It’s all very well Scotland beating England (thanks largely to a South African) but they are pitiful at ever backing it up
SCOTLAND will bring the Calcutta Cup to Twickenham on Saturday and, after holding it for four years, they won’t want to let it go because, let’s face it, they aren’t in danger of winning anything else.
Harsh, but true. Their meek capitulation against Ireland in the last round of the Six Nations provided an annual reminder that the endless optimism north of the border has no foundation.
All the hype and hope lies on a thin layer of sand. There was a familiar sinking feeling at Murrayfield as the Irish bullied their out-classed opponents to claim a 32-18 win which could have been far more emphatic.
Now comes the fixture which acts as such a focal point for Scottish rugby. They have become used to beating England and that being the peak of their achievements. Raising themselves to face the ‘auld enemy’ is a familiar routine. Under Gregor Townsend, Scotland have won four in a row against their despised southern neighbours and have five wins and a draw from the last seven encounters.
It is a small feast amid a wider famine, and is founded on a motivational imbalance. There is no escaping the fact that the oldest fixture in international rugby matters more to one side than the other. While England players will be hell-bent on revenge this year, the normal pattern is that they can’t match the fired-up intensity coming at them, founded on historical antipathy.
Speaking anonymously, some of those who have worn the red rose in this fixture present a telling view of what it has meant. ‘It was never seen as a big game because we always won, until now,’ said one. ‘We had to be seen to say it was a rivalry, but it wasn’t.
‘We always face the best of Scotland because the fixture means more to them. For us, it’s always been just another game, which is what has cost us in the past four games. Emotionally, we struggle to get up as much as they do. It’s the one fixture they turn up for and play above themselves — then they can never back it up.’
The clue is in the anthem. Flower of Scotland is all about fighting off the English. And the point about backing it up is a valid one. Every year, there is a Scottish fanfare and a conviction that their ‘golden generation’ can land a prize at last. But, other than the Calcutta Cup, the shelves in the trophy cabinet remain resolutely bare.
In case of outrage, here are some stark facts. England have won seven titles in the Six Nations era. France, Ireland and Wales have all won six. Scotland have won none. Their last Grand Slam was back in 1990, when the game was still amateur. That is also the last time they clinched a Triple Crown. In 25 years since
Italy joined the European showpiece, Scottish finishing positions have been third — five times; fourth — eight times; fifth — eight times and sixth — four times.
This mid-to-lower-table existence is comfortable and safe, in a ring-fenced tournament. Scotland are a foundation union, entrenched in the post-colonial establishment. But they are not capable of challenging the Test rugby hierarchy. Playing talent has to be cobbled together from all parts.
Their recent record against England has been based in large part on a large South African, who is now Scotland’s record tryscorer — Duhan van der Merwe. There have been other project players from South Africa, not to mention a captain plus a No 8 from Australia. Many countries, including England, use imports, but the Scots have had to oversee a mass migration to reinforce their stocks.
Scotland seem to have reached their ceiling. Townsend had a fine playing career and is a smart, accomplished coach, as well as a passionate patriot, but even he hasn’t been able to lift his country above third place. They have never won more than three out of five games. Maybe that will happen this year. Maybe…
For England, this rivalry is different to the ones they have with the other Celtic nations, because the Irish and Welsh are hell-bent on lowering their colours, but only as part of grander objectives. They have pedigree.
Consider the bigger picture and
Scotland’s place in the untouchable elite is a damning indictment of rugby’s narrow reach. They always have a seat at the top table, despite not doing much to warrant it, while the likes of Georgia and Spain, seeking to harness promising growth, stay stuck on the outside, looking in.
These days, those striving for ‘Tier One’ status are vetted to assess the benefits they bring, but Scotland wouldn’t pass any such box-ticking exercise. It is a small country where rugby is a minority sport, with a modest talent pool and limited commercial clout.
Every other country in the Six Nations has a useful dimension. England and France have big-market benefits in the scramble for precious revenue and a fair share of titles and trophies. Wales
have had — at least until recently — national passion for the sport and plenty of success, too. Ireland are riding high amid an ovalball boom. Italy have struggled, but they are a symbol of vital expansion and have so much latent potential if results improve. Scotland? Not a clue, sorry.
Murrayfield always provides a fervent atmosphere, but rugby has such a limited footprint beyond its walls; really just Edinburgh public schools and borders heartlands.
There is enough home-grown talent to keep the flame flickering. Finn Russell is box-office, flying the flag in the Premiership, after illuminating France’s Top 14. Blair Kinghorn is at home amid exalted surroundings at Toulouse. Huw Jones is another class act. But Scotland have no professional-era titles and only two pro clubs, although Glasgow are the reigning URC champions and have become a force.
The country faces a constant battle to assemble competitive squads using every possible outside production line and slight allegiance to stay afloat. At least their Under 20s have won back a place at the junior World Cup this year, after being relegated in 2019.
On Saturday, Scotland will seek to extend their period of dominance over England. A fifth successive win would be their record sequence, if it were to happen. But even if they enjoy another one-day feast, the wider famine shows no sign of ending.