Exclusive: When two tribes go to war - The local derby

The weekend before Christmas is traditionally a weekend for derby games in France. My first experience of this derby match rivalry was my first game in France. Section Paloise v Bayonne, an inter ‘64’ (the same département des Pyreenees-Atlantique) derby. It also happened to be between two relegation battlers.

I have never experienced such noise and enthusiasm. Brass bands and singing in the stands. Every point scored or referee decision was met with roars of approval or derision.

Thankfully we won, which also led to my first experience of French drinking. I can assure readers that neither the drinking nor the hangover is any different because you are drinking in a foreign language.

When French locals talk about the derby match, there is a history there that is tough for a foreigner like me to understand. Some sports have rivalry based on religion (my time in Glasgow exposed me to the craziness that is Celtic v Rangers football derby) or national pride (think of the Ashes or the Springboks v the All Blacks).

But rugby in France reveals a peculiar regional passion. Towns that are only 20 or 30 kilometres apart (especially those within the same “départements”) can have intense rivalries, often leading to violence on the pitch and occasionally in the stands. The closest I have seen to this exists in British football where, like in French rugby, games ignite passions that can only be described as primordial.

My tribe is better than your tribe

(A brief aside. Where rugby differs from football, is the capacity for sanctioned violence. In the Pro D2 the French traditions of fingers in the eyes, head-butting when joining a breakdown and “ball tampering” are still in use - Ladies can ask their husbands/boyfriends for an explanation. Stay tuned to this column for more on this…..)

The most surprising thing for many spectators of both rugby and football is watching Englishmen, Frenchmen, Spaniards, Portuguese, Kiwis, Aussies and any other nation you care to mention, as passionate as the locals. This “adopted” passion is every bit as real as someone born and bred.

I hear you ask “What about those players who play one season with one club and then defect to the arch rival? Surely they feel a divided loyalty?” My answer to this is absolutely not. Those who play for an adopted team (or country for that matter) often feel the need to prove their loyalty and will go above and beyond what is expected of them.

But derby games are about even more than just the passion and the bragging rights. Anyone who has ever played a team sport or watched their team triumph has shared THAT feeling. You know the one I am referring to. It is the reason we play and the reason spectator sport continues to thrive. Henry V pronounced it most clearly (I’m pretty sure it was during a post match speech after England routed the French at Twickenham) when he said;

“We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother”

For players and spectators the emotions leading up to and after a derby game are perhaps the most intense of the year. There aren’t too many opportunities in life for players and spectators to feel that kind of adrenalin coursing through your veins, the dread jangling in your stomach and, if we are honest, that wish that it was all over and done with.