Chris Rattue: The kiss that launched a thousand slips

Graham Henry kisses Mils Muliaina at a press conference the day before the 22-27 loss to France in Dunedin. Photo / Otago Daily Times

The All Blacks' highly probable fate in Dunedin was sealed with a kiss.

And if the New Zealand Rugby Union isn't in too deep with favourite son Graham Henry, it should be seriously reconsidering the World Cup coaching plans after a dreadfully incompetent All Black performance that reeked of a preparation which took the opposition too lightly.

All credit to the French, as that true test warrior, Sean Fitzpatrick, might say, but the impressive, mysterious tourists didn't have to do all that much to see off a soft All Black side.

Let's wind the tape back a week or so and look at what faced new captain Mils Muliaina and his charges.

Muliaina was leading the worst All Black line-up in a major test during the professional era, and one of the weakest test combinations in New Zealand's history.

This team was so cobbled together that you could hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet, as in memories of the Baby Blacks who were called up en masse to deal with a crisis 23 years ago. All tests should call for large measures of desperation, but this one even more so.

The French are fairly regular winners over the All Blacks, and their ability to play a total game - from set piece and breakdown aggression to wonderfully timed passing movements - is a threat to any team at any time.

Unlike a number of other touring sides, such as the Irish, the French do believe they can win down here. Despite their eloquent respect for the black jersey, they don't fear it.

This fresh-faced All Black side was also having to deal with unfamiliar rules, the helter-skelter madness of Super 14 rugby having been put aside, thankfully, as rugby returns to being real rugby.

And what did we get from All Black coach Graham Henry? A smug tomfoolery in the form of a press-conference kiss on Muliaina's noggin. For the kiss, read the R-and-R disaster of 2007 and that laughable pre-World Cup holiday camp in Corsica.

For the bizarre decision to pair the blunder-kinds Ma'a Nonu and Isaia Toeava in the centres, read the atrocious decision to drop Aaron Mauger and Doug Howlett from the World Cup quarter-final team. As for Adam Thomson as a test openside ...

For the ill-fated call-up given to the out-of-condition Luke McAlister and part-time Hurricanes lock Bryn Evans, read the recall given to still-injured lock Keith Robinson at Cardiff. Henry virtually admitted that McAlister, who has had one funsy game since a knee operation four months ago, wasn't ready and still picked him.

McAlister's pass and feeble, puffing chase gave France a winning try. Evans - fresh as a daisy from the Hurricanes bench - couldn't claim a vital lineout at the death.

Having escaped the axe after the 2007 disaster - an inexplicable call unless you accept that people in high places had it in for Robbie Deans - Henry rose from the ashes last season to much acclaim. Those ashes are still smouldering, however.

The preparation in Dunedin was all wrong and reeked of the over-managed and under-prepared side which cost New Zealand dearly two years ago.

The selectors initially picked a side without proper first five-eighths cover, a risk in itself, and then claimed it would help Stephen Donald's development if he felt unthreatened. Then they picked a specialist first five-eighth - McAlister - as a late replacement and in contravention of their own just-stated theory.

Among the anonymous performers on Saturday night was Neemia Tialata, one of an enormous number of props who has been gifted a test jersey in a development policy so extensive that it once included John Schwalger.

Forgetting the half dozen or so regular, established props who have played in the front row under this regime, six others came and went and even more are on the conveyor belt this season. The end result: Neemia Tialata.

Then there is Isaia Toeava, the eternal Special Project. He is a man to inflate winning scorelines and run up the white flag in losing ones - damaged in being promoted too early by the errant All Black kingmakers.

Where was the desperation in Dunedin that paid homage to the great history of All Black rugby?

We have a right to judge the All Blacks by their public actions, because why else would we bother observing them at all? There was a concerning cosiness about that Henry kiss.

That Henry felt able to do it also suggested an over-familiarity, not with Muliaina but with the public. This, perhaps, has something to do with the soft ride he has been given after the World Cup shambles.

Henry and his cohorts just didn't seem to see this for the desperate situation that it was. Instead of planting a kiss on Muliaina, they should have handed him the No 13 jersey to shore up a weak midfield and let the livewire and in-form Cory Jane go in his proper position of fullback.

This jury has a simple verdict: the brilliance of Richie McCaw, who is always primed for battle, has been covering up the ills.

When McCaw isn't there to slow down the opposition ball and embolden his own men, the truth is exposed.

"It gives people leadership opportunity and experience ... They'll go through a learning curve, and that's what they want, that's what test matches are about," said Henry of his weakened side before the match, as if this was a corporate-bonding exercise where chubby execs turn their company's fortunes around by lurching blindfolded across a rope bridge.

Test matches are not learning experiences. They are do-or-die battles for glory, where everything is on the line. Corsica, Corsica, Corsica - it's hard to get those images out of mind.

The good news is that this jolt from Les Bleus has been delivered two years out from the World Cup. Henry, Steve Hansen and Wayne Smith have received a decent warning shot.

There was a concerning air about the way the All Blacks were sent into this battle - as if young men could be turned into fine test combatants by the wave of a selector's pen, a coach's greeting and a famous jersey.

But there is no black magic in test rugby. It is the men who made the jersey over the years, and not the other way around.