A dream of a day for English rugby, from the wide-eyed crowds streaming into Twickenham at 11am, five hours before kick-off of the World Cup final, to the Red Roses’ captain Zoe Aldcroft flinging the trophy skywards as the late summer sun dipped behind the West Stand, casting a golden glow over a widely anticipated and fully deserved victory.

It was joyous and uncomplicated and pretty damned close to the purest form of sport – a group of women pushing each other to excel, and given the means to do it with thorough preparation, and a grand stage on which to showcase it, yet unfettered by the responsibilities and jealousies of big wages and bitter rivalries, and under no huge pressure to win from anywhere but within.

England’s players might even look back on their 33-13 defeat of Canada

See Full Page