Every now and again it is useful to be reminded of rugby union’s place in the grand scheme of things. “So, what’s next for you?” a non‑sporty friend asked the other day. He must have spotted my raised eyebrow. “Oh, yes, um, it’s the Six Nations, isn’t it?” Even on Planet Zog, inhabited by people who think a cauliflower ear is a tasty veggie option, they have heard of the annual rugby equivalent of Glastonbury.
And, traditionally, that has been the sport’s saving grace. Millions with limited interest in club rugby gather to cheer on the lands of their fathers, grandmothers and wolfhounds. The technical intricacies matter less than pouring a Guinness 0.0 – seemingly the pint du jour – and announcing to no one in particular that England are coming in nicely under the radar.
In days gone by, for the most part, the skill levels on the field were secondary. Instead there was a certain thrill to be had from watching, say, Ireland kicking ahead – any head? – on a lashing wet day in Dublin. Or rampant Scottish forwards stampeding around Murrayfield like mad giraffes, to steal from the peerless Bill McLaren. And, of course, the forging of lifelong friendships in the bar afterwards.
Increasingly, though, the times are a-changing. It could even be that the 2025 men’s championship, kicking off in Paris on Friday night, proves a watershed moment. Some significant conversations are under way in the background as the organisers seek to nail down the next TV broadcasting deal starting in 2026. Could the holy grail of free‑to‑air live coverage go the way of the dodo? Quite possibly, if the money men get their way.
Even if that seismic shift does not happen immediately, the pressure to stay relevant and marketable to younger audiences grows ever more intense. Next season, for example, the Six Nations window is set to shrink, with just one fallow weekend rather than the current two. There is still no official appetite for promotion or relegation – imagine the pre-game atmosphere if Spain ever hosted England or France in Barcelona – but broadening the tournament’s appeal remains a priority.
Which brings us to the good news. Actually, make that the great (and extremely timely) news. The professional “product”, to use that soulless corporate term, has never been so compelling. It is even possible the 2025 Six Nations will turn the heads of those who normally identify as rugby agnostics. Not so long ago predictable box-kicking and suffocating defensive blankets were in danger of smothering the professional game alive. Now, weather permitting, a fizzing new era is upon us.
Take France. Anyone who has witnessed Toulouse or Bordeaux Beglès play in the Champions Cup this season will already have seen the vapour trails the best French players are leaving behind them. It is not so much the obvious brilliance of their backs as the fusion of rugby’s fundamentals into one gloriously complete package. Pace, power, quick ball, support on either side of the ball carrier, an eye for space, yet more pace. Performed well, it can be almost impossible to defend against.
If Les Bleus can conjure something similar against Wales at the Stade de France, with the once‑in-a-generation talent of Antoine Dupont back after missing the 2024 tournament, it will set this year’s campaign off like a rocket – and demonstrate that Test rugby, for all its extra intensity, power and claustrophobia, can still be a thing of beauty.
Because what sells rugby best of all, ultimately, are those mad days when the field appears to be filled by 30 supermen, all either impossibly big and frightening or ridiculously skilful and quick. Stick it all together and you have Asterix and Obelix side by side, fighting the good fight, sustained by whatever magic potion their nutritionists allow these days.
Remember the final round of Super Saturday fixtures in 2015 when England and France engaged in a crazy 12-try ding‑dong at Twickenham? It is not inconceivable, a decade on, that this year’s entertainment will be similarly eye-catching.
The aforementioned French will surely take some stopping, particularly when the prolific and wonderfully elusive Damian Penaud returns. Even without the injured Gaël Fickou and Charles Ollivon, France have the set‑piece grunt and collective craft to withstand all comers. If not, well, their head coach Fabien Galthié will once again stand accused of not maximising the potential of their most talented crop of young players in decades.
Ireland are arguably the opposite: a great side at risk of treading water. Without the injured Tadhg Furlong they are ever more reliant on a handful of influential game-breakers and it is asking a lot of Sam Prendergast to expect him to replicate Johnny Sexton’s influence overnight. No men’s championship side has won three successive outright titles and they will have to be on it from the start simply to see off England at the Aviva Stadium.
Because England, as with Scotland and Italy, are about to burst into the arena intent on shaking up the status quo that has allowed the Irish and the French to occupy the top two placings in each of the past three years. A recast English side under new on-field leadership have made a conscious pledge to play without fear and see where it takes them. Not all the way to the top of the mountain, perhaps, but they are genuinely determined to up the tempo and, unlike last year, to keep on coming in the last quarter of games.
Scotland potentially have an even slicker backline but the loss of their captain, Sione Tuipulotu, has robbed Gregor Townsend’s perfectly balanced midfield of its central strut. While the Scots still have Finn Russell’s sorcery even Italy will now be approaching the game at Murrayfield on Saturday with renewed relish. Last year they drew with France and defeated Scotland and Wales and, 25 years on from their tournament admission, are a squad on the rise.
Which leaves Wales, wooden spoonists last year, at risk of retaining that unwanted kitchen implement. Their biggest hope, along with every other home union, is that the dangled carrot of a British & Irish Lions tour inspires Jac Morgan, Aaron Wainwright, Will Rowlands and Gloucester’s classy Tomos Williams to confound the predictions of pessimistic outsiders.
Maybe that collective motivation is France’s biggest threat. It is necessary to rewind to 1997 to find the last time one of England, Wales, Scotland or Ireland failed to win the championship immediately before a Lions tour. All too often there tends to be a fiendish twist absolutely no one saw coming. So bonne chance to your granny and your wolfhound, and do you think England might be dark horses this year?
