Woodward's gameplan of two halves goes off half-cocked

Nine months today, these two teams could be contesting a World Cup semi-final in Sydney. A suitable gestation period, perhaps, for an experiment by Clive Woodward, to select two fly-halves when usually only one will do, that may not even last the Six Nations' Championship.

This was no midfield axis of evil, at least so far as the French were concerned, though given time it may become a familiar English ploy. The idea, at the risk of over-simplification, was for Jonny Wilkinson to occupy his customary fly-half position in defensive situations, and Charlie Hodgson, the novice Yorkshireman making only his third Test start, to step in to the role when on the attack.

Hodgson, wearing the No 12 jersey though never a centre in his 22-and-a-bit years on the planet, would also kick right-footed, to Wilkinson's left. And so we watched, intrigued and a tiny bit bemused, as theory turned into practice and Wilkinson, in many people's book the world's foremost No 10, dropped to the blindside wing behind an England scrum in their 22. Meanwhile Hodgson scurried into the "first receiver" berth with sometimes a wing, Ben Cohen, at his shoulder.

A match billed as the Grand Slam decider seemed a strange occasion for Hodgson, in particular, to be asked to attempt something alien. Afterwards Woodward, with victory secured, spoke of the coaches "putting their heads above the parapet" with some "risky selections". Well, he said it. He also got away with it. The truth was that it was neither a roaring success nor a crashing failure.

For a start, the kicking caper only went so far. Before the first half was out, Wilkinson managed to grubber-kick, punt and put up a garryowen, all right-footed. When Hodgson, on his right peg, was charged down for a try by Olivier Magne, it all looked like the worst idea since someone exported ice cubes to Alaska.

Woodward's closest confidants have been known to describe his decisions as depending upon which side of the bed he gets out of. But he is also credited with having streamlined every facet of the preparation of his team. The only stone left unturned is the size of a grain of sand.

So it was unlikely that Hodgson had been thrown the No 12 jersey like a child would playfully skim a stone into the ocean, whatever the quietly spoken Yorkshireman said about having it thrust upon him. Indeed, Hodgson switched between fly-half and centre with Wilkinson's Newcastle club-mate, Dave Walder, when they trained with England as long ago as October 2001. Had Hodgson not been inconvenienced by a clean-out operation on his knee in the autumn, the move may have been made during the November internationals. This fly-half variation was not done on the fly.

But having explored Woodward's psyche a little, what about the effect on Wilkinson's? England's record points-scorer chit-chatted with his new confrère like old wives in a bingo hall, scuttled hither and yon as the situation demanded and became, as usual, calmness personified when the kicks at goal came along. "Yeah, I'll have a go, Johnno," Wilkinson was heard to say nonchalantly to his captain, before banging over the first of his six successful place shots out of six.

Hodgson is no mean striker of the ball, either, but there are some notions too maverick even for Woodward. Wilkinson yesterday went past 600 points for his country, and the kicking tee is his personal possession.

Wilkinson has leant on Mike Catt outside him for his country before, but that was as the junior partner. Playing a kind of semi-second fiddle to Hodgson may not have the same appeal.

Clearly, compromise is the key. Hodgson began nervously but was a quick learner. And you can have the Waterloo train timetable on your back for all it matters when you exhibit a brilliant show-and-go, as the Sale man did to leave Damien Traille slithering on his backside. Just a shame the pass to Will Greenwood did not come.

When Wilkinson dropped a goal – with his left boot – to push England out to a match-settling 25-7 lead, all was more naturally in order than had initially appeared likely. That France had the better of the final quarter rendered difficult the drawing of further conclusions.

And just to keep Woodward and the rest of us on our toes, how delicious that the most instinctively executed pass of the match came not from Wilkinson or Hodgson, but the lucky 13, Greenwood, to send Jason Robinson in for his try. Woodward, incidentally never anything than an outside-centre in his day, loved it.