At first glance it was a low-key sort of day at the stadium formerly known as Twickenham. The weather was unseasonably warm for mid-October and a sleepy fox was snoozing on the porch of a temporary building in the north car park. Inside England duly announced a wholly predictable squad, almost as if Steve Borthwick was doing his best to avoid stealing any of Thomas Tuchel’s thunder.
Borthwick also politely knocked back the invitation to pass on any tips to the incoming German – “he has plenty of experience in English sport already” – beyond matter-of-factly quoting the well-known stat about international teams with homegrown coaches doing better in major tournaments. He preferred to leave it to others, too, to observe that across men’s English cricket, football and rugby union he will soon be the solitary home -produced head honcho left.
Even so, there was no avoiding the inevitable enquiries regarding his own assistant coaches which soon followed. Until now Borthwick had chosen to stay silent on the abrupt summer departure of two of his key managerial sidekicks, Felix Jones and Aled Walters. Here, finally, was a chance to tell the world it was very much their loss and that the pair would bitterly regret their decisions.
Or, at least, that is what a straight-talking Teutonic leader might have done. Or, come to that, his immediate predecessor, Eddie Jones. Eddie’s mood would have instantly darkened and a confrontational edge – “What are you implying, mate?” – would have swiftly surfaced. Borthwick, by contrast, resembled a man who has been kicked somewhere painful and still cannot entirely understand why.
Which is the exact same question with which sizeable chunks of the English public are still wrestling. If (the stadium formerly known as) Twickenham is such a wonderful place to work, why did two of Borthwick’s most highly rated lieutenants suddenly jump ship? Ignore for a moment that Jones is Irish and Walters is Welsh – pearl-clutching patriotism only appears to be fully ignited by arrivals from continental Europe – and the quick-fire defections do not seem a total coincidence.
What is now a matter of record is that Borthwick did not see either coming. “The two of them are close, but it was still disappointing and surprising. I hadn’t anticipated it.” Really? If so there would usually be one of three conclusions. The first is that the England working environment is so stiflingly intense that unhappy employees felt unable to speak honestly and openly about their personal misgivings. The second is that they sense there is more chance of winning trophies elsewhere. And the third? That Borthwick’s managerial antennae are not picking up certain “soft” signals that world-class coaches normally spot a mile away.
Admittedly, there is one other possible explanation: that Borthwick has simply been unlucky. But Jones resigned without another job to go to and is being required to work remotely while serving his notice, which can be filed under “naughty boy nets” or “small-minded pettiness” depending on your viewpoint. Then again, given Jones is the chief architect of England’s shiny new defensive system, the last thing the Rugby Football Union wants is to see him hunched over a laptop in a rival coaching box next month.
Either way, Borthwick could have done with drawing a heavy line under it all this week. Unfortunately for him he has been unable to do so, the Premiership clubs having understandably blocked a proposed job-share deal which would have seen the respected Phil Morrow serve both England, who have a performance management role earmarked for him, and Saracens.
It would instead appear that Morrow, who would need to be bought out of a very lucrative long-term contract at Sarries, will not be in a red rose tracksuit before next summer at the earliest. With Kevin Sinfield’s role now more part-time and the new defence coach Joe El-Abd still working in France at Oyonnax, Borthwick’s backroom team is at risk of resembling one of those frustratingly incomplete Ikea wardrobes which always seem to be missing one or two crucial screws.
No wonder Borthwick was keen to project a steady-as-she-goes message. “We want to see the drama on the pitch ... when we see stuff happening off the pitch it’s characterised sometimes as drama. But, for me, we have quite a stable coaching team [comprising] guys I’ve worked with for a period of time now.”
The truth, though, is that it is not merely the players who could do with two or three resounding victories next month to prove all is fine and dandy.
With Jamie George reconfirmed as captain the primary aim, accordingly, is to turn a string of narrow defeats this year into morale-lifting wins. “In each of those games we have been winning at some stage,” stressed Borthwick. “If you include the Ireland game here there has been a key penalty and a key kick that has caused the result either to go for us or against us. As this team develops and matures, then I think we will understand [how to] close those games and finish the job.”
Which, of course, is precisely what earns top sporting alchemists their corn. Borthwick’s team made encouraging on-field progress on their summer tour and the quality of the squad is perhaps best illustrated by some of the talent omitted from it.
But as Herr Tuchel and Borthwick will doubtless agree when they do meet, clarity is everything when it comes to a team’s long-term identity. And, regardless of the head coach’s nationality, off-field uncertainty is rarely a recipe for sustained success on it.
