Fair play to England.
There I’ve said it. Never thought I would but I have. If Gordon Brown can say well done so can we, even though his response probably owes its generosity more to the fact that he’s Prime Minister than a Scotsman.
“I want to congratulate Brian Ashton, Phil Vickery and the whole England rugby team on their fantastic achievement,” said the magnanimous Brown. “This is a proud day for the country and I wish the team the best of luck for the final.”
Without wanting to assume the state of orgasmic rapture currently enjoyed by next door’s media, England deserve credit for one of the most remarkable comebacks since Lazarus kicked open his coffin. It’s only a matter of weeks since they were nilled by South Africa and made to look laughably inept by the great rugby power that is the USA. Eddie Butler, a sporting scribe whose prose is usually characterised by elegant adjectives, couldn’t even find one worthy of their early World Cup performances. “They were sh*te,” mused Eddie.
And they were. But now they’re in the World Cup final, and we – who were only moderately sh*te at the same stage as England – have been back home for ages. While All Blacks kick cars, Jonny Wilkinson kicks match- winning drop goals. While the Wallabies feel the weight of a nation’s disappointment on their shoulders, the Mighty Sheridan takes the load of the English scrum on his. And while Gareth Jenkins and Graham Henry pop down the job centre, Brian Ashton is the affable caretaker coach who suddenly has the keys to the castle.
The best teams don’t always win. The flair sides are already gone from this tournament. But there are lessons to be learned from England’s example. We may never produce a monster Saxon pack from our Celtic DNA but England’s remarkable resurrection is down to mindset as well as muscle, psychology alongside strength, belief as much as beef. They just have so much dog in them, while the most impressive example of canine passion in Wales’ World Cup campaign came from Gareth Jenkins’s poodles.
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