The final was decorated by the conscious competence of an outstanding New Zealand team - Ma'a Nonu's clinching try summing up beautifully the muscular possibilities of great rugby. Their 20011 win was sketchy (ditching twenty-four years of emotional baggage?) but this time they emerged utterly triumphant and must be praised. They beat each of the next three best teams in the competition (Australia, Argentina, South Africa) on their journey. Simply brilliant.
As for England, well as organisers we put on a great show - the full grounds bounced with energy,and the play was often compelling. As competitors we were abject. My view on this has hardened with the passage of time. Unprofessional and inexcusable. Heads should roll, not merely Lancaster but those around him and the clowns who appointed him. Don't hold your breath. As if to pollute yet further the air of decay we now have the stench of the tragi-comic end to the Burgess Experiment. After twenty-six games of Union Sam Burgess heads back to antipodean League with his tail between his legs and those who supervised the whole benighted project looking even more stupid than before, as if that were possible. Hey ho, it's only a game - in response to which inanity Ray Prosser used cannily to explete 'In that case what the f*** do we have points for?'
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