For England this Six Nations Championship is about giving the Twickenham hardcore a decent reason to keep sticking the hamper in the hatchback. Call it the Scotch-egg-and-salmon test. Since HQ became a wraparound cathedral to physical subjugation the punters have pretty much sleepwalked to the altar. But to be frank about the modern Twickenham experience, it now requires great stoicism in the face of congested trains and roads, high prices and five defeats in England's past six Tests before this unconvincing 36-11 victory over Italy. Duty has replaced excitement at the top of the list of reasons to go.
In a preamble, Jeremy Guscott, prince of centres, delivered this withering observation: "Great teams have half a dozen world-class players and we don't have one."
This is the explanation of last resort. It barges into the inquest once the rest of the litany has been exhausted (team selection, coaching, tactics, wrong captain, and so on). Someone stands and up and mumbles: "You know what, we're just not very good."
It is too early to announce that apocalypse, but the shires will nod at Guscott's assessment should Martin Johnson's men fail to work out a more coherent purpose on this earth by the time this campaign concludes against Scotland on 21 March.
The nadir in sport is when only winning matters, when only triumph in the battle of the scoreboard will quell the rampant demons. This is the low England reached by shipping 102 points against the three southern‑hemisphere monsters in the autumn, and Johnson began to understand the powerlessness of great former captains who wake one day to find themselves in a puffa jacket in the stands with the mob demanding miracles.
This chaotic encounter will go down in history (if it leaves a mark at all) as the day Italy asked the roadie to conduct the symphony, with hilarious results. Mauro Bergamasco had won 69 caps, but precisely none at scrum-half. His reinvention from flanker to No9 for the day produced scenes reminiscent of a bar of soap being thrown around in an olive-oil spill.
Bergamasco's discomfort did much to facilitate England's 22-6 first-half lead. Simply, Italy played 40 minutes of this match without a scrum-half, the link between forwards and backs. Wales, in Cardiff on Saturday, are unlikely to mistake their team-sheet for a suicide note. The curtain finally dropped on Bergamasco's ordeal when the Italy coach, Nick Mallett, sent on Giulio Toniolatti to replace him after the break. With no convoy of expectation dogging him, Mallett will survive his aberration in hiring a lumberjack to slice a cucumber. For Johnson, though, there is no escaping the disquiet prompted by another incoherent performance.
In the simplest terms, England are not controlling the ball, controlling the game. That part of the rugby brain that makes the decisions keeps zapping out like ITV when someone is about to score a winning FA Cup goal. There is still insufficient shape and coherence to their endeavours.
Then there is the enduring plague of poor discipline. Shane Geraghty had been on the pitch for two minutes before vacating the stage again to enter the sin-bin, where James Haskell had warmed the seat for a ludicrous trip.
As a player Johnson exuded a deep understanding of what self-indulgence can cost in a sport of tight margins. As a manager, he has yet to impose a fear of retribution on a side that seem to think they can concede the advantage and catch up further down the road.
Johnson will cling to England's five tries and the injection of confidence as proof that England's rock bottom moment has finally passed. Harry Ellis, deputising for the injured Danny Care, staked a longer-term claim to the jersey and there was a large dose of family joy for Delon and Steffon Armitage, the first brothers to wear the red rose since Tony and Rory Underwood in 1995.
The top scorer in French rugby, with 160 points in 16 games for Brive, Andy Goode nevertheless looked like a fine club player just slightly out of his milieu at this level, which is why he had not worn England colours for 27 months.
Deeply unflattering reviews passed round the auditorium. Twickenham's regulars have watched too many English-led pummellings in this arena to be misled by tries that mostly fed off Italian mistakes, the main one being the selection of their rookie scrum-half
A post-match England toast to absent friends would have taken until Tuesday. A whole back row and a swarm of fly‑halfs were missing, either discarded (Danny Cipriani) or injured (Jonny Wilkinson, Toby Flood). But it is not so much the absence of superior players that arouses anxiety as the lack of authority and control.
Would you fancy this team to beat the grand slam champions in Cardiff? Thought no t. The search for one word to describe what they lack ends with a term well-known to people who like jazz. It is rhythm.
