Goode's last-gasp drop goal breathes new life into Tigers

GLOUCESTER 25 LEICESTER 26

As the mighty Mr Springsteen has been known to sing: "Don't believe what you hear, still less what you see." Leicester, routinely dismissed - not least by themselves - as being on the useless side of average, yesterday became the first team to win a Premiership semi-final on enemy territory, beating Gloucester in one of the more extraordinary games of rugby likely to be played anywhere this side of Armageddon.

Once again, the West Countrymen finished top of the heap in the regular season. Once again, they will end up with plenty of nothing. Gloucester will swear blind that they deserved to prevail, but Leicester made such a mockery of their self-confessed shortcomings that they will travel to Twickenham 12 days from now with an ocean of optimism where their pessimism used to be.

And if they retain their title by beating Wasps, whom they beat in the semi-final of the EDF Energy Cup a couple of months back, what of Marcelo Loffreda, their much criticised coach? Said to be on the verge of the heave-ho for almost as long as he has been at the club, the Argentine will suddenly be more fireproof than a Formula One track marshal.

Andy Goode, who has a habit of turning up like the baddest penny in town to win big games for his club, played a leading role in this slice of blood-and-thunder drama, dropping the all-important goal as the clock ticked into stoppage time.

But it was the visiting stand-off's opposite number who contrived to swing it Leicester's way. Gloucester were 22-13 up at the hour mark when Ryan Lamb, under pressure a few metres from his own line, hoisted a clearance kick vertically into the air. Amid the chaos, Iain Balshaw attempted a dive-pass that cannoned off a post, giving Aaron Mauger the opportunity to gather the loose ball and score.

Lamb yearned for atonement with every fibre of his being, and a couple of late breaks had Leicester scrambling. One of them resulted in a successful drop from Willie Walker, which gave Gloucester a two- point advantage with the minutes slipping away.

But his game grew less convincing as the temperature mounted and, if the new England manager, Martin Johnson, is tempted to expose him to the rigours of the New Zealand winter as a replacement for the stricken Danny Cipriani, he should think again. Lamb will be a diamond of a player, but needs another season's worth of cutting and shining.

For entirely understandable reasons, Gloucester's director of rugby, Dean Ryan, wanted to field an unchanged side for the latest biggest game of the season at Kingsholm: his side had performed particularly well in most departments in beating Bath to secure top league position for the second successive year and, with the year's business at what Sir Alex Ferguson would call the "squeaky bum" stage, a sense of continuity is precious indeed.

Unfortunately, the blue-blooded centre Mike Tindall failed a fitness test just before kick-off, having attended a round of royal nuptials the previous day. Lobster and caviar vol-au-vents can play havoc with a man's health, apparently.

Tindall's absence might have hurt the West Countrymen, not least because Dan Hipkiss was in the mood to play a blinder for the visitors. Sticking with the "bum" theme, the backside fell out of the midfielder's season the moment he returned from playing a bit- part role for England in last autumn's World Cup final, to the extent that he had spent much of the campaign on his arse-end.

He put things right here with some characteristic leg-pumping in the most congested parts of the field, fracturing the Gloucester defensive line and giving his loose forwards some targets to hit. In attack, though, Gloucester were perfectly happy to start with the rearranged back line that came together after Tindall's injury early in the victory over Bath.

Willie Walker came off the bench to perform the full-back role, with Iain Balshaw shifting to right wing and James Simpson-Daniel moving inside. The latter was particularly impressive - again - despite his need for surgery to correct the shoulder problem that will prevent him touring New Zealand. A couple of times, he entered Alesana Tuilagi's orbit and was comprehensively smithereened, but on most occasions he hurt Leicester with his pace while bamboozling them with his footwork. Just at the moment, he is one hell of an act.

So too, though, are a Leicester side scorned. Hell hath no fury, and all that. The Midlanders were on the rough end of things for long periods of time, especially in a first half where the penalty count against them rose faster than a Tory opinion poll lead. They had two men - the No 8 Jordan Crane and the scrum-half Harry Ellis - in the bin simultaneously, Martin Corry was having a rough day in the contact areas and their scrum was suffering.

Yet the worse things became, the more they fought like dogs. Crane's tackle count was vast, and would have been more monstrous still but for the 10 minutes he spent in the cooler.