England's Grand Slam 1991

Not since Bill Beaumont's 'annus mirabilis' of 1980 has England won the 'Grand Slam' of victories over Wales, Scotland, Ireland and Trance in the Five Nations Championship. But in 1991, with the same IS players in all four matches, Will Carting's team finally achieved that elusive goal. On their way to the ultimate triumph England passed some - significant milestones. First they -. beat the 'Cardiff bogey' with victory over Wales for the first time in 28 years at Cardiff Arms Park - when Simon Hodgkinson kicked 7 penalty goals - a world record. They avenged their 1990 defeat at Murrayfield by beating Scotland at Twickenham, and battled their way to the Triple Crown in a thrilling encounter in Dublin. Finally, a decade of frustration ended when Carling's men put paid to France's all-conquering challenge in the Gland Slam climax at Twickenham. Will Carling joins Nigel Starmer-Smith in reliving the highlights of a dramatic championship season that brought England their long-awaited glory.

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Bitrate 1200
Sound 128 kbps
French Comments
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Running time: 105 mins approx
Introduced by Nigel Starmer-Smith
Commentators: Bill McLaren with
Bill Beaumont
TV Presentation: Johnnie Watherston,
Dewi Griffiths, RTE, A2F
BBC Video Producer: John Bodnar

Caps

England France

16 March 1991
Twickenham,
London

In the Eighties England got thumped by France every year. They were the best side by miles at the time. The Rose did have one 9-9 draw but otherwise it was all defeats. Eventually we beat them at Twickenham in 1989. That was a huge psychological win for us after a decade of defeats. Geoff Cooke was coach and he had really made a difference. We were steadily improving and we'd gone from whipping boys to second in the world. 1991 was a big game. We'd lost the last match against Scotland the year before and were getting stick for our style. People forget that this team broke all sorts of try-scoring records. Losing at Murrayfield in 1990 had made us all a bit more streetwise. We went into the French game knowing we tripped up the year before, and that the Grand Slam was at stake. The atmosphere was fantastic. You could virtually touch the crowd, I mean they were only five yards away. People think you're out there for 80 minutes and totally zoned in on the play. You're not, and obviously there are stoppages and injuries and especially out on the wing, you can hear what people are saying. As far as I remember, everything went to plan - we played really well from the start and I scored a try. Incidentally, that try is shown quite a lot, but it's the worst passing sequence ever by a set of English backs - we were slipping over, running into each other and by some miracle the ball got to me. I did one of my trademark 'stop and goes' and Jean-Bapiste Lafond, my opposite number, slipped. I managed to get a hand on him and he went to ground.

Then I was away and over the line. We went two scores ahead, and were cruising and then 'that' try happened. Serge Blanco started it from the touchline and then it went out to Lafond and then to Sella. Sella came back and did a scissors with Camberabero. He ran towards me and chipped me and the ball just clipped the top end of my finger. Now, whether that kept the ball in or just made it drop right so he could catch it full, I don't know. But they scored anyway and it was a fantastic try. We were just chasing shadows after that. By the end it was just so bloody tense. They had their tails up and were trying to run it in from everywhere; we were defending like mad. And then it was over. There is a picture of me jumping up in the air out of a scrum as the whistle blew. Geoff Cooke's got it on his wall. The crowd spilled onto the park and I remember me, Rob Andrew and Will Carling being hoisted among this throng. It was incredible. The French were downcast obviously. The thing with the French then was that, because of the resurgence of England, they went through a phase where they were slightly more antagonistic. And guys like Brian Moore winding them up didn't particularly help. It took until the 1995 World Cup in South Africa when they beat us in the play-off for things to change. That night in Pretoria we managed to hit the same bar as the French, and we got shit-faced, apart from me, because I don't drink. And because we got shit-faced we bonded and mixed. That evening did more for détente than anything over the years!