It is increasingly difficult to detect morality in modern football.
But what the Nantes people achieved by lifting the 4th Coupe de France in their history is still a great story with lots of good feelings in it.
Eleven months ago, the same men went to the end of the roadblocks to save their place in L1.
And there they are, happy and twirling with joy in Saint-Denis.
Proving that we can also repair a team without a checkbook, or without changing coaches.
By the sheer force of their desire and the humility transmitted by Antoine Kombouaré, the Nantes team was repaired.
All in the head, nothing in the pockets.
It rarely pays.
But when it's the case like for this final, how beautiful.
And sorry in advance to the Parisian supporters but a Coupe de France final without PSG is good too.
We had long forgotten the perfume of these balanced, tense, bitter oppositions where the mad hope then the great thrill graze, in turn, the spine of the supporters in a few moments.
In recent years, the vast domination of Paris in the game and, by extension, in the prize list, made the matches all identical.
Technically beautiful but one-sided.
This time, the 105th final was different.
Already by the beautiful atmosphere in the stands: we have more sense of the party when we are not sure to return anytime soon.
With Paris, it was an annual pilgrimage.
With the people of Nantes and Nice, it was a joyful discovery.
And on the lawn, Kombouaré's men got in tune with their supporters.
They were predicted a cautious, defensive and monotonous tactic on the pretext that Nice, on paper, was superior.
On the contrary, the people of Nantes accepted the entry fight.
Not always fair in the last gesture, not always elegant in the races but each time combative, determined, stubborn.
Old-fashioned football where the beautiful and the superfluous come after the efficient.
And it made for a great final for the football fans down there.
The one where we run around thinking that we will do the accounts later.
Opposite, the people of Nice looked surprised for a long time before recovering.
Their technically finest element, Amine Gouiri tried his luck twice in the first period but a missed control (8th),
then a shot blocked (29th) prevented him from really worrying Alban Lafont.
Opposite, the Nice goalkeeper, Marcin Bulka, who definitely did well to leave PSG on loan last summer, also intervened twice and always against the same man, Ludovic Blas (13th) and (28th).
But after the break, the referee of the final, Stéphanie Frappart only takes fifteen seconds to really unleash the match by whistling a severe hand from Boudaoui on a cross from Merlin.
One could quibble for hours over whether the severity is unfair or intractable.
But Ludovic Blas did not do philosophy but football as his main subject and opened the scoring without asking any existential questions (0-1, 46th).
And the dramaturgy has gone up a notch.
Logically Nice pushes, but Lafont takes out a huge parade in front of Delort (71st).
The Nice dream has passed.
