TV View: As Jonathan Davies put it at full-time at Twickenham yesterday, "the French are jubilated". They certainly were, their mood contrasting somewhat dramatically with the post-match atmosphere in the BBC studio, which was positively funereal. Or, more accurately, negatively funereal.
"How on earth did England lose that?" an ashen-faced Steve Rider asked Martin Johnson and Jeremy Guscott, whose facial expressions read: "Oh. Mon. Dieu".
Davies, sitting beside them, tried to look shocked and disappointed, but he failed. His Welsh face was visibly 'jubilated', in an exceptionally amused kind of way. He beamed solemnly while the England old boys tried to be kind, but there really was no way of avoiding saying it: Olly Barkley and Charlie Hodgson are many things, but Jonny Wilkinson isn't one of them. But, in fairness, apart from Jonny Wilkinson, not many people are Jonny Wilkinson, if you know what we mean, like.
"It begs the question: when is Jonny Wilkinson coming back?" asked Guscott, hinting he felt Olly and Charlie's combined total of six missed penalties (and Charlie's late attempted drop goal that landed in or around the Giant's Causeway) might have had some bearing on the outcome of the match, in which England were hammered by a point.
Over on RTÉ Tom McGurk was asking George Hook if England's kicking coach should be taken behind the pavilion and shot. George, perhaps thinking this proposed punishment was a touch excessive, said "no", because, he insisted, kicking is mainly a mental thing, so the coach couldn't be blamed for Olly and Charlie's shortcomings in that department.
It was around this point a worrying punditry trend began to develop. Already co-commentator Ralph Keyes, as he bid adieu from Twickenham, declared that "Ireland will not hold any fears facing England in two weeks' time". And, by then (Saturday, to be exact), McGurk had labelled England's selection of number 10s as "plonkers".
"I think that's harsh," replied Conor O'Shea, who heroically tried all weekend, but largely failed, to convince anyone who would listen that, despite their recent setbacks, England could not yet be categorised as 'minnows' of world rugby and, so, should still be regarded as potentially tricky opponents at Lansdowne Road in a fortnight.
No one was having it, though. Except George, who admonished Tom for counting his England-beating chickens before they'd even been conceived.
True, the wheels might have come off the chariot but you know what they say about wounded lions: when they get their teeth into gazelles there's no freeing them. The gazelles, that is, not the teeth.
Speaking of gazelles. Malcolm O'Kelly. Or is he the wildebeest of Irish rugby? No matter, it was a run-of-the-mill day for the Big Fella at Murrayfield, apart from becoming Ireland's most-capped player, scoring a try and being named man-of-the-match.
Tracy Piggott finally got a taste of what life must be like for her Da's old pal Willie Carson after the match when she interviewed Malcolm's navel. Where are stepladders when you most need them?
To honour the day that was in it George thought it was time to pay tribute to O'Kelly, so proceeded to recall his worst moments in an Irish and Lions' jersey. "I think it was two years ago in Murrayfield that O'Kelly had probably one of his worst ever games against Scotland . . . and also he had an awful Lions Tour in 2001 when he wasn't considered after a week," he said. Brent Pope, sitting to the left of Irish rugby's Victor Meldrew, studied the ceiling, and reminded himself never to invite George to give the eulogy at his funeral. ("Popie was a grand fella, apart from the time he . . .")
Ireland, of course, won, rather handsomely, but the panel still wasn't entirely happy. "It's a sign of the times that we're not euphoric after scoring 40 points in Edinburgh," said George, who complimented the Scottish effort by noting their pack had the "hitting power of wet Kleenex".
So, Ireland scored 40 points in Murrayfield but we were a bit disappointed with the performance. These are, indeed, changed sporting times. As snooker cue master Paul Hunter proved to us yesterday when he was interviewed, with his wife, on the BBC before his Masters' match against Steve Davis.
Paul and Lynsey, the Posh and Becks of snooker, felt the need to share with us the intimate, robust details of their, well, intimate life. "We're just very highly sexual people," explained Paul, in his deepest darkest Yorkshire accent.
Just got us thinking. Eddie Charlton would never have told Pot Black about what he got up to 'off the table'. Trust us, if you'd asked him he'd have been far from jubilated.
