LONG READ Mick Cleary: 'Borthwick’s men must commit themselves to a wholly different way of playing.'

Who was this guy? Off came Louis Bielle-Biarrey’s distinctive red head-guard and there stood revealed a fresh-faced, Beatle hair-cut youngster, all innocence and joy, and not the deadly try-scoring assassin that had been the scourge of every opposition. His cover had been blown.

And who were these guys, cover also blown? All in white, sweat-soaked, bloodied, hollow-eyed, shattered from their balls-out exertions as well as from the last-gasp stunner that had snatched a famous victory away from them. Thomas Ramos might as well have landed his kick right into the nether regions of his opponents for that was the effect of the successful 45-yarder, sending France into ecstasy and England down onto their knees. This was England denied, an England that had defied pre-match forecasts, an England that had rolled back the stone from the seeming dead and risen again. This was the England all their followers had yearned for. England – where the hell have you been hiding? No more programmed robots. Welcome back, living, breathing humans, making up their own minds.

So much for the emotion of the occasion, a thrilling finale to what had been a compelling championship, scripted in Hollywood, played out across the six great capitals of Europe. Don’t ever let them meddle with this tournament. They have been plenty of suits who have lobbied to meddle with the format and scheduling. It ain’t broke. It doesn’t need fixing.

And yet, do Borthwick’s England still need fixing? It looks for all the world as if they have self-medicated. And there is nothing wrong with that approach. Just as it was wholly right and proper that Borthwick was in the spotlight, his job in question after three wretched performances in a row, then so too should this invigorating display grant him a stay of inquiry. It would be a service to their suffering fans if England did hold an open press conference to explain quite how they have gone from rooster to feather duster and back again, a magic trick worthy of David Copperfield, but that is not going to happen. Borthwick presented the same stony-wall face to the world – well, maybe a hint of a told-you-so smile – in the aftermath. The players themselves had pretty much kept their counsel when the criticism was at its fiercest so they are unlikely to turn on their boss now.

But such a dramatic about-turn in tactical approach simply does not happen unless the players want it to happen. Out went the mind-numbing kick-kick-kick playbook, hopefully never to be seen again unless at a knock-down price in an Oxfam charity store in years to come – ‘50p to you, guv’.  The players took control of their own destiny in Paris and there can be no turning back. The game has moved on as we have seen from all those other exhilarating encounters in this championship. The Springboks have re-invented themselves over a few years, refining their fundamentals. The All Blacks are the All Blacks and they will be back, more hard-nosed and fleet-footed then ever. Ditto Australia.

England have never before lost four matches. They have never before lost to Italy. They have never before conceded so many to Ireland. And on it goes, a ledger of shame.

Borthwick has to pledge to that sort of bright future, where kicks might be necessary but so too is ball-in-hand. Ambition must no longer be stunted, relegated to an after-thought in that blasted playbook. Intensity must never slip below Tyson Fury levels in a boxing ring. England must dance like Ali and hit like whichever Tyson you care to name. They did so in Paris and that has to be the base camp reference point from hereon in. if it isn’t, then this will have been a wasted effort.

There is another narrative to study from Super Saturday night. And that is the ready reckoner of the championship. England have never before lost four matches. They have never before lost to Italy. They have never before conceded so many to Ireland. And on it goes, a ledger of shame. That cannot be, and should not be, filed away in a Twickenham cupboard, shrugged off as some sort of media-storm that was whipped up. It happened all right. And Borthwick has to be accountable for that. And those inquiries have to be made transparent.

What has become clear is that the Twickenham public, and the Allianz sponsors come to that, will not tolerate the drudge-fest that has been served up. There will not be an England fan in the land who will take issue with how Borthwick’s team went about their business at the Stade de France. Well, not much. Their management of the last couple of minutes was abject. Between them Henry Pollock and Jack van Poortvliet made a right Horlicks of closing out the game. Pollock’s wind-up antics are all very well, even his TikTok flummery, but as Courtney Lawes expressed so vividly in a Times column, these boys need to harden up. That doesn’t mean throwing their weight around, or childishly cupping their ears at the crowd. It means being tough in the mind, being clinical and ruthless. Van Poortvliet hoisted a box kick as if by rote which was run back vividly by Matthieu Jalibert. Pollock, meanwhile, did all the hard work in stripping Thibauld Flament, peeling away only to attempt a miracle off-load to Caden Murley. Doh.

Ollie Chessum, who had an otherwise deeply impressive game, ought also to have touched down nearer the posts when he scored. England’s goal-kicking needs polishing. No one is as dead-eyed reliable as Ramos but even so. Fin Smith needs to be more consistently accurate. Those three missed conversions alone were the difference on the night.

The Nations Championship will tell us whether this is an encouraging blip or a genuine turning point. No sane person would want to go back to the kick-and-clap days. Borthwick has to commit to the new way.

Borthwick, then, should still be on special measures. It would seem, though, that the crisis has eased. Thank goodness those ‘Wanted: Lee Blackett’ posters worked. The attack coach was found safe and well between Rome and Paris and went straight back to work.

The Nations Championship will tell us whether this is an encouraging blip or a genuine turning point. No sane person would want to go back to the kick-and-clap days. Borthwick has to commit to the new way.

There are many other things, of course, that the head coach needs to get sorted. Discipline is top of that Must Do list. Erratic and careless and downright reckless behaviours are usually a symptom of unease within camp. If the strategy changes, as it did to this more bold and enterprising approach, then perhaps the discipline issues will look after themselves. Even so, England copped yet another yellow card and also didn’t have the wherewithal to avoid giving the last penalty. Referee Nika Amashukeli had a jittery game, ruinously changing his mind on a penalty knock-on advantage, while the decisive high tackle call against England that teed up Ramos looked harsh albeit on the France advantage play, Maro Itoje, infringed again.

One wallow ought not a summer make, but England do have guarded reason to hope for better to come. Itoje has got his mojo back while Chessum showed that he is a captain-in-waiting.

Clive Woodward’s England trudged out of the French capital in 1999 having lost without much of a peep against South Africa in the World Cup quarter-final. They vowed to put such lifeless displays behind them. And they did. Borthwick’s men must make a similar pledge and commit themselves to a wholly different way of playing. It has been a sobering championship for England, harrowing at times but, at the risk of sounding like Humphrey Bogart in ‘Casablanca’, they’ll always have Paris.