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Only four weeks after being awful, the England Rugby Union team is now marvellous. It’s been a quite dramatic turnaround; the Rugby World Cup pool game between England and South Africa back in September saw