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.
