panic.
I don’t know how much of this is just me and my insecurity, but Clive isn’t having it. He can see I’m still not demonstrative, not saying enough in the meetings, not giving my opinion. I’m picked to play inside centre, and he makes it clear to me that if I’m ever going to play at ten, I need to be able to boss people such as Martin Johnson and Tim Rodber, tell them where I want them to go and what I want them to do and what they’re doing wrong, regardless of their status or position.
In meetings, Clive starts pushing me towards the front even more than before. More questions come to me. He asks me to talk through some of our moves. I understand what he is doing and why, but at this point I don’t have it in me. In no way do I have the ability to give what he wants from me. I still feel there are guys in the room who don’t necessarily want me here.
However, being first choice and starting for the team does give me an increased sense of belonging. I feel less like the guy who just won the competition. The night before our first game, against Scotland, I find a note that’s been slid under the door. It’s from Lawrence Dallaglio, our captain. He tells me about his early experiences of playing with England and what it meant to him, and that he is now proud to see me here doing the same thing.
Thanks, Lawrence. What a difference that suddenly makes.
We beat Scotland 24–21, a decent start to the Five Nations, even if we let them back in at the end, and I feel that I have done OK despite a couple of fairly simple defensive errors. I still have a lot to learn, obviously, but I think I show I am capable of getting around at that level.
Next up is Ireland, my best day so far in a white shirt. For the first time in international rugby, I feel as though I’ve found my feet. I get the opportunity to show some skills, to engage in the decision-making, to push everything forward. I make a late break and come within inches of scoring. I feel I have actually imposed myself here. It feels great. It’s awesome playing alongside Paul Grayson. I learn a lot from him. And I am starting to enjoy playing with some of my other teammates.
The old nervous anxiety is still throbbing away, though. That doesn’t change. There are times when it feels like hell, when I can’t sleep the night before the game, when I am thinking about it all the time, the game and nothing else. But I have to cope, I have to get through it. I still feel I’m at the bottom of the mountain, looking up and wondering what I can achieve.
In the week before the France game, I split my ear so badly in training it rips slightly from the side of my head. This is a recurrence of an old injury and it means that I have to play with tape around my head. I hate that. I feel so self-conscious out there. But the game goes well, I kick seven penalties and we win 21–10. We are a good team and now we are going into a Grand Slam decider against Wales.
And I am slowly finding people I relate to in the squad, younger guys such as Dan Luger, David Rees and Matt Perry. For the Wales game, Barrie-Jon Mather is in the team at centre. What an awesome bloke. And Steve Hanley is on the wing. He’s a great bloke, too. There’s a bit of a younger feelto the squad and I like it. At mealtimes I can normally find somewhere to sit. Occasionally, I can even manage a smile.
We play the Wales game at Wembley and it’s one of the greatest surfaces I’ve ever played on. Absolutely beautiful.
We play good, attacking rugby, but we cannot get much of a lead because we keep on coughing up the odd penalty and Neil Jenkins, the Welsh number ten, kicks everything from everywhere. What we will remember, though, is that towards the end, we have a penalty to stretch the lead, but Lawrence elects to kick for the corner and go for the try. We all agree with his decision.
It would have been a perfect call if it had come off, but it doesn’t. We then concede a tough penalty from a
I don’t know how much of this is just me and my insecurity, but Clive isn’t having it. He can see I’m still not demonstrative, not saying enough in the meetings, not giving my opinion. I’m picked to play inside centre, and he makes it clear to me that if I’m ever going to play at ten, I need to be able to boss people such as Martin Johnson and Tim Rodber, tell them where I want them to go and what I want them to do and what they’re doing wrong, regardless of their status or position.
In meetings, Clive starts pushing me towards the front even more than before. More questions come to me. He asks me to talk through some of our moves. I understand what he is doing and why, but at this point I don’t have it in me. In no way do I have the ability to give what he wants from me. I still feel there are guys in the room who don’t necessarily want me here.
However, being first choice and starting for the team does give me an increased sense of belonging. I feel less like the guy who just won the competition. The night before our first game, against Scotland, I find a note that’s been slid under the door. It’s from Lawrence Dallaglio, our captain. He tells me about his early experiences of playing with England and what it meant to him, and that he is now proud to see me here doing the same thing.
Thanks, Lawrence. What a difference that suddenly makes.
We beat Scotland 24–21, a decent start to the Five Nations, even if we let them back in at the end, and I feel that I have done OK despite a couple of fairly simple defensive errors. I still have a lot to learn, obviously, but I think I show I am capable of getting around at that level.
Next up is Ireland, my best day so far in a white shirt. For the first time in international rugby, I feel as though I’ve found my feet. I get the opportunity to show some skills, to engage in the decision-making, to push everything forward. I make a late break and come within inches of scoring. I feel I have actually imposed myself here. It feels great. It’s awesome playing alongside Paul Grayson. I learn a lot from him. And I am starting to enjoy playing with some of my other teammates.
The old nervous anxiety is still throbbing away, though. That doesn’t change. There are times when it feels like hell, when I can’t sleep the night before the game, when I am thinking about it all the time, the game and nothing else. But I have to cope, I have to get through it. I still feel I’m at the bottom of the mountain, looking up and wondering what I can achieve.
In the week before the France game, I split my ear so badly in training it rips slightly from the side of my head. This is a recurrence of an old injury and it means that I have to play with tape around my head. I hate that. I feel so self-conscious out there. But the game goes well, I kick seven penalties and we win 21–10. We are a good team and now we are going into a Grand Slam decider against Wales.
And I am slowly finding people I relate to in the squad, younger guys such as Dan Luger, David Rees and Matt Perry. For the Wales game, Barrie-Jon Mather is in the team at centre. What an awesome bloke. And Steve Hanley is on the wing. He’s a great bloke, too. There’s a bit of a younger feelto the squad and I like it. At mealtimes I can normally find somewhere to sit. Occasionally, I can even manage a smile.
We play the Wales game at Wembley and it’s one of the greatest surfaces I’ve ever played on. Absolutely beautiful.
We play good, attacking rugby, but we cannot get much of a lead because we keep on coughing up the odd penalty and Neil Jenkins, the Welsh number ten, kicks everything from everywhere. What we will remember, though, is that towards the end, we have a penalty to stretch the lead, but Lawrence elects to kick for the corner and go for the try. We all agree with his decision.
It would have been a perfect call if it had come off, but it doesn’t. We then concede a tough penalty from a
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