There was a point where I nearly didn’t go to the 2011 World Cup at all. My new job as the RFU's professional rugby director still hadn’t been signed off and, as my existing responsibilities did not cover the England team, I was tempted to stick two fingers up to the union and watch the World Cup from the safety of my lounge on the basis that if things went pear-shaped, I would be well out of it.

As news was already beginning to emerge about certain England players winding down from the narrow victory over Argentina in the opening game by going ‘on the lash’ in Queenstown - and making complete fools of themselves in a late-night bar - there did not appear to be much of an ‘if’ about it. All the same, I listened to my better angel and made the trip to New Zealand.

By the time I arrived, the team were back in Dunedin ahead of the pool fixture with Georgia. The first thing I saw on entering the hotel was Martin Johnson and Tom Stokes, the team operations manager, in earnest conversation in a corner of the lobby. It was one of those ‘Oh Christ, what’s gone wrong?’ moments: a sixth sense told me that this was not good.