Schadenfreude

SCHADENFREUDE – that weel-kent Scottish-German feeling was very much in the air after Saturday's Gallagher Premiership Final at Twickenham, as beaten Leicester Coach Michael Cheika raged against the yellow card which tarnished “living legend and all-time great” Dan Cole's final game. You could hear the laughter all the way from Murrayfield to Wollamarroo, or whatever one wallaby town in the Outback Cheika calls home.

Because, Cheika, the man who does the best “Whinging Pom” act in world sport always finds a ready excuse when his side loses. Bath, on the back of another Finn Russell master-class in match manipulation, had the game won before Cole did what Cole had always done – comitted a cheap, nasty, needless foul to get himself sin-binned. Cole went out as what he was, a consistent source of penalties to the opposition, and, after Leicester's cheap citing of Henco Venter in their Investec Champions Cup game at Scotstoun, an incident again involving Cole, I am wondering which Bath player they will try to cite for some over-blown incident on Saturday.

To be fair to Cheika, he does have a point about bad officiating, the referee was, after all, Karl Dickson - “Rugby Union's answer to Wullie Collum”; (except, even when having one of his occasional off-days, Oor Wullie could never sink to Dickson levels). But, everyone knows, even before he blows the whistle to start a game, Dickson has been over-promoted beyond all logical explanation and will mess-up big time. He is the English “Blind Irish Referee.”

Bath won with a bit of style and won well, with The Gallus One and his co-half back Ben Spencer pulling all the strings behind a belligerent, dominant pack. At least Bath tried to play Rugby, Leicester's was a typically English performance: “Let's kick the ball up in the air and chase it.”

Needless to say, when it came to naming The Man of th Match, RFU bye-laws came into play: these appear to legislate: “Thou shalt not award a Man of the Match call to Finn Russell.” This went against everything which had happened on the pitch, he was magnificent, in his range of passing, his place kicking and in his unselfishness, epitomised by his scoring pass to Max Ojomoh, when he could well have gone on and scored himself.

The other big controversy around English rugby's big day was the version of the UK National Anthem that as used. GSTK is loved by the English and disliked to the point of hatred elsewhere. The words are puerile, the tune a dirge, but, to be fair, Sam Ryder's guitar riff version almost – and I stress I said almost – made it able to be endured. I ask again, why cannot the English get their own anthem? Or, why cannot the Celts behind “British” sports teams and organisations come up with an acceptable alternate and leave the English to bow to their mostly-Germanic ruling family.

THE TWICKENHAM big show was immediately followed on my television by the BKT United Rugby Championship Grand Final, from Croke Park, Dublin, between Leinster and The Vodacombe Bulls.

This one was a more open and shut case: Leinstr got in front early-on and turned the screw, to have the game all but won by the break. However, for me, the big message from the game was we saw more pure Rugby in one half in Dublin than in the entire game in London. This was because both teams were prepared to try to pass the ball and run with it, in London, just one team was apparently trying this.

It was about five minutes into the second half in London, before Leicester pulled together a back line move, that was the difference.

Some Irish and Saffas had tried to frame the Dublin game as “Ireland v The Bulls”; this didn't quite fly, because, in a dominant Leinster display, there were particularly important cameos from their two “Galacticos” - All Black Jordie Barrett and Springbok RG Snyman.

In many people's eyes, Eben Etzebeth is currently the world's leading lock. Snyman might just be the best bench warmer in the game, with the impact he makes when Leinster unleash him in the final quarter, while Barrett simply oozes the class you expect from the current New Zealand Rugby Royal Family.

So, the Dubs have got the monkey of not winning trophies off their backs, while the wounded Bulls' fans will comfort themselves with their nightly mantra of “Four World Cups” as we move on to the Summer Season of the Australian Press v The Lions – life gets tedious, don't it.