Morgane Bourgeois’ World Cup notebook: The Final Chapter

The first few days were heavy. The semi-final defeat left a bitterness that refused to fade, yet the task ahead was clear: rise again, recover, and find the energy to take one last step onto the podium.

A long tournament leaves its mark, with bodies aching and minds equally drained. The absence of loved ones grows heavier as the weeks drag on, and thoughts drift to home, routine, and familiar surroundings. Still, the awareness lingers that every moment left must be lived to the fullest.

Relief came in small but powerful ways. Nana (Annaëlle Deshayes) sparked laughter with a giant game of hide-and-seek inside the team complex, a moment that restored a sense of lightness and gave the week a turning point.

Gaby (Vernier) is often teased for her early nostalgia, but she is right: returning to ordinary life always carries its own weight. So smiles are shared, resolve hardens, and in training, the positive mood holds firm. Everyone is determined to savour the journey until the very end.

A day off in London brought space to breathe and time to wander the streets, take in the city, and simply enjoy being together.

That evening, a singer joined the squad for dinner, his voice filling the room until the team joined in, singing back and moving with the rhythm. Then Maka (Baleinadogo) stepped up to the microphone. Her voice silenced the room, strong, surprising, unforgettable. These are the pieces of a campaign that stay with you forever.

On Friday evening, during the jersey presentation, Carla Neisen played a video retracing the team’s journey since June.

Some players were in tears while others laughed until their stomachs hurt, as every step came flooding back the work, the setbacks, the obstacles overcome, and the bonds built.

On the eve of the match, it meant everything: proof of belonging and a reminder that this team had earned the right to fight for third place.

Then came the bronze final. An early kick-off demanded an early start, with pasta on the table at eight in the morning, hardly the breakfast of choice.

Stepping into the stadium was another shock; the stands were already full by 11 a.m. The players knew the final would draw a huge crowd and that England would be carried by their supporters, but feeling that passion so early in the day sent shivers down their spines. Here, rugby is a culture unlike anywhere else.

The match itself brought only frustration. The pattern was all too familiar: high hopes and early promise, followed by a long spell without reward, then a late reaction that came too late to change the outcome.

The disappointment cut deep, almost beyond words. To fall so close to the podium is painful, all the more when thinking back to the last World Cup, when the ambition was to do better but the result was worse. Such is the unforgiving truth of sport.

Now comes rest. Soon, the work will begin again, fueled by anger, driven by ambition for the next four years, and with one unchanged objective: to one day elevate France to the very top of the world.