Following in father's footsteps ... but for how long?

CAST your minds back, those of you who are sufficiently long in the tooth, to Melbourne in late October 2003.

- CHRIS HELJETT

What do you remember of the World Cup pool match between England, who would go on to lift the trophy, and Samoa, who, for all the exuberance of their rugby, would soon be queuing at check-in for an early flight back to the islands?

You might recall that Clive Woodward’s team managed to play part of the game – a very small part, admittedly, but the fact remains – with 16 men on the field and copped a £10,000 fine for their trouble, much to the frustration of an Australian press corps who wanted to see the pre-tournament favourites eliminated from the tournament, trucked into the outback and fed to the dingoes.

If a second incident appears in your mind’s eye at a distance of 20odd years, it is probably the hilarious outbreak of touchline slapstick between Dave Reddin, the England fitness coach who knew everything about conditioning, and Steve Walsh, the perfectly coiffeured fourth official who knew a similar amount about conditioner.

Of course, if justice played a significant part in top-level sport – which it never has done and never will – we would be talking about one moment and one only: the wondrous try scored by Semo Sititi, the Samoa captain, after a cover-the-waterfront handling move that went through 35 pairs of hands. Sadly, the merely sublime is rarely a match for the utterly ridiculous when it comes to headlines.