The Rolling Maul is taking a two-week break and will be back with you on December 16.

The enormous victory by New Zealand over France in Marseille last weekend was interesting from many angles. I have always considered Marc Lievremont, the French coach, as a bungler rather than true international class and France's capitulation suggests strongly that some of his own players are undecided about him as well.

But this win, for me, summed up the essential excellence of New Zealand rugby. Heaven knows, while they may be ranked the top team in the world they have been bested by South Africa all season and even the most fervent supporters know that the Springboks are out in front at present.

Yet considering their exhaustion at the end of a long season, New Zealand can be justly proud of their results on this tour. It was they who upheld the superiority of the Southern Hemisphere sides.

Their greatest achievement, however, is being a winning side, and potentially an outstanding one, with a collective worth vastly more than the sum of its parts.

In other words, as is usual with New Zealand, they are carrying some players who by world-class standards, are fairly ordinary. Or perhaps they are attempting to ward off the interest in their players by not fielding many that European clubs would want to sign.

Take this current touring party. I would imagine that no one will be killed in the rush to sign the likes of Cory Jane, Jimmy Cowan, Tom Donnelly, Stephen Donald, Andy Ellis, Jerome Kaino or even Brad Thorn. Frankly, even Conrad Smith no longer appeared to be out of the top drawer these past few weeks.

Yet there is something in the passion and organisation and intensity of the All Blacks that is beyond analysis, something that is greatly to the credit of coach Graham Henry but which also goes far deeper into the psyche.

If you were playing in a top club match against Cowan or Thorn or Kaino or any of the others on my list, you would sleep easy in your bed before the game. But as France found out yet again last Saturday, when you play them in their black jerseys (or even in their white jerseys) something mystical happens to the ranks of the mediocre.

Women's rugby: an apology

It was pointed out to me earlier this week, in wincingly powerful terms, that Rolling Maul has never featured an item on women's rugby. This is not strictly true but as the lady who accosted me had a war-like look in her eye I was not inclined to argue.

But I also felt guilty. The glorious victory recently by England over New Zealand at Twickenham deserved around 50 times the coverage it received.