It would indeed have been to die for, but that win at Twickenham remains about as common down there as a total eclipse of the sun. I suppose it's something to do with having a population ten times the size of ours, but that doesn't make it any easier to take.

Well, this is sure turning into some rugby season. Scotland, a team of apparent no-hopers are suddenly just one match away from winning the Five Nations Championship. All we have to do is go to Twickenham and beat the English, a climax guaranteed to bring a rush of patriotic blood to the head and cloud all logical activity with partisan fervour.

For Gavin's army it may possibly be just a game, but that's hard to imagine when most of their countrymen will see the conflict as a final chance of revenge for centuries of injustice following a bloody military subjugation. Quite a load for fifteen men to carry.

With all our hopes riding on them we will expect aggression, courage and commitment, expect them to disregard the pain on our behalf, make an intense effort of will and have an all-consuming desire for victory. As with soccer tribes, we expect our players to push themselves to the edge of and beyond their limits, even at the risk of injury to themselves.

Of course, contact sports have rules in an attempt to restrict the carnage, but as the confrontation narrows down to one on one, we allow combat with fewer constraints, and the risks to be faced are inevitably higher, as clearly illustrated last week. Gerald Maclellan may have ended as a contender, but be sure that he was a boxer because he enjoyed it, partly because of the risk.

In Scotland more sportsmen look death in the eye on the side of a mountain than in a boxing ring, and few would deny climbers that opportunity. The death and injury rate in our war games may be of concern, but really don't compare to the real thing. They can't even compete with tobacco and alcohol, a risk we let non-sportsmen run for fun.

Our passions are a danger to ourselves. Football supporters are less at risk from the players on the pitch than they are from the crowd behind. We must learn greater self-control if we want to enjoy our combat in safety. Then we can rely on our delegated warriors to get into the thick of it on our behalf, and trust they realise that a win at Twickenham would be to die for.