Just as Steve Borthwick was reaching for his coat, he finally has something to hang his hat on. The ledger records an agonising defeat but a performance brimming with positives, carried out with a swagger that must signpost the way forward if this is to be the turning point in Borthwick’s tenure. Moments of naivety, too, plenty of mistakes and a maddening feeling that leaves you questioning why they do not always play like this.
Around half an hour before kick-off of this bonkers Six Nations finale, as part of an equally mind-boggling, gloriously French, pre-match show, there was a moment when two white horses cantered down the middle of the pitch, hitched up on their hind legs before galloping away in different directions down the touchline to take up residence behind each goal. The two horsemen facing each other down. It was then that you sensed something might be in the air.
