I spent nearly three hours in the company of Martin Johnson last week, the under-fire England rugby manager who, of course, led his country to world cup victory as captain back in 2003. Now, Johnno and I go back quite a while. It was he who paved the way for me to join the Leicester Tigers for a hard, physical week's training before playing for them against Ulster. It was he who smuggled me into hisEngland team hotel on the Friday afternoon before a test match against Argentina the next day following the players' strike he led. It was he who sat with me one hour after hoisting the World Cup high above his shoulders in Sydney to write a 1,200-word column for The Mail on Sunday. (Never has a newspaper got so much out of a player's column than Johnson in those days). And it was he who sat with me again when he announced, emotionally, his retirement from international rugby. I reminded him of all this last week just before he spokewith passion and emotion about being in charge of the current England team. "Really," he replied, when I went through the list. "Were you also present at the birth of my children?"
