Rock and...er... Roll, baby!

Whether you base your opinions upon the primacy of the cuisine, culture, scenery or quality of life, Italy ticks every box. However, forget the parmegiano and the pasta, these pale into insignificance compared to a ride in an Italian taxi. If you're ever lucky enough to visit Padova, hail yourself a cab and you'll see what I mean: don't bother paying to go to Disney Land or Alton Towers - if you want adrenaline-inducing, heart-stopping excitement, bag yourself a 10 Euro taxi ride and hold on tight.

Paulo did the honours and escorted us to the Stadio del Plebiscito for Saturday's match against Carrera Petrarca. He looked every inch the Italian stallion, with greased-back hair, suntan, aftershave-overkill and Raybans. Watching the road whilst driving and sticking to speed limits were low down on his list of priorities. It felt like we were trapped in a scene that spookily resembled a cross between Pulp Fiction and Austin Powers. "Stadio del Plebiscito - 15 minutes drive, we'll be there in 10 - yeah baby." He meant it.

We rattled down one way streets, the wrong way of course, losing a wing mirror and nearly taking out several pushbikes and the odd pedestrian or two, but no matter - he was a man on a mission and was determined to break the land-speed record. The only thing that slowed him down was the sight of a buxom young woman to whom he declared his undying love and kindly offered to father her child. Surprisingly she declined with a gesture of the hand.

We arrived at the stadium 9 minutes later, by which time my face and knuckles were as white as the driven snow. He wanted to drive us to our seats, and would've stood by this promise had the road not been blocked by bollards. Still, he tried and even when he hit one, he didn't seem at all perturbed or flustered. What's a bumper anyway? He dropped us off and screeched away shouting as he left "rock and-er roll, baby" and vanished in a haze of dust and gravel. Any rugby match after that was sure to be a let down. It was sadly.

The first 15 minutes were riddled with basic handling errors. Sale managed to win lots of possession but could do little with it as the final ball was never on the button. For all the phases of ball that Sale had, we looked nervy and anxious and simply shipped the ball from one wing to the other without actually threatening. In spite of the territorial domination and the pressure put on the Petrarca defence, the Italian side held firm with both Australian lock Davis and stand off Giacomo Preo giving everything to halt the Sharks' onslaught.

All that Sale were able to muster was a Thomas penalty which the overly fussy French referee gave for a ruck infringement. He had eyes like a hawk when it came to holding on and interfering with the ball when off your feet, but was oblivious to both offside and forward passes. In fairness though, he wasn't helped by his touch judges who were generally 5 metres behind play most of the time.

That's not to say there weren't any passages of exciting free-flowing rugby. There were, but sadly and to the astonishment of the travelling Sale fans, these took place in our own 22 and nearly cost us dearly. Both Lamont and Laharrague were guilty of trying to play rugby to get us out of our own 22, when the obvious choice would've been to bang the ball into row Z and clear the lines. Fortunately on both occasions the resulting Italian scrums were no match for Sale and the danger was averted.

When Charlie doesn't play, we seem to approach games differently. Thomas, who is a very good stand-in stand off, plays much deeper than Hodgson and consequently we seem to lack momentum as our centres are unable to take the ball at pace. What was lacking was initiative. With 20 minutes gone, the game was in danger of becoming every bit as tedious as a Dick Best commentary. We needed someone to take the game by the scruff of the neck and turn our territorial advantage into points. Step forward Nacho Lobbe and Chris Mayor.

Mayor latched on to a pass from Nacho as he tried to keep the ball moving rather than go to ground with it. He took the ball just on the half way line and ignored the easy inside pass to Keil: instead he went for the gap and took Petrarca by surprise. Dodging and evading the desperate tackles from Petrarca's defence, he straightened his line and headed back inside before feeding the ball to Cueto. He did what he does best and steamrollered into the corner taking two players with him. Thomas duly converted and at last it looked like we meant business.

Two minutes later Lamont chased down a Thomas bomb in what looked like a lost cause. He managed to ping Marten, the full back and Nacho stole the ball at the resulting ruck. Thomas stepped inside Preo and lofted the high ball into the corner for Cueto to chase. He took the ball cleanly and raced under the posts for a second try, only to be called back by the ref who'd spotted an offside earlier in the play when there wasn't one. Looks were exchanged both on the field and in the terraces at that one.

It didn't matter as Sale were now building up a head of steam. The pressure was starting to show in the Petrarca ranks and the Italian side started to lose some of its early momentum and drive. They were now the side who looked edgy and anxious. Lamont chased down another lost cause and managed to bundle Marten into touch. Hills rose early from the line out to take a fine catch only for the ball to be knocked on. From the resulting scrum, Sale managed to take the ball against the head and drive Lionel Faure over in the corner. Thomas couldn't convert from the touchline.

