There are evenings when rugby stops being a sport and becomes a story — or rather a recital. The one Toulouse wrote last night, grinding La Rochelle down under an avalanche of tries (60-14), belongs in that category. A runaway scoreline, defenders adrift and a La Rochelle side completely overwhelmed: Stade Toulousain gave the impression of operating in another time dimension, while everyone else is still chasing the game.

A matter of symptoms?

“I feel as though we’re playing different sports. Well done to Toulouse for their timing, their precision, their aggression. It’s a top performance from a top team. Maybe the best club side in the world, said La Rochelle manager Ronan O’Gara. We’re not even close to them. This is a team that plays with speed, precision, confidence and enjoyment. When I watch Toulouse on television, I feel as though they always play like that.“

The specialists are adamant: this performance is not an accident but a symptom. Toulouse are purring, once again this season, fuelled by an almost insolent attacking culture, a heritage embraced and modernised. The ball lives, it circulates (despite a few errors). The collective absorbs absences, transcends individuals and imposes a tempo nobody seems able to follow for long. At this stage, the question is no longer really whether Toulouse will be in the final, but who will dare to take them on there.

On the Canal panel this Sunday 28 December, Sébastien Chabal was just as categorical: “Right now, I can’t see who’s invited. In this Toulouse team there is too much talent, too much good momentum, too much of everything. I almost want to ask: who is going to go and take a hiding in the final against Stade Toulousain?“

And yet, under the harsh light of these demonstrations, a fault line remains. Recent Top 14 history teaches us as much: perfect seasons do not exist. Fatigue, injuries and mental wear are always prowling. Even empires wobble, sometimes at the worst possible moment. Toulouse know it better than anyone: winning before June protects you from nothing.

So Stade Toulousain march on, sure of their strength but condemned to clear-sightedness. An ogre to some, a tightrope walker to others, the Pink City are walking a wire strung between domination and vertigo. And perhaps that is where the beauty of this Top 14 lies: in the feverish wait for the day when the invincible will, at last, have to reinvent themselves.