Luckily this one isn't too blurred. It was so steamy on the train with hundreds of damp coats and hundreds of warm bodies that it was barely drier than the downpour outside: the lens could easily have misted up.

I've eased myself into the aisle seat of this group of 4 and I'm musing on the disadvantages of a Gore-tex jacket where all the rain runs off and soaks your trousers. But look at the face of thunder on the woman opposite me! She's been earnestly texting someone but is shooting a filthy glare up at the women standing with her back to her in the aisle beside her seat. Dame Fate (TFM) has decreed that Seated Woman's head will be exactly at the level of the handbag slung over Standing Woman's shoulder. With the crowd of people packed onto the train there is nowhere for that handbag to go exact backwards and forwards against Seated Woman's temple. So she has chosen the simplest and most effective way of making this stop: THE POWER OF HER MIND! She's obviously sure that by channeling negative thoughts through her deeply furrowed brow and directing them upwards at Standing Woman this nuisance will quickly come to an end.

Unfortunately it doesnt seem to be working. This must be the fourth of fifth time she's done it. Maybe the damp atmosphere is diluting the potency of her mind control. Do negative vibes need an arid atmosphere? Thankfully, because she is British, she hasn't opted for any hair-brained schemes like politely asking Standing Woman to move her bag. That would have caused Awkwardness. And Awkwardness thrives in a damp atmosphere so once its out there who knows where it could end. That Awkwardness could cause a Scene! And nobody wants a Scene on the 8.35 to London Bridge.

"You can keep your Shakespeare:" said the great Sid Waddel "You can't beat this for drama!". Sid was talking about darts of course but what he says describes the greatest moments in any sport.

England's win in the final of the Rugby World Cup had drama and tension by the bucketload. It was more compelling than most plays. Like some frantic improvisation the pattern and direction of the game followed no plan, it was the servant of the passions and performances of the players. Sometimes when watching sport, the game can seem aimless. Players seem to go through the motions and the crowd almost longs for a plot: some direction of action that will give them what they want. But that is not sport: that is professional wrestling. Here the sportsman/actor/performer divide is not so much blurred as erased. So there is pain and emotion, "drama" and excitement, heroes and villains. All carefully choreographed, timed and controlled to deliver an enterainment package to the "sports fans" outside the ring. But real sport is not so predictable. Real sport can be dull, lacklustre and uninspired. So can any improvisation. Some nights it just doesn't happen, for all the practice and preparation put in, some nights you can still just "die on your arse". But then some nights you can really fly. Some nights you can storm the place just like some games or matches you watch will be one of those "I was there" occasions and some won't. And nobody knows what way it is going to go until the lights come up or the whistle blows.

Great theatre can move you, educate and delight you in many ways. But the actors are expressing something second-hand. They must express the vision of a director and the words of a writer. They can do that with great skill but do we see any more than the skill of an actor? What do we see of the actors themselves? In sport we see the character and personality of the performer un-mediated by anyone else's vision. For all the good intentions of the coach or the manager when the game starts it's down to the players. That's when we see who panics, who stays calm, who dives and claims a penalty, who gets up and goes for goal. On Saturday we saw nerves and passes going awry. But we also saw the steely calm of Elton Flatley and Jonny Wilkinson. We saw unbending determination to win and an un-ending determination not to loose. There was indvidual brilliance and there was collective brilliance. We saw the passion of Jason Robinson scoring a try and the passion of the fans cheering their teams. It was a snap shot of what it is to be human: to believe in things, to strive, laugh, cry and celebrate the moment.

And we won.

At last my blog is up and running!!