Six Nations: England coach Eddie Jones opts for silence and lets Billy Vunipola make all the noise

The No 8 was almost as influential against Ireland as he had been in the victory over Scotland on the opening day of the competition

Billy Vunipola shone for England (Getty)

Six Nations rugby is meant to be loud, proud, raucous and rowdy – especially when England and Wales find themselves joined together in unholy proximity at the top of the table and are scheduled to meet in something under a fortnight’s time.

Yet with the Red Dragon head coach, Warren Gatland, architect of the tournament’s last clean sweep, steering clear of the public eye, and his red-rose counterpart Eddie Jones taking Trappist vows in pursuit of a similar prize, it is suddenly as quiet as the grave. Call it “The Silence of the Slams”.

The England head coach’s recent pronouncements on the subject of the concussion-prone Lions outside-half Jonathan Sexton and associated player welfare issues have left him marginally less popular than Hannibal Lecter among the Irish rugby community and, as things stand, he sees little value in working his way under the skin of a second Celtic nation. Hence his decision to button it for 10 days or so. “I give you stories and you call it gamesmanship,” he said by way of explanation. “I’ve read the comments about my other comments. I can’t win, can I?”

It is equally true to say that Gatland’s decision to decommission his arsenal of verbal grenades, incomplete though that decommissioning may turn out to be, is an acknowledgement that in these circumstances, pre-match wind-ups can turn out to be more trouble than they are worth.

So far, so logical. But Jones is almost as entertaining in his efforts to say nothing as he is when offering rat-a-tat commentaries on all things under the union sun. Asked whether his provocative soliloquising has ever had the desired effect, he replied: “I don’t know, mate. I’m not that smart. I’m an Australian. I’m a convict.” So the grey silence is likely to hit a higher decibel level than the white noise. He may have decided to keep shtum, but everyone else in the monastery will still be able to hear him.

As coincidence would have it, Sexton was among those who spoke longest and loudest at Twickenham on Saturday, albeit through actions rather than words. England’s 21-10 victory margin over the fallen champions was just about fair and reasonable on balance. While Ireland, encouraged by a close-range touchdown from the excellent scrum-half Conor Murray, could have added further tries through the centre Robbie Henshaw and the debutant flanker Josh van der Flier, the home side should have been over the hills and far away by the interval. But for the No 10 from Dublin, they would have been.

Not to put too fine a point on it, Sexton reasserted himself as the northern hemisphere’s undisputed master of the outside-half’s art. He kicked beautifully from hand, he carved up the red-rose defensive line in broken field and he committed himself body and soul when it came to manning the barricades.

At the height of a fierce English siege before half-time, he made two try-saving interventions in the same move, getting to his opposite number George Ford to rub out an overlap going left and then forcing Billy Vunipola into a fumble on the switchback. Some weak link.

Yet in the final analysis, it was Vunipola who made more noise than everyone else put together. Almost as influential as he had been in the Calcutta Cup victory over Scotland on the opening day of the competition – no mean feat, considering his complete domination of that contest – the No 8 made such a mess of Ireland on the carry and gave his fellow forwards so many targets to hit, it was tempting to wonder whether Jones had fielded a one-man pack.

Vunipola was particularly cruel in his dealings with Donnacha Ryan and Devin Toner. The Irish locks were saddled with the job of neutralising England’s principal attacking threat, but neither man made the remotest sense of the task. Time and again, they went after their quarry in the loose; time and again they were smithereened all over south-west London. Ryan was the man obliterated in the build-up to Mike Brown’s conclusive try in the right corner just past the hour, but Toner was feeling no better come close of play.

So what happens if Vunipola crocks himself between now and the meeting with Wales – or, perhaps more pertinently, if his cousin and opposite number in the Red Dragon pack, Taulupe Faletau, refuses to roll over and have his tummy tickled?

Right now, an England without Vunipola in his pomp would be an England emasculated. And Jones knows it. Asked whether the No 8’s influence had become worryingly disproportionate, the coach nodded. “There’s a lot of truth to that,” he responded. “But as we develop, we’ll become less dependent on key players and more reliant on the team effort.”

In an ideal world, that transition would begin immediately and be completed by the time the Welsh come knocking on Twickenham’s door. In reality, the process will take a good deal longer.

But there are encouraging signs nonetheless: Jack Nowell, the back line’s version of Vunipola in influence if not in physical stature, is playing the best rugby of his international career – witness the epic try-saving tackle on Henshaw three minutes after Brown’s try – while Owen Farrell’s combative streak is giving some heft to the midfield.And while the newcomer in the engine room of the scrum, Maro Itoje, fell off three or four tackles on his first Test start, his ransacking of the Irish line-out was central to the outcome.

While Jones will want to see all this and more against Wales, the build-up will be defined by the Vunipola/Faletau confrontation. “It’s tough for me to compare the way we play: he’ll do his thing and I’ll do mine,” said the England-qualified Tongan, with a shrug of his mile-wide shoulders. It will be fun watching them do it on the day the talking has to stop. Or would have had to stop, had the silence not already descended.