Pinch us, shake us, blast us with cold water, or else we won’t believe it.


And we were there. They made it. The team from nowhere is in the final, they damned well deserve to be and as long as superhuman heroism is something you can produce back to back, they can bring the Webb Ellis Cup back again. I have seen it all, I have seen everything. I would not dream of suggesting that they cannot beat either South Africa or Argentina. Of course they can.

Mike Catt gives Wilkinson a manly pat on the arse - Ed.

The scenes of English hysteria and French devastation at the end were incredible and once again, and even though he was not in majestic form with his all-round game, it was the talismanic, galvanic Jonny Wilkinson which saw them home in a sensational last 10 minutes. They had been battered by a long and threatening French siege, they trailed by a point for an endless period and saved themselves only when a sensational, diving ankle-tap from Joe Worsley cut down Vincent Clerc when the Frenchman was on his way to the critical try.


Gradually, England dragged themselves back upfield. They found energy from somewhere, from deep where energy springs not from fitness and training, but from the soul. Simon Shaw, Matt Stevens, and the supercharged late entrant, Worsley, began to drive the ball up. Jason Robinson, whose breathtaking, error-free excellence in this event challenges description, made another telling run and Dimitri Szarzewski, the replacement French hooker, took him high. Wilkinson kicked the penalty and with five minutes left, England were ahead.

Follow up:

France attacked in desperation, But their talismans were struggling. Frederic Michalak came on to ritual celebrations but could conjure nothing. Sebastien Chabal was dumped by a tackle from Stevens, and then by the unlikely duo of Toby Flood and Paul Sackey. The tide was turning. England came on; they drove till Wilkinson was in the perfect position for the drop goal. He duly delivered the perfect kick – and how did any watching Kiwis feel about their so-called fantastic side that cannot win, compared to the England side that, by hook and by crook and sheer courage, did so. They closed out the last two minutes. Unforgettable.


It was not, in essence, a great match, but as agonised entertainment, it was sensational. England did not quite have the cutting power in midfield to break clean away from France, until Dan Hipkiss came on in the second half. Their lineout was wonky, and tactically, they meandered a little, spreading the ball wide too readily. But these are technical matters. Irrelevancies. They kept on coming, kept on tackling. They kept on being, well, English. God bless the battered, joyous lot of them.


Are we to feel for the French? For the nation and the supporters, yes. We took their Olympics, we have taken from them their World Cup.


They will be hurting. But their tournament has been wonderful, a raging success and for that, we feel for them. But for the French team, it is hard to cry. They have been an odd lot, they tend to play within themselves, to grind and not to speculate. Their superior lineout and the greater size and energy of their backs gave them a magnificent chance to blast into the final. They sat back. They absorbed. There was something a little smug, a little posed, about them. Repent at leisure.


England’s start had been sensational. The splendid Andy Gomarsall chipped over a ruck to the French corner, Damien Traille was posthumously slow in killing the bouncing ball and Josh Lewsey came up, snaffled it and hammered through Traille’s tackle to score. Two penalties by Lionel Beauxis had France ahead by half-time.

Sebastian Chabal - Devastated

There was almost a thunderously telling moment shortly after France’s first successful penalty. David Marty was charged down and an enthusiastic chase from Mark Regan forced a 5m scrum. England were motoring forward for what would have been a pushover try but Easter lost control of the ball at the key moment, and the chance was lost. Although the French scrum was always retreating in the face of Andrew Sheridan and company, the French lineout was a saviour and England tended to spray the ball wide before the forwards had done their battering best. At half-time, and at 6-5, it was, just, advantage France.


There had been key replacements in the first half, too. Fabien Pelous, a French giant, had to be replaced. The monstrous Chabal arrived, but earlier than his coach may have wanted. Lewsey damaged a leg and Hipkiss arrived. In fact, it was advantage England here, because Hipkiss, slotting into midfield as Tait moved to the wing, was to give England a more meaty midfield.


There were welcome signs that England were switching to a power game when they brought both Lewis Moody and Shaw up the middle in their first attack of the second half but Hipkiss had to go back to make a terrific save after the ball had gone loose at the back of an England ruck. Then France were given a penalty when a ludicrous decision by the referee against Easter saw Beauxis make it 9-5. France had simply dropped the ball in the ruck.


But England shook themselves into life with a major attack, after Moody had charged down a kick by Yannick Jauzion. Hipkiss handled twice in a likely move and when France killed the play, Wilkinson kicked a goal to cut the gap to 9-8.


Around the 50th minute, France made their traditional gamebreaking substitutions, but Michalak’s first two kicks were dreadful. As the final quarter approached, the match stepped up again in intensity and pace. Wilkinson dropped for goal to try to put England in the lead but the ball bounced back off the post. In the same passage of play, a brilliant run by Robinson into space beat all but the last defender.


And the final quarter was only for players with nerves of steel. A kick from Jauzion was batted back into play by Julien Bonnaire, and Clerc seized it on his way to glory. Then Worsley felled him with the ankle tap. France drove with menace. They controlled territory. But the England castle stood proudly. It was still standing as they launched their late, stunning, delicious revival and as Wilkinson kicked them deftly home. Incroyable? Nope. Just our Jonny and our England.


Star man: Jonny Wilkinson (England)


France: D Traille (Biarritz); V Clerc (Toulouse), D Marty (Perpignan), Y Jauzion (Toulouse), C Heymans (Toulouse, C Dominici (Stade Français) 61min); L Beauxis (Stade Français, F Michalak (Toulouse) 51min), J-B Elissalde (Toulouse); O Milloud (Bourgoin), R Ibanez (capt, Wasps, D Szarzewski (Stade Français) 51min), P de Villiers (Stade Français, J-B Poux (Toulouse) 66min), F Pelous (Toulouse, S Chabal (Sale) 25min), J Thion (Biarritz), S Betsen (Biarritz, I Harinordoquy (Biarritz) 67min), J Bonnaire (Bourgoin), T Dusautoir (Toulouse).


England: J Robinson (unattached); P Sackey (Wasps), M Tait (Newcastle), M Catt (London Irish, T Flood (Newcastle) 69min), J Lewsey (Wasps, D Hipkiss (Leicester) 39min); J Wilkinson (Newcastle), A Gomarsall (Harlequins, P Richards (London Irish) 71min); A Sheridan (Sale), M Regan (Bristol, G Chuter (Leicester) 66min), P Vickery (capt, Wasps, M Stevens (Bath) 56min), S Shaw (Wasps), B Kay (Leicester), M Corry (Leicester), N Easter (Harlequins, L Dallaglio (Wasps) 70min), L Moody (Leicester, J Worsley (Wasps) 54min).


Source: Times Online