Sale's backline by this time definitely had the upper hand with Cueto powering down his wing at every opportunity and looking more like the player of old. Lamont and Larharrague worked in tandem on the opposite wing and put Petrarca on the back foot every time Sale moved the ball wide. A 22 metre scrum was awarded after Mayor knocked on a hospital pass from Keil. It made no odds as Sale were starting to turn the screw at the scrum as well and once again took the ball against the head, even though Petrarca's blindside kept slipping his binding and boring into Faure.

Bonner Evans shielded the ball and Martens shot the ball out to Lamont. Even though he looked likely to lose the ball in contact, he somehow managed to juggle the ball and twist away from Lopez Gonzalez on the wing to plant the ball in the corner. Thomas once again found the angle too acute, and the try went unconverted. Still 3 tries to the good and Sale were looking good. However, those who follow the Club know Sale don't always do things the easy way: occasionally there's a break in concentration or a lack of communication.

From the kick off Preo managed to scramble possession at the breakdown and headed for the gap in Sale's defensive line. He may only be the stand in fly half for Petrarca in the absence of Nicky Little, but he's a clever footballer and skilful with it. He took the ball into the tackle and took the hit, but not before offloading the ball to Silao Leaega the powerful inside centre who grounded by the posts. Preo converted easily. It was a soft try to give away and obviously annoyed both Jason White and Nacho who let it be known they weren't best pleased.

As if to prove the point, Nacho seized upon a loose ball in mid field and charged up the park like a man possessed. He took the hit but offloaded to Cueto who very nearly nailed the try after stepping off his foot and cutting inside. Even though he went to ground just short of the line, there was no way Sale were going to let this one go. Jason White picked up the ball at the base of the ruck and was driven over by his forwards to score the fourth bonus point try. Thomas converted and the sides went in with Sale leading by 27 points to 7.

Though Petrarca were already a beaten side, they came out for the second half with a point to prove and some pride to salvage and for 10 minutes had Sale on the back foot. Had it not been for some outstanding last ditch defending the gap in the scores could well have narrowed. Sale withstood this pressure and tried to take the game to Petrarca whenever possible. Eiffion Roberts, still short of match fitness by the look of it, made a bullocking run through the centre and combined well with Keil and Nacho to keep the ball alive. Cueto latched on to the loose ball and charged his way up field but was isolated. Even so Sale managed to recycle the ball and a clever grubber kick by Laharrague was grounded by Bonner Evans. Unfortunately the ref called play back for a knock on which only he had managed to spot.

Sale once again took their eye of the ball after Hills was substituted with what looked like a nasty shoulder injury. A lack of communication meant the ball sat up nicely for Preo just inside the Sharks half. Preo took the ball and ran at Sale's defence and cleverly chipped through and outpaced Thomas to ground the ball under the posts. He converted his own try and brought the score to 12 - 27. Sometimes when the pressure is on, Sale have a tendency to try and force matters. Occasionally this works, but quite often it works against them.

In an attempt to get Sale back on the front foot again, Laharrague threw an extraordinary missed pass to take out 2 Petrarca attackers, only to take out his own men and cede possession. It was the sort of schoolboy pass that often tends to be suicidal and against better opposition would probably have resulted in a try. Fortunately Martens was able to scramble possession back from the ruck and avert the danger. Harsh words were obviously exchanged again during the break in play as Christian Day replaced Schofield. Whatever was said worked as Sale started to crank up the pressure after that and made their obvious superiority count.

Ripol replaced Laharrague with Lamont moving to full back and the floodgates began to open. A dazzling 40 metre run by Lamont drew cheers from the crowd as he side- stepped 2 opponents and spun out of 3 tackles. He fed the ball to Ripol and was in the clear for the return pass only for Ripol to drop the ball and knock on. It didn't matter, minutes later he tried exactly the same move and was far too slippery for Petrarca and planted the ball over the line to score his second try. Thomas converted.

Sale's attacks started to come thick and fast and threats came from all areas of the park. A lovely signature break from Martens left the door open for Day to dab the ball under the posts. Another scintillating break from Lamont and cracking interpassing with Mayor and Ripol created space for David Tait to grab Sale's seventh try. The final play of the match was almost a carbon-copy move, involving Lamont, Thomas and Ripol and resulted in Mark Cueto putting the icing on the cake by claiming his second try of the match. Thomas couldn't convert from the acute angle, but it didn't matter. The game ended with a 53 points to 14 away win for Sale Sharks and a try bonus point.

Perhaps it wasn't as convincing a win as many would've liked. On another day we might have score 80 points plus. However, Petrarca were no push-overs: they'd given a good account of themselves in Bayonne previously and were a threat. The thing to remember is that Sale had made 11 changes to the team that beat Montpellier and still got the result wanted. What it does show is the strength in depth we now have available to us. One day, and I suspect that will be soon, some team is going to get a good tonking. I just hope it's not the away leg in Bayonne. I'm afraid I can't go to that one as the Bank Manager's had words with me. You ain't got enough money son,' he said, so ergo - no go.' I suppose he's right technically though that doesn't make it any easier. Maybe he just needs to loosen up a bit? Perhaps I should book him a taxi with Paulo?

Joe Williams