England face extreme test of true greatness

Rugby Union: Woodward's side must win today's Test in the All Blacks' backyard if they are to be considered worthy of joining game's legends

Reuben thorne, the 58th chosen one to be anointed All Black captain since New Zealand first set foot on an international field exactly a century ago, describes England as a "great team" - no mean accolade, given that generations of New Zealanders have regarded English rugby in the way a dog might regard a lamppost. While few would question Thorne's sincerity, he is not quite correct. This may be the finest red rose vintage of the post-war era, and probably the best since the 1920s, but great teams win wherever they are asked to play. Clive Woodward's side have yet to prove their mettle at the extreme edge of the union game.

Yes, they beat South Africa in Bloemfontein - hostile territory at the best of times - on their hike across the Springbok badlands in 2000, and they saw off the machismo-soaked Argentinians in Buenos Aires last summer. But the Boks have been in decline for a while now, and the Pumas have never secured a position in the front rank of Test nations. In the modern era, greatness is achieved in one of two ways, or preferably both: through victory in a World Cup, and by success in the Antipodes. As things stand, England have never laid hands on the World Cup, never won even a single Test in Australia, and have only once beaten the All Blacks in New Zealand, in Auckland in 1973.

If they ever have a better chance than this of righting the wrongs of history, it will not be any day soon. Next week, they take on a weakened Wallaby team in Melbourne, where the average Australian Rules-obsessed local would not recognise a Wallaby if he saw one on his verandah; in four months' time, Woodward and his charges make a return trip to compete in the fifth World Cup, a tournament towards which they have been building since being dumped out of the last one at the quarter-final stage. And today, at the Westpac Stadium here - otherwise known as the "Cake Tin" - they play an unfamiliar, under-cooked All Black side long on talent but short on preparation.

"Ideally, we would have had a warm-up game before going into this one," Thorne admitted yesterday. "We look crash-hot on the training field, running against no one, but we haven't done it in a match yet," added his vice-captain, the fearsome Tana Umaga.

All Blacks rarely discuss their vulnerabilities in public - for the vast majority of the last 100 years, there have been precious few vulnerabilities worth talking about - but the feeling on the Wellington waterfront was that Thorne and Umaga were not stringing their audience along. The New Zealanders are profoundly nervous about this one, to the extent that the odds have been shortening on England since they ripped up the Maori in New Plymouth on Monday.

There is almost a sense of the rugby public here getting their excuses in early, to recoin a celebrated old one-liner. (Is it really more than 30 years since Carwyn James and his Lions pitched up in the these parts promising to "get their retaliation in first"?) There has been much talk of English pragmatism - a round-the-houses way of accusing the tourists of playing a boring, bovine brand of rugby - and of New Zealand's need to bed in their newcomers, the sevens-loving No 8 Rodney So'oialo and the backs Joe Rokocoko and Ma'a Nonu. Chris Laidlaw, one of those special All Blacks of the 1960s whose place in the silver-ferned pantheon is assured, said yesterday: "Can we foot it with this England machine? Logic says no. It seems odd to have the All Blacks, at home, starting as underdogs, but that's the way the world is now and it's rather hard to see the roles ever being reversed again. Dammit."

It goes without saying that Thorne will rage against what Laidlaw appears to consider inevitable defeat with every fibre of his being. The captaincy demands that much of him. "Will the English pack squeeze the life out of us? Only if we let them," he muttered, darkly. Some fisticuffs in prospect, perhaps? "Let's face it, rugby is a physical game and you have to be able to stand up for yourself a wee bit. I'd hate to see the sport get to the point where you can't touch anyone." Enough said.

Down the ages, it is the All Blacks themselves who have bordered on the untouchable, particularly at home. Their record in Auckland and Christchurch is magnificent - they have won more than 75 per cent of their Tests in both cities - while their performance in the so-called "House of Pain" in Dunedin defies belief: only three defeats in 31 internationals since 1908. Wellington, however, is the weakest of the strongholds, albeit not by much. Of the 42 Tests played at the old Athletic Park stadium, they won 29. At the new Westpac, opened in 2000, they have won three out of four.

Does it all add up for England, then? Even the venue? Only a brave man or a fool would dismiss, or even question, the ability of Umaga, Doug Howlett, Carlos Spencer, Justin Marshall and the exhilarating Richie McCaw, by some distance the finest open-side flanker in the game, to make the big plays at the big moments. The newcomers are no slouches, either: Rokocoko is seriously quick, Nonu a major attacking threat, So'oialo a footballer of considerable pedigree. Given 40 per cent of the ball, they will expect to win, maybe by a dozen points or more.

But requiring 40 per cent possession and getting it are two different things, and the New Zealanders fear this England pack. Interestingly, there is a notion that Woodward, the national manager and selector-in-chief, may have missed a trick in this department. Graham Rowntree and Jason Leonard, his two props, know what it is to brave the purgatorial fires in All Black country, and their contribution to a supreme forward effort on Grand Slam day in Dublin was as substantial as their post-match intake of the local brew. Yet a front row containing the two Gloucester hard-heads, Trevor Woodman and Phil Vickery, would have made the New Zealanders even less keen to mix it at close quarters. Both men have had their injury problems, but their performances against the Maori on Monday were those of players in their prime. Had Woodward been really brave, he would have picked them in tandem.

Elsewhere, though, the team more or less selected itself, for England have experience, continuity and confidence coming out of their ears. The All Blacks, on the other hand, are lacking all three commodities, which cannot be whistled up out of the blue. Woodward senses his advantage, and spoke yesterday as no previous English coach has ever felt able to speak. "Probably for the first time," he said, "we've arrived here with a reasonably good team containing some world-class players, off the back of a good 12 months. This is a 50-50 game, and it doesn't happen this way very often."

Too right. If sporting success on the grand scale is about seizing the main chance as and when it arises, England are 80 minutes away from achieving something special. Greatness? That would be a premature call in World Cup year. But they would not be a million miles away.