It’s the hope that kills you. Who would be an England fan with those butterfly-stomach swoops and hollows, that crushing deflation after joyous, if brief, highs? England followers will need to go into rehab at this rate to cure their addiction to such extremes of emotion. Never mind walking into work on Monday with a spring in their step as Steve Borthwick pledged they would be doing. F S Lowry trudge more like, head down, feet shuffling, trying to make sense of it all, not daring to look up and see what’s coming next. (Spoiler Alert – it’s France, barely out of second gear to put 43 points on Wales with Dupont in his pomp).
If only, eh? If only the Ireland match had lasted 80 seconds and not 80 minutes for England had looked sharp, clever and decisive with their short kick-off routine. If only they could have gone straight to the pub at half-time to celebrate their deserved 10-5 half-time lead. If only Ben O’Keeffe had cut them some slack on this or that decision (fat chance). If only England had more caps on their bench (509-81 in Ireland’s favour). If only they were a Dad’s Army like Ireland and not fresh-faced, energy-charged youngsters. Experience Rules (except it doesn’t necessarily. Legs and lungs go.) If only they were drawn from four provinces and not ten clubs (doesn’t seem to do France that much harm or South Africa whose players are all over the planet, Argentina likewise. Or, whisper it, England in 2003 when we were told that fighting tooth and nail for titles or to avoid relegation steeled players for tight contests). And on and on we go. A litany of scenarios. A plague of excuses.
It’s about time England started shaping their own narrative and got the job done. From crowing cockerel to feather duster in one fell swoop of a match. If this had been Game One of Year One of Steve Borthwick’s tenure then there might be less criticism of yet another England second-half collapse. But it’s not. It’s Borthwick 3.0, the third iteration following the World Cup cobbled-together, strip-it-back-to-basics number followed by last year’s Jamie George more upbeat vibe. Borthwick is 26 months into the job and has only a 50% success rate. If he’s to be allowed to learn on the job he’ll be drawing his pension by the time he’s cracked it.
And yet there is always a sliver of a chance, always a distant glimpse of a silver lining, a pathway through the cloud. There has to be, doesn’t there? Daunting a prospect as France coming to Twickenham might appear, with shades of the 53-10 drubbing two years ago in mind, it’s the best arrangement that England could hope for. It’s a free hit. No-one truly expects them to win even if it is a possibility. How long is it since we used to reach for the stereotype and wonder which France might turn up – the fabulous, fancy flair lot or the feckless mob with their meltdown mindsets? Now we say the same about England within the same match. Is the England of the first half, all roar and rage, hungry and productive at the breakdown, hounding Ireland to distraction. Or is it England after the break, passive, out-of-puff and out-of-ideas? Is Steve Borthwick Dr Jekyll, a master of mid-match transformation? Here comes the England bench, Mr Hyde. Whatever they do in the changing-rooms at half-time it isn’t working. Perhaps they should just stay on the pitch, suck an orange and hope that Erica Roe might run past again.
Is this to be a Mathew Tait moment for Murley, dumped after one cap for a public howler as the Newcastle centre was in 2005 after his one-sided encounter with Gavin Henson? Big call for Borthwick.
Borthwick did press so many right buttons last week that it is going to be difficult to replicate that self-same mood music. There was openness about his approach, a real desire to say the right things for probably the first time of his time in charge, being honest and out-front. There was risk in his back-row selection but he was bold enough to acknowledge that. (Tom Willis for Ben Earl next week, anyone?) Borthwick fronted up. He skipped the anticipated selection on the wing and gave Cadan Murley, his debut. It looked to have been a master-stroke after nine minutes when a smart build-up through Marcus Smith, Ollie Lawrence and Henry Slade paved the way to instant glory for the Harlequin. What the Lord giveth in sport, he is quick to take away. So it proved with Murley’s double brain-fades in the second-half, inexcusable defensive lapses. Is this to be a Mathew Tait moment for Murley, dumped after one cap for a public howler as the Newcastle centre was in 2005 after his one-sided encounter with Gavin Henson? Big call for Borthwick.
In many ways, he has to stick to his guns. There was plenty of good in that opening half, plenty. But there was also plenty of evidence of grievous fault lines in the second-half performance, deep fissures that won’t be easily repaired. What, for instance, to do with the replacement bench. Why weren’t Theo Dan, Chandler Cunningham-South and Fin Smith able to do what Dan Sheehan, Jack Conan and Jack Crowley did for Ireland? It was a chalk and cheese contrast as far as the subs were concerned. One lot brought dynamism and potency, the other had sporadic moments but nothing sustained or joined-up.
It beggars belief that England might not be as well-conditioned as the opposition. How can that be? Conditioning is such a tangible thing, measurable on so many metrics, that it should be a straightforward fix. Of course Ireland are well-rested, molly-coddled by their system. Pull the other one. That line of argument is such tosh. See above. I give you again, France, South Africa and Argentina. How do they manage to overcame the various, so-called obstacles?
Alex Mitchell looked as if he had been laid-up on the sidelines for a few weeks which is exactly how it is. His missed tackle on James Lowe – not the easiest beast to snare to be fair – will cause him restless nights.
Borthwick was hindered by unavailability and injury but who isn’t? Gregor Townsend won’t be bemoaning his lot when Scotland head south in a few weeks’ time looking to make it five Calcutta Cups in a row. George Furbank at the rear was missed. Freddie Steward played as Freddie Steward does: formidable under the high ball but with all the slick turning speed of a freight tanker when it came to presenting a sharp-heeled last line of defence as Jamison Gibson-Park came his way.
Alex Mitchell looked as if he had been laid-up on the sidelines for a few weeks which is exactly how it is. His missed tackle on James Lowe – not the easiest beast to snare to be fair – will cause him restless nights.
Curiously, England’s defence was a more robust and trustworthy-looking system than it had been in the blitz-crazed autumn. And yet England were busted too often for any comfort whatsoever. France’s Louis Bielle-Biarrey and Scotland’s fast-twitch magician, Darcy Graham, will have taken note.
For all that, Borthwick does not have to indulge in snake-oil confected nonsense in order to be able to Accentuate the Positive etc as Bing Crosby once crooned. The Curry twins were outstanding, Maro Itoje too. His captaincy skills will be much-needed over the next few days. The set-piece functioned as did the maligned centre pairing. Ollie Lawrence played as he does for Bath, with purpose and impact.
So, yes, there is hope. But we know what that can do to you.
