke, S Ojomoh.
Replacements: J Callard, P De Glanville, K Bracken, N Back, G Rowntree, G Dawe.‌

France starting XV

J-L Sadourny; E Ntamack, P Sella, T Lacroix, P Saint-Andre (c); F Mesnel, F Galthié; L Benezech, J-M Gonzalez, C Califano, O Merle, O Roumat, A Benazzi, L Cabannes, A Cigagna.
Replacements: A Hueber, Y Delaigue, C Deylaud, O Brouzet, P Gallart, M de Rougemont.
Referee: D Bishop (New Zealand).