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Australia’s rugby record against England starkly confutes the notion that ability is a simple function of resources. England has over 700,000 rugby players; Australia has fewer than 70,000. Yet, more often than not, we flog the place on the field. Of the 33 Tests decided over the last 100 years, the Wallabies have won 20. Despite a playing pool 10 times our size, England’s First 15 hasn’t been much more than half as good as the Wallabies.
Along with everyone else in the rugby world, bar those poor unfortunates who actually live in the place where the sun don’t shine, I expect the Wallaby victory roll to reach 21 on Saturday night. The dangers are the English scrum, Jonny Wilkinson’s boot and the Pommie propensity to go the niggle. If the Poms are good for anything at all, they’ll give us a fair measure of how far our scrum has come since that dark day when we fell apart at Twickenham in November 2005. We’re also likely to get an idea of the tactics Knuckles has dreamed up to counter the field goal, which will be just as vital against the Springboks, should we manage to go all the way.
To see Australia crush England into the French dust would be a joy to behold. Such a result is not beyond the realm of possibilites. But, as hopeless as they have been in the pool games, I don’t expect the reigning World Champions to bow out without a decent fight. Nor do I think a walloping is necessarily the World Cup winning way for the Wallabies. Remember 1999 dear fans. Gradually, Australia lifted through the tournament, rising to the challenge of each match, but rising no further than necessary. I’ll be happy, so long as we’re not on the plane home Sunday.
Go the Wallabies!
Update: Some great rugby reading in today’s paper. Wayne Smith has a pearler of an overview (Knuckles is doing a star turn – if the Wallabies win the Cup, he should start his own tv show). Mark Ella is spot on, as usual, with a perfect summary of the form so far. And then there is this strange one from Simon Barnes, an Englishman who climbs up on his high-horse to declare that he is not “neo-colonial, possessed of a born-to-rule mentality, a racial supremacist, a little Englander, a snooty bastard, an avoider of baths, an oppressor, a cultural elitist, a snob … a racist, Pope Hadrian IV, a Black and Tan, Oliver Cromwell, the Duke of Cumberland, an anti-Catholic, an anti-Protestant, Edward I, a silencer of Celtic languages”. He concludes that the “England-hating O’Neill is (a) pathetic, (b) a bigot and (c) locked in the past,” therein disclosing that he has missed the bleeding obvious, which is that John O’Neil is a headline hunter and Simon Barnes’ scalp is now in his trophy bag. Go the Wallabies!
Update: I wish I could say that the better team lost. Or that we wuz robbed. Or that they were lucky. I wish I could say anything at all, except the dreaded truth, which is that England outplayed Australia. Even worse, the 12-10 result doesn’t reflect how much better the Poms played. Hats off to their forwards in particular, who dominated, not so much in the scrum, where we sort of hung on, but at the breakdown, in a way that I would have never believed possible. So comprehensively did they throw the Wallabies off their game, it seemed as though they had an extra player, or two or three, on the field. Well done and deserved England. Four more years of gloating Pommies. Oh, the pain, the pain. It’s only a game, right? Oh, the pain …

