They’ll never change, so ardently do they believe in their principles, but Harlequins’ dedication to the beautiful game and their corresponding disdain for the statistical – such as points – has bitten them once again. This was a costly home defeat for their European hopes. A big win in Castres could yet see them through but they have fallen from first in Pool 2 to third in the blink of an eye.
This was a classic mugging by Wasps. Remarkable defence, James Haskell particularly heroic with almost 30 tackles, and a couple of deadly early tries have tucked them into second. They face Leinster at their new home in Coventry next weekend. A win will see them top the group. They are a team on the up, and how they earned this win.
The first half was extraordinary. It is now established that playing without the ball is no bad thing but rarely can a side have found themselves 17-0 up at half-time, having endured the pummelling – and not just pummelling, the pulling apart too – that Wasps withstood in that first 40. A tackle count of 112 would suffice for most 80-minute shifts – that was Wasps’ tally at half-time.
“It’s hard to believe we didn’t score,” said Conor O’Shea, Quins’ director of rugby, of that first 40. “It looked easier to score than not at times.”
It’s agonising to watch. How can you not wish Harlequins well when they play with such ambition, such breathless pace? They remind you of noble knights who simply refuse to resort to the dishonourable, or even just to anything less than the highest ideals of chivalry. But then a time comes when you want to shake them and scream in their face: “Points!”
They refused to take them, as if the scoring of points were the most vulgar offence. Indeed, their refusal to do so coughed up points for the opposition. Wasps were only too happy to take them, like the backstreet gangsters that most successful rugby teams are.
Quins were trailing to an early penalty when they were awarded one themselves straight in front with barely 10 minutes gone. Danny Care was off before anyone could mention the p word. A lovely, jinking run followed, of course, into Wasps’ 22, but then came the forced, manic pass to no one in particular. No one, that is, but Christian Wade. Needless to say, he was gone – 10-0.
Then another England international, Mike Brown, kicked out on the full, and from the lineout and rucks that followed Joe Simpson cut inside a prop and was clean through – 17-0 in 20 minutes. It was the sort of wound that might make an honest knight feel sick.
What followed for the next 20 minutes was the most relentless, frantic, at times fabulous, exhibition of non-stop, pig-headed running rugby. Nick Easter has been in the news a bit lately and was magnificent again – powerful, pacy and exquisitely soft-handed. All of the Quins back row – England captain, Chris Robshaw, and young hopeful Jack Clifford – were superb with ball in hand.
And the ball was constantly in Harlequins’ hands. The pressure was furious, the first penalty won in the 25th minute, straight in front, 10 metres out. They went for the scrum. Ben Botica kicked the ball dead a few phases later with Care screaming for the inside pass that would have put him over.
The policy was now set. To back down from it would have brought dishonour on their house. Penalty after penalty, tap after scrum after kick to the corner. Nathan Hughes saw yellow for the umpteenth offence on the half-hour. Still the pummelling kept coming, and the running, and the delicious sleights of hand.
But not the points. Haskell, another England back-rower, was magnificent too, albeit in the inverse departments, and when he crouched over the ball on the stroke of half-time, right under his posts, a couple of yards out, and won Wasps’ first penalty since that opening score 35 minutes earlier, his team-mates roared at the lifting of the siege.
Andy Goode slotted another penalty a minute into the second half, and only then did Quins finally point to the sticks at their next opportunity. The ironic cheers were the loudest of the night.
But Harlequins had pretty much blown themselves out. Their precision, always lacking in their finishing, now deserted their build-up play. There was more parity in the second half. Indeed, Wasps’ scrum started to dominate, having suffered a torrid first half, and it earned Elliot Daly another shot at goal, which he took from 55 metres out on the hour. It was a final stiletto behind the breastplate.
