I am not the world's biggest rugby fan.
This possibly may have something to do with having sustained two broken ribs playing in my first ever game. Aged 13 and new to the school, I was placed at hooker by the games master who suggested that my 'excellent football skills' meant I would be 'useful with my feet' in the scrum. Well he was not wrong. At one of the early scrums, I adeptly hooked the ball back to our Number 8 against the head*. In the ensuing melée, I suddenly received a sharp blow to the chest area from the boot and/or fist and/or elbow of a rather annoyed (and much larger than me) member of the opposition front row. Unable to breathe, I collapsed in a heap and was carted off to the Sanitorium (yes, it was quite a posh school...) where I was tended to by the matronly, er, Matron and subsequently packed off to York General Hospital for X-rays.
Broken ribs are horrible. You can't laugh, cough or breathe properly**. They just 'need time to heal'. So that got me off games for about 6 weeks, during which time I started to learn the saxophone and decided to form a band.
But that's another story. The main reason for this post is the scoreline England 12-10 Australia in the quarter-finals of the Rugby World Cup this afternoon; a bit of an upset, if truth be told, given that the Wallabies were clear favourites for the tournament. So jolly well done, chaps. Splendid result. No reason why you can't go on and repeat the heroics of 2003...
...just don't, in your desperation for non-injured, even half-fit, partly-English players, ask me to come in at hooker :)
* winning the ball on the opposition put-in at a scrum, in case you were wondering.
** oh, I forgot sneezing; that's the worst. 'Atchooooooooooooooofuckthathurts'.