The voice is steady, the tone firm, the accent intact. Thousands of kilometres from France, Vincent Moscato is running away from neither reality nor his responsibilities. Stranded in Dubai because of the conflict engulfing the Middle East, the former France international is waiting it out, like thousands of other travellers stuck in an aviation crossroads that has become a zone of uncertainty.

For several days now, the war has turned the region upside down. Strikes and reprisals have led to the cancellation or disruption of many flights, leaving passengers with no immediate solution. In Dubai, some accounts describe explosions heard in the distance and travellers confined to their hotels, hanging on military and diplomatic decisions.

In that tense context, Moscato chose to speak out in a video posted on social media. No frills, no staging. “This morning we heard a few blasts. This morning it was hitting hard, he says, in rugby speak, entirely in character. We don’t know when we’re going to get home. We’re not asking the government for anything. We’re here, we’ll be fine, we’ll get home just fine. We can’t complain, out of respect for the Lebanese and Iranian peoples” (who are taking the bombs).

Rugged clear-sightedness

No complaints, no call for dramatics. Just a form of rugged clear-sightedness, almost familiar to those who knew the combative hooker of the great years. As in a dressing room under pressure, Moscato goes for calm and solidarity.

But his message also contains an outburst. Because from Dubai he has been watching how the situation is being covered in the media and online, and he refuses to let it be exploited. “To all the “bedwetters”, the influencers who want to make drama out of it, what a bunch of clowns, you’re a disgrace to us, a disgrace to France!“

“To all the “bedwetters”, the influencers who want to make drama out of it, what a bunch of clowns, you’re a disgrace to us, a disgrace to France!“

The line lands with all the force of a hit in the scrum. For Moscato, war is neither a show nor a way of driving audience figures. It calls for restraint and dignity. A code of conduct inherited from rugby, where you learn that the hardest situations are got through in silence, without needless posturing. “They didn’t sleep all night? Well they can get stuffed, we couldn’t care less about them!, he added, head-on. Go and sell your toothpaste or your rubbish.”

On the ground, life swings between normality and simmering tension. The infrastructure is holding up, but uncertainty rules. Like many others, Moscato is waiting for air links to reopen for good so he can get back to France. Moscato again: “We’re going to get home without asking anyone for anything, without the government.” Before signing off, entirely in character: “Love to you all, you bunch of trumpets.“