Why Calcutta Cup is such a special

AH I was on the bench in 1997 and just sat there, watching Andy Gomarsall. I was thinking about how c--p he was and wondering why I wasn’t playing. I was turning around every now and then to look at Jack Rowell, thinking: ‘You really should be putting me on, here’. He completely ignored me, so I didn’t come on and stayed there all game. And it wasn’t a particularly good game, either. KL They were really good to me, but then I played my club rugby in England, so most fans knew me. You’d get some good banter – especially at the old Twickenham, when the fans were right on top of you – but I got far more stick playing for Wasps at Kingsholm or Welford Road than I did playing for Scotland at Twickenham. There’s an edge to all games, but it’s deeper than it is against other countries, especially when it’s played at Murrayfield. As a Scot you can have a c--p season, but if you win the Calcutta Cup then, somehow, it’s all OK, so there’s a real intensity. That’s why the matches tend to be quite boring. At Twickenham, light banter is the order of the day; at Murrayfield it’s hatred.

AH No different to any other. I used to love playing in Scotland, it was always good fun and I found the Scots up for a beer after, too.

KL Jason Robinson. He was so electric when he had the ball, you never knew what he was going to do. The Underwood brothers were pretty decent, too, and always got quick front-foot ball. His footballing skills made Austin Healey very tricky. My favourite opponent was my club-mate Josh Lewsey, as it was the only time I got to play him.

AH Kenny Logan. He was big, strong and difficult to tackle – probably one of the most difficult out of all the people I played against – in many ways! He wasn’t playing in that really wet, cold game we lost up in Edinburgh in 2000, but that was my least favourite memory. With about 10 minutes to go, I broke through. Duncan Hodge tap-tackled me, I think, and I must have slid about for 10 metres into this puddle. Then about 20 people jumped on me and I was virtually drowning in at Murrayfield. I stood up in the middle of an international with the sort of attitude you might have as an 11 year-old kid: “I don’t care if we win this game any more, I just want to go home.” After the final whistle, I ran straight off and sat in the bath with the whole team.

KL Lawrence Dallaglio was the best leader of men I’d ever met and also my club captain. The first time I played against him, I hit a ruck and this big fist came through a pile of bodies and landed on my chin. “See you at training!” shouted Dallaglio, laughing.

AH One of the best tackles I ever made was against Scotland, on their tall, thin second row called Scott Murray. He was five metres out from our line. I hit him and all 11 stone of me carried him back a few yards. That would have been at Twickenham in 2001. In 1998 at Murrayfield, I kicked the ball through and Will Greenwood ran alongside me and shouted “man on”. I looked around, saw there was nobody near me, swore at him, kicked the ball again and scored in the corner. He jumped at me and said: “You nearly passed that!” I replied: “I’d have killed you if I had.” When you watch it back on