And no one was hotter than wee Frédéric Michalak. The fly–half had orchestrated what Brian O’Driscoll described as the “obliteration” of Ireland, kicking 23 points to take his tournament tally into three figures. On the day of the 2003 semi–final, the front page of L’Equipe was adorned with photos of Michalak and Wilkinson. The French sports daily had no doubt who would carry the day – their Freddie, the 21–year–old with a talent ‘hors norme’ [extraordinary]

A day later and the front page of L’Equipe told a different story. France’s dreams had drowned in the rain of Sydney, the 24–7 English victory “magnificently driven” by Wilkinson. As for Michalak, he’d looked “bewildered” for most of the semi–final before being replaced on the hour mark.

Michalak wasn’t the only Frenchman who played badly but he became the face of France’s fragility, and in a sense it’s a role he continues to play. The beautiful young man (his looks turned him into a gay icon) has matured into a balding, bearded, slightly round–shouldered 32 year–old but the temperament remains unpredictable.

In last season’s Champions Cup semi against Leinster, Michalak had what can only be described as a shocker. Toulon coach Bernard Laporte – the same man who was in charge of France in 2003 – hauled him off seven minutes into the second–half. It was the right decision but one that allegedly sent Michalak wild when he reached the privacy of the dressing room.

But therein lies the key to getting the best out of Michalak. The excitable Bernard Laporte is a brilliant coach but he’s not perhaps the most gentle of characters; Philippe Saint–Andre is less confrontational and he appears better able to coax the best out of his fly–half. The France coach has made it clear that Michalak is his first–choice and investing such faith is astute. “It helps Freddy that Saint–Andre believes in him so much and what he needs to do is give him the security and the confidence to play his best rugby,” explains Nick Kennedy, like Michalak a member of the Toulon side that won the 2013 Champions Cup.

Now coaching London Irish, Kennedy believes Michalak is France’s key player. “How he handles the pressure will determine their World Cup,” he says. “He’s typically French in that he can get quite emotional. He’s fantastic if things are going well – he has great pace, he’s a wonderful passer, has a sharp step and no other French 10 sees space as quickly as Fred does. But if things start going wrong he can quickly lose his head and then it can be one error after another.”

It’s not only the Anglophone world who struggle to work out Michalak. Even the French find him puzzling. Last month Midi Olympique, the French rugby newspaper, devoted two pages to the ‘Eternelle Énigme’ that is their fly–half. It roll–called the high points – including his precocious Test debut in 2001 aged 19, his Grand Slam in 2004 and his brilliant display in inspiring France to a 33–6 thrashing of Australia in 2012 – but it also referenced the lows. There have been a few, including a well–publicised spat with Laporte during the 2007 World Cup and his “wilderness years” under Marc Lievremont (Laporte’s successor), an unimaginative and dogmatic coach who hadn’t a clue how to handle him.

It was during that period that Michalak took himself off to South Africa, helping Natal Sharks win the Currie Cup in 2008 and returning to France with an Australian wife and an English vocabulary.

“To the English–speaking players at Toulon he is very friendly and helpful,” says Kennedy. “He’s an incredibly nice guy and not in the slightest bit arrogant.”

But as Kennedy says, he is typically French. In the 2007 World Cup Michalak came on as a second–half substitute in the quarter–final against New Zealand and it was his darting break that led to the match–winning try. France celebrated as if they’d already one hand on the Webb Ellis Cup.

The squad was treated to a night at the Folies Bergère, the famous cabaret show in Paris, and France gave the impression the impending semi–final against England was a mere formality before the serious business of contesting the final.

England won the semi–final, the boot of Wilkinson inflicting yet another painful blow for France, a nation that seems incapable of going the distance at the World Cup. Three times they’ve reached the final (1987, 1999 and 2011) and each time they’ve lost. Why? What is it in the Gallic psyche that makes them incapable of stringing together the three big performances a country needs to triumph in the knock–out phase of the World Cup?

In the ’87 semi–final the French beat Australia 30–24 in what many consider the greatest encounter in World Cup history. A week later they slumped to a 29–9 defeat to New Zealand. In the 1999 semi–final the All-Blacks were destroyed in the second–half as France staged an extraordinary comeback, overturning a 24–10 deficit to win 43–31. Six days later France were crushed 35–12 by the Wallabies in a horribly one–sided final.

When I interviewed Rapahel Ibanez a couple of years after the 2003 semi–final defeat, the then France hooker told me that “we weren’t right mentally the moment we saw the conditions”. The heavy rain created doubt in French minds and the match was already lost before the teams ran out.

Ibanez added that France had to find “mental consistency” if they wanted to win the World Cup, but a decade on they’re still searching.

The former Toulon flanker of the 1970s turned rugby writer, Daniel Herrero, has another theory for this curious inconsistency. France, he wrote, in the aftermath of the 1999 World Cup, are at their most dangerous when they believe they have nothing left to lose, what he called the “energy of survival”. It was what got them to the 1987 and 1999 World Cup finals, and past New Zealand in the 2007 quarter–final. When they aren’t engaged in a fight for survival, when they are favourites, they can often lose their focus.

“The energy of conquest,” wrote Herrero,... “is born from pugnacious hard work, methodical assimilation and mature experience.” These traits don’t come naturally to most French, and it’s the reason they are in awe of the two Jonnies – Wilkinson and Sexton.

It was always Saint–Andre’s intention to make France more ‘Anglo–Saxon’ in their philosophy and style, and for most of his four years he’s failed. But in beating England 25–20 at the Stade de France last month France did so with a very ‘English’ performance, one constructed on set–piece dominance and punishing their opponent’s indiscipline with penalty kicks.

Can France carry this into the World Cup? The draw has been kind to them, and they should win their first three pool matches against Italy, Romania and Canada. The momentum will then be with them when they face Ireland on October 11, and they have the pack to physically subdue Ireland’s.

But mentally? Well, that’s the thing with the French, we’ll only find out on the day.