We have seen this before. It is easy to forget, amid all the tries and sunshine, that rugby has a darker side too: a wet, windy, deafening ferocity that not even the most twinkle-toed can transcend. And they practically invented it here.
This is not the first time Leicester have welcomed their beloved neighbours to the lair as champions and disabused them of any notions of grandeur. It took the Tigers 40 minutes to whip themselves into the necessary fervour, but when they did, all else followed: the rocking stadium at capacity, the win, the bonus point, the obliterated opposition.
