Let us weep for the death of English Rugby gemtlemen. Born in early 2003, deceased in March 2004. Let us remember this team with fondness, for though they lived such a short time, their light burnt ever so brightly.
From infancy they showed promise, for in the early months of 2003 they totally dominated the B grade competition that is the Six Nations Championship. From there they embarked on an audacious and surprisingly succesful tour of the Antipodes. The culmination of their prowess was hovwever reserved for the World Cup.
At the World Cup in November their cup runneth over (so to speak), when Johnny (ole golden boot) Wilko stunned the Aussies with a drop goal that clinched one of the greatest upsets in sporting history. Sadly though, the euphoria of this pinnacle of achievement also heralded the commencement of what was to become a descent into disease, decay, and ultmately, the demise of English rugby.
The newly crowned world champions commenced their slide in the Six Nations Championship of 2004, where narrow wins over the minnows of Wales and Italy barely papered over the enlarging cracks of decay. Hidings from Ireland and France confirmed to the world what most had already expected - English rugby was dying.
Sadly the demise was realised this very weekend, when the English fans watched their team run up the white flag. They swallowed back their urge to swing about chariots as the marauding All Blacks picked apart the shattered carcass of this once proud Rugby Nation.
A minute's silence gentlemen in respect of the fallen. They shall not grow ald as we who are let grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and at dawn, we shall remember them.
