by The call to clichés of French rugby is great but not what it once was. In the era of the ultra-professional, the stories of sticking and gouging are thankfully gone, the days of players’ pre-match wine are over, and the concept of home loss – once anathema to home denizens – is more palatable. in an increasingly globalized world. French rugby, when compared to its rivals, remains the most culturally rich, diverse and emotionally tribal – with the Top 14 and ProD2 being rugby’s standard bearers global town – but it certainly pales in comparison to the brutality and parochialism of his. amateur era.
However, there is still something almost alluring and mysterious about French rugby – known as l’Ovalie in France – and all my travels in this beautiful country – out of the 30 towns and stadiums where I have played or looking at them – there. Nowhere embodies the true distillation of l’Ovalie like Bayonne. Over the years regarded as the baby brother of neighboring Olympique Biarritz, without a domestic title to speak of since 1943, Aviron Bayonnais – to give the club its full moniker – has grown into a Basque behemoth, the gold standard of domestic rugby with an almost unparalleled commitment to their club; and the gold standard of the back, too. There is no Bayonne billionaire, but a town full of fanatics, bursting with pride for his town and club.
Famous for its lively summer festival and delicious jamon and chocolate, Bayonne is a working town in south-west France at the confluence of the Ardor and Nive rivers, seven kilometers inland from the Atlantic. On and off the pitch, Bayonne has spent a lot of time in the shadow of nearby Biarritz, the glamorous coastal town a stone’s throw away; but, today, Biarritz have made it in the second tier of French rugby – not to make too strong a fist of it – and Bayonne is flying the Basque flag as an established name in the Top 14. Because there are only six kilometers between the two stadiums, the competition between the two is intense, verding on toxic. On a recent visit, my second in six months, when asked what they thought of Biarritz, one local said they didn’t understand the question, another said they hadn’t heard of it, and another blew a raspberry. One of them felt that they were only half-joking.
Although not among the league’s heavyweights like Toulouse or Racing 92, even without a squad full of superstars, Bayonne trumps towns like Castres, La Rochelle and Clermont-Ferrand in terms of day-to-day experience. This Basque town, full of boutiques, brasseries and Bon vivants, is the lesser-known jewel in France’s rugby crown; the best place I’ve ever seen a home rugby game. Manu Tuilagi and, possibly, Danny Care will be in for a treat next season.
The reasons are endless. Let’s kick off Bayonne’s bonkers season. The concept of home loss may be more palatable among professional French clubs, but Bayonne’s Stade Jean-Dauger – the club’s magnificent stadium named after their famous venue – is the embodiment of a French fortress. Bayonne are winless at home this season – Toulouse and league leaders Stade Français are among those who have come out on top – but have not won a single game away from home. Ninth out of 14 in the table and unbeaten at home, the latest victory a one point nail down on European champions La Rochelle.
I had the privilege – since tickets for one of Jean-Dauger’s 14,370 seats are as rare as poor French cheese – to attend La Rochelle’s win last Saturday with four friends, the latest replay of the road trip rugby I wrote about in. these pages last year. It was a cup final atmosphere, the game that was the talk of the town even at 1pm on Saturday ahead of 9pm, with the jerseys of both teams filling the streets. While having lunch at the quaint Dacquois in the cobbled center of town, his diverse fans passing by, decked out in club shirts, neckerchiefs or berets, heading to the Vestiaire bar next to the stadium that was pumping even seven an hour before the start. Aviron Bayonnais’ colors are white and blue and if you cut the townspeople on match day they hide.
“We are lucky geographically, with a club in the center of town,” says Philippe Tayeb, president of Bayonne. “It caused an even greater marriage between the club and the fans. They are the best fans – because they are ours. They are there for the good times and the bad – and that is important. They are there when we win and they are there when we lose and that is important for the players. They are so loyal.”
Maybe Bayonne is not as chic as neighboring Biarritz but it is just as charming, the local Bayonnais people are among the most welcoming, hospitable and loquacious in all of France. A fake compliment? Perhaps, but the Basques are different, an almost mystical race, of unknown origin, across the border with Spain. For example, while soaking up the pre-match atmosphere in the Des Basses Pyrénées stadium, a Bayonne director overheard a conversation about our road trip and was so impressed by our commitment to the cause of French rugby that he marched us to the club. club shop around the corner and we gave a Bayonne jersey and a beret each – free. We offered to pay, of course, but the director refused and, I have to say, he didn’t know at that point that I was a rugby writer. It was a great display of generosity and rugby spirit.
All this, too, before even mentioning La Peña Baiona, the club’s hair-raising song that is sung before every game and now, thanks to its motivational melody and riotous chorus, has grown into the unofficial anthem of the French team, to be heard loudly by All Les Bleus series.
How strange that the anthem of a particular club has changed into the soundtrack of the national side. It is the equivalent of Mighty Quin accompanying England games. If anything, because of its geographical proximity, that would be more sensible since Bayonne is 750 kilometers from Paris. “La Peña Baiona embraces generations and cultures,” says Tayeb. “It was a great honor to hear it as the World Cup anthem last year.”
That is the Bayonne effect; one that not only left their great rivals Biarritz reeling, but one that created the biggest carnival in French rugby.
