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 In 'le parlance' of our hosts for the Rugby World Cup 2007, a language I'm sure we will be quite weary of by the end of the year having tried so desperately to remember 'O' level French, Bonne Année my scrumptious pumpkins!
With all the frenzy and frolics of the festive season, followed by the imminent onslaught of the Six Nations, it quite slipped my fireball brain that I had not wished you well. I do hope you can find it in your heart to pardon my misdemeanor, and that you had an extremely merry christmas and jolly inebriated new year. Now, where does one begin with so much going on? Let us kick off [if you'll excuse the pun] with England. Oh my beloved England! What are they reducing you to but a farce? I will first apologise for the tirade I am about to let loose on my team, but please do understand it is not our boys I am jaded by, but the pastiche that is comically referred to as the management. It is not so much the Madness of King George but the Madness of Coach Ashton that we must contend with. Coach Ashton - with a resumé not to be sniffed at by any means - was part of the team that led Bath to not just 6 league but also 6 cup titles in 8 years, and he was head coach the last time Bath won the then Courage League [now Guinness Premiership]. Ashton was also a formidable attacking coach for England under Sir Clive, but he left in 2002 before we took over the world to run the National Academy then returning to Bath...again. So where's the problem I hear you ask...well...Mr Ashton has already tried his hand at this international coaching malarchy, so let me tell you all about it, as briefly as possible of course lest you slip away into a coma... In 1997 Brian Ashton, über-coach, was appointed Ireland Coach on a 6 year contract. This elevation in his  status proved to be more of a blip really as it lasted precisely 12 months [give or take a tad]. And during his tenure as International Coach, Ireland played 9 matches, of which they managed to lose 7. But they not only lost 7 matches, but lost twice to Italy, who during that era were nowhere near as good as they are today; so to incorrectly plagiarise the legendary Irish dramatist, Oscar Wilde [and I'm sure he will be turning in his grave but will understand the sentiment], to lose once to Italy may be regarded as a misfortune, to lose twice looks like carelessness! So here we have it, England Rugby has a new coach - Mr Brian Ashton. And he is obviously not in fear of change and upset which is so apparent in his Elite squad line up. His No. 1 fly half is that deliciously handsome but no longer so young Jonny Wilkinson who has played...well...let me think about this...hmmm...precisely zero games for England since November 22nd, 2003, and has managed one 80 minute game this season. But stop - it gets better - also named is Andy Farrell, the not-so-young and we-don't really-know-where-he-can-play-yet former Great Britain rugby league captain, who hadn't played 80 minutes of rugby union in his life until 4 months ago. Okay okay you cry - it could be worse...well it is. The only half-decent winger that England currently possesses, our very own Benjy Cohen is relegated to the Saxons, though in Ashton's defence, he has turned into reality Jason Robinson's hints of coming out of retirement which he made at the GP media launch at the beginning of the season. The problem here is that Billy Whizz retired in a timely fashion as his 'Whizz' was becoming predictable. Thankfully Martin Corry has been retired as captain, but his replacement, former England Captain, Phil Vickery has only recently come back from a long injury. And because I really should stop bitching soon, finally the world's best flanker, Richard Hill has been drafted in after a 16 month injury...Hurrah I hear you say!...to the Saxons squad that is. Here's hoping that Coach Ashton doesn't bring England to it's knees. Should, however doesn't necessarily mean I will stop, so just to finish off, there's two matters that completely baffle me. Firstly, we had a huge problem with our back row over the past couple of years. But Richard Hill is back on the scene, both Lewis Moody and Joe Worsley are doing well, and with Lawrence Dallaglio that makes an awesome back row with back up. But an on form Lolly's been dropped completely, Hilly's in the A team, and that leaves Lewis and Joe - alone in one position. But maybe Ashton has a secret plan??? Secondly, and even more incredulous, is the story of the England camp. Under Sir Clive, the boys were nurtured, cared for and somewhat pampered in the luxurious surroundings of Pennyhill Park Hotel & Spa, a mere 19 miles from Twickenham - an half hour or so potter down the A316. Coach Robinson saw this as an extravagance maybe? Wanted to stamp his authority on these spoilt bunnies possibly. They were were uprooted and relocated to Bisham Abbey, not so pretty and luxurious but a national centre of sports excellence - and only 25 miles away. And it obviously did the trick as we got so much better in our game...or then again, that only happened in my parallel world...we went downhill quicker than a rollercoaster. But fret ye not my lovelies! Coach Ashton is making his mark and moving them yet again...to a university with a pretty good sports set up. It's an inconsequential 106 - yes one hundred and six miles down the road to - wait for it - the University of Bath!!!
Does one get the impression that someone really doesn't want to move to Twickenham? One of the excuses given for Ashton's failure in Ireland is that he wasn't based in Ireland. Well this entirely does not bode well. And to make matters worse, I have it on pretty concrete authority that a week before Brian Ashton was appointed, he turned down the job point blank as he was only offered a caretaker position. But no thanks to RFU Chairman Martyn Thomas forcing the issue in the press, major renegotiations had to be hurried in order to make the announcement on the day he promised he would. Saving face seemed to be the order of the day rather than doing the right thing for England...though I do suppose that there was no one else left to take the job on the planet - anyone and everyone of consequence had ruled themselves out, publicly or otherwise. Methinks Coach Ashton should beware the ides of March, along with those of February...and I would suggest a wide berth in September and October too! Well my darling darlings, I cannot keep you away from your daily chores any longer, and though I have managed to speak on no other matter than my treasured England for some protracted time, I shall leave you in the hope that I am proved completely wrong; at approximately 5pm on Saturday 5th February, the Calcutta Cup will have returned to Twickenham for longer than a glance, and the dawn of our panacea will have taken place.... 
[...and pigs will likely be travelling at great speed in the skies above my mecca!]
I promise to return before the month is out with shenanigans from behind closed doors! Until then my dears...be good...and if you can't...be careful...
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