THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
THE TRANSATLANTIC MAGAZINE
Our Midwestern Adventuress Ann has recently been converted to English Rugby - you can read about her sporting journey here. Last weekend she went to the home of English rugby, Twickenham in South West London, to see them take on the world’s No. 1 team Ireland, and get quite the surprise. Here's what she found.
Against all odds England found themselves almost in the final of the 2023 Rugby World Cup in November, losing by a hairs breath (one point) to the Champion South African Springboks. My analysis - if they had kept the scrum on the pitch and not allowed the tiny, dyed-blond Faf de Klerk back on, the trophy could have been theirs... if they had found a way to beat the mighty All Blacks as well.
Now we find ourselves in a different scenario. The third match of the Six Nations Spring series where England (sadly once again look like finishing 5th out of 6 Northern Hemisphere teams) is tied with Italy for last place and the Irish have demolished everyone in their path. I’m about to see these two teams battle it out.
When I crossed the Atlantic, my future spouse forced me to join him on frozen winter afternoons at Twickenham. It was known as ‘Fortress Twickenham’ then as, thanks to Jonny Wilkinson (cute but deadly) and Martin Johnson (big and frightening) England rugby never lost.
But in recent years we have had to endure the unspeakable horror of losing at home there to everyone but Italy, including the Scots [four times in a row – half-Scottish ed!]
Ireland, meanwhile, under a great coach - Andy Farrell, father of former England player Owen - have been beating everyone and ranking themselves the world’s No 1 rugby team. So the only betting on England v Ireland last Saturday was on how much England would lose by.
Instead we all saw an absolute humdinger of a match, with England playing like demons and the lead coming and going until we (I am now part Brit, supposedly) won with the last kick of the game, bringing the rafters down again at Twickenham.
One of the reasons was the sudden appearance of a huge, young new British forward, George Martin, who looks and plays just like Johnson and is merely 22 years old. When picked against South Africa in the World Cup semi-final, he asked the coach who he wanted him to ‘donner’ (Springbok for beat up) and went about it with gusto, only for the coach then to take our two best scrummagers off close to full time, when we were leading!
Was this past Saturday just a flash in the pan? Not in his case, I think you’ll find. We’ll find out more shortly against France.
All weekend I have been taunting my Irish friends, which obviously is unkind. But I can’t help thinking how jubilant and awash with Guinness they would have been if we had suffered the expected thrashing. However in the final seconds, with Ireland ahead by 2 points, Marcus Smith kicked a drop goal for a 23-22 England victory!
By the way, Twickenham for the first time, had actual American style entertainment - a half time show by the hefty and extremely talented Rag n’ Bone man belting out “I’m only Human after all - don’t put the blame on me” to 90,000 thrilled fans!
A truly monumental afternoon for the entire country (of England – sorry Scotland, Wales and Ireland)!
