Rugby Union: All Black legend bows to the All Whites

A few tired theories bit the dust along with the All Blacks' unblemished record at Twickenham yesterday. One was that the 1997 All Blacks might be the pick of a rich vintage; another that England are a pint of flat Tetleys compared to the fizzing Moet of the southern hemisphere.

Defeats by the All Blacks at Old Trafford and by the world champions last Saturday had done little to shift grizzled opinions but no one can argue the toss with England's case now. Without heaping unnecessary praise on Clive Woodward's men, though they earned every decibel of their raucous support from a Twickenham crowd pumping with adrenalin, the World Cup does not look the forlorn and distant prize it did at breakfast yesterday.

Deprived of several key men, they outran the All Blacks for an hour and, despite some desperately heavy legs in the last quarter, salvaged a late penalty and a draw from a match which was theirs for the taking. "The crowd were magnificent. That's the best support we've ever had at Twickenham," Lawrence Dallaglio, the England captain, said.

The joy of Old Trafford finally found its way to headquarters, too, transported there by a classic game of ebb and flow which explored every skill, turned every trick. Majestic running, notably by Christian Cullen for the All Blacks, by David Rees and Will Greenwood for England, bone- breaking tackling and non-stop action which left bodies scattered over the Twickenham grass along with some well-polished reputations. The game had everything. Several times in a breathtaking first half, Zinzan Brooke must have wondered whether his 100th All Black jersey should have stayed on the peg. As John Edrich once remarked to Keith Fletcher when Jeff Thomson pawed the ground in the distance, "One tour too many, Fletch, one tour too many". Zinny knew the feeling.

Signing off from a distinguished international career with a pulsating finale at Twickenham must have seemed like a good idea, but some sentimentality had infiltrated the All Blacks' granite thinking. "There was a bit of a party atmosphere among the All Blacks," Dallaglio said. "Everyone was talking about Zinzan's farewell and maybe they were a bit complacent."

For much of the afternoon, there was only one No 8 on the field and he was not wearing black. Richard Hill, along with Dallaglio and Neil Back, lost nothing in comparison with the opposition back row and it was fitting that he should be on hand to scoop up Greenwood's blind pass to score the second of England's three inspirational tries in the first half. He was inches away from a second at the death. From the moment they lined up across the halfway line to confront the haka, though without the shenanigans of a fortnight ago, England dredged up a mighty last heave at the end of a relentless month's schedule.

Brooke led the All Blacks out, but spent much of his last international with the air of a schoolmaster disciplining errant pupils. The game whirled and eddied around him. When he caught up with his side, he barely had breath to pass on the benefits of his considerable experience. At one moment in the second half, he and Frank Bunce crossed paths in vain pursuit of another break. Neither spoke, but the picture told the story of a game moving swiftly over the horizon. Brooke's towel has been thrown in; Bunce's might follow.

Only instinct kept Brooke alive in the dying moments; he cajoled and organised, linked pack and backs where he could, even essayed a quick sidestep to set up a storming Mark Allen for a break. It took four England men to block him short of a fitting final try, but Mehrtens capitalised to score himself. Yet compared to Dallaglio and Hill or some of his predecessors this was not the contribution of an All Black No 8. His pension with the Harlequins, just down the road from Twickenham, could not mature a day too soon.

The shame was that England did not save their lap of honour for a display which really deserved it. "There's not much celebrating going on in our dressing-room," Dallaglio added. That, above all, is the measure of England's improvement.

Tim Glover, page 18