It’s a blessing that England didn’t make the rugby World Cup final

In the days when Spitting Image was funny it featured a song called ‘I’ve Never Met A Nice South African’. In fairness it was in 1986, long before the end of apartheid, though the sentiments would have chimed with the feelings of most English sports fans at the weekend. In the end South Africa was the story: pitted against England on the same day, in two different sports, in two World Cups, resulting in two defeats for England – but two very different post-match emotions.

The rugby semi-final felt almost triumphant: okay, so England lost, but what a stirring, intense, physical battle. It was not a game, however, to illustrate the spectacular pleasures of fast-flowing rugby. England kicked away 93 per cent of their possession, and managed to spend something like 73 seconds in the South African 22. It was the sporting equivalent of the Battle of Kursk: vast slow-moving protagonists beating the hell out of each other before, eventually, the favourite emerges as the winner.