Mick Cleary: ‘Stade Toulousain are not without their imperfections and vulnerabilities’
The giant screens were already being erected midweek in the Place du Capitole where an array of Stade Toulousain shirts and banners billowed in the unseasonal tempestuous weather. It would take more than a downpour, though, to dampen the mood in La Ville Rose as their team packs its bags to head to London and Saturday’s date with destiny at the Tottenham Hotspur Stadium against Leinster, the all-star (five to Toulouse, four to Leinster) shoot-out to determine the Champions Cup winners. There is no sign that the people of Toulouse are sated with their team’s success – 22 Bouclier des Brennus, ten in the professional era, the trophy-engraving expert kept busy with the addition of five European Cup titles. In a vintage shop in Rue Peyrolieres the (female) owner waxed lyrical about ‘their boys, their sons, the Toulouse family, the passing of the baton from one era to the next,’ with each iteration loved and admired for what they represent. You don’t travel far in the city without coming across the Rouge et Noir livery. It has long been this way.
And this generation are well aware of their responsibilities, in the Top 14 for that is a tribal affair through towns and cities and departments, but also in Europe. Stade Toulousain had a cross-border vision long before anyone else.
“This competition makes you dream and leaves a mark on you,” full-back Thomas Ramos told Midi Olympique in a wide-ranging interview. “Our team wants to meet the challenge (of Leinster) and make history. We want to be worthy of the stars on the jersey.”
The final is a showcase event, fittingly so in such a state-of-the-art venue, a vivid backdrop for two sides who continue to reset and move with modern times. They share a storied history albeit Stade Toulousain’s is deeper. These are the two most decorated sides in Europe, having featured in 14 of the 29 finals. That Toulouse were first out of the blocks when beating Cardiff in the inaugural final in 1996 was little surprise given that they had always operated to professional standards long before ‘professional’ equated to being paid for the job.
They had an aura even back then, a sense of style, an enterprise dedicated to the business of winning but in a certain manner, one that would thrill as well as deliver. There was a magnetism about them, an ability to perform alchemy on the rugby field. Why, they even managed to turn Rob Andrew, the English Roundhead to Stuart Barnes’s Cavalier, into a free-running, free-spirited fly-half when he played for them in the early nineties.
