Nations losing their Six appeal

As they gather in Paris for tomorrow's Grand Slam denouement, the organisers will finalise contingency plans to whisk the trophy through the streets of Rome on Sunday.

Short of losing it in transit, the Six Nations officials can at least preempt the tournament's tendency to make an annual mockery of the presentation ceremony by getting it to the right place at the right time whatever happens. The trophy, therefore, will either be awash with champagne at the Stade de France tomorrow or flying back to Twickenham first thing Monday morning from Leonardo da Vinci airport.

That Ireland, no slouches when it comes to busting a Slam, should determine the outcome guarantees an intriguing finish. There is, however, a larger question looming over the tournament, an awkward one which the legislators will have to ask themselves whether they like or not.

Is the championship cracking up?

If that sounds a bit dramatic, then the cracks are clear enough to split the six into three distinct divisions. There have been more one-sided matches during the last nine weeks than in any post-war championship, a fact which cannot be shrugged off as a natural consequence of Italy's belated admission raising the Five to Six.

It begs another awkward question: how many more mismatches can the grand old event take before it starts to lose credibility? The Six Nations has never been less competitive, a state of affairs for which Wales and Scotland are largely responsible.

Of the worst hammerings administered by England, Ireland and France over the last four seasons, the Welsh and the Scots have been on the receiving end of all but two.

According to Mervyn Davies, Wales' 1976 Grand Slam captain, Sky's paymaster Rupert Murdoch can't be happy about the lack of challenges. 'If it goes on like this for much longer, he'll be saying, "I'm not paying for this rubbish",' said Davies.