France 44; Ireland 5: The worst aspect of Ireland's second record defeat of the championship was that it meant neither could be dismissed as a once-off. All the alarm bells of Twickenham were sounded again in the Stade de France.

Although Ireland floundered in all the basics of the game, it was again, if anything, the apparent lack of spirit which was most disappointing. As in Twickenham, and even against Italy, Ireland looked as flat as a crêpe suzette.

Maybe, in their fear of another pummelling and their desire to deliver at least a big performance, Ireland overdid things in training and left too little in the tank. But whatever about that, the spirit is missing. Where's the dog gone?

Raphael Ibanez intimated to a French journalist that the French players sensed Ireland didn't have their customary spirit from early in the game. Given the last four meetings between the countries had been titanic, toe-to-toe tussles, that must have come as quite a surprise, even allowing for France's improvement this season.

For sure France were excellent. They have a pair of props in Pieter de Villiers and Jean-Jacques Crenca who, aside from being able to pack down with the best of them, can also sprint and handle the ball with the alacrity of many a back. Fabien Pelous, the teak-tough base of this team, has played in every game of three Grand Slams.

The backrow were simply everywhere and capable of anything, and while there was criticism of Peter Stringer's performance, it's worth bearing in mind not only what he's playing behind, but also that he was playing against the best scrumhalf in the world.

Furthermore, when Fabien Galthie is not positioned at the base of a ruck, there are plenty of auxiliary scrumhalves willing and able to fill in.

The same is not true for Ireland, as was witnessed when Stringer, busy elsewhere, wasn't there after Brian O'Driscoll laid the ball back for the turnover which resulted in Galthie sniping and putting Aurelien Rougerie away for France's third, killer try.

Bernard Laporte has tortuously and ruthless applied an unheard of discipline in a French, particularly in defence, and they've now developed a potent style of play. From the outset they made it clear they would swing the ball to attacking clusters on either flank by the simple expedient of one or two huge skip passes.

Through this straightforward tactic, they required all of two minutes and 15 seconds to unhinge the Irish defence by moving the ball left, right and then left again. Though Ireland had numbers out for the third-phase attack, rather than drift out they were sucked in and Serge Betsen romped in with a hugely unnerving, two-man overlap. It was the type of try that is scored at the end of games against wilting, beaten opposition, not at the start.

One can only imagine what this did to Ireland's belief in their new defensive system. As against England, and even Italy, Ireland's defence was breached with scary regularity, from first-phase as well as loose.

The collapse of confidence rippled through the team. All told there were 18 missed tackles. Quite simply, once again the system didn't work.

Nor, once again, did the setpieces. Once Ireland lost their first lineout it was certain they'd lose the next two as well. Ultimately they were obliged to hit Gary Longwell off a short lineout, which goes against the grain of what this team has been and is still trying to achieve in tieing up the opposition pack. From then on they mostly relied on the Ulsterman for uncontested ball at the front.

Even the excuse that Ireland had been denied their captain and talisman, Keith Wood, for the first four games was rather undermined by the continuing malfunctions in the lineout, and by his all-action performance.

On Saturday, somehow, Ireland had the benefit of a near vintage Wood. Not only did he last 80 minutes, but his sheer will manufactured Ireland's only score and he was also the team's most dynamic ball carrier until Paul Wallace came on.

Keith Gleeson's cameo, coming after another undistinguished afternoon at the breakdown for David Wallace (and indeed the entire backrow), reaffirmed the impression of Twickenham especially of the need for an authentic openside.

Against France, Ireland turned over the ball at breakdown more than any game before.

The continuity has seeped out of Ireland's game, and for the type of game they're striving to play then it may be time to find another slot for Wallace's ball-carrying to accommodate Gleeson or Kieron Dawson.

In any case, the impact of Irish replacements in losing causes has to be taken with a pinch of salt, as we've seen it all before when the game has long since been lost.

By the time of their belated arrival, the Stade de France crowd had become bored with the one-sided nature of it all and were resorting to Mexican waves. This win did not give them anything like the satisfaction which the win over England did. It was too much of a bloodless coup.

Having watched David Bory struggle to open a celebratory bottle of champagne for a lot longer than it did for France to score their first try, it was put to Galthie that the bubbly had proved more obstinate than their facile win. Somewhat sheepishly, he declined to use the word facile in describing his team's win, and said Ireland had been very difficult.

But you sensed even Galthie and France seemed a little disappointed with Ireland's performance. In recent years they had come to expect better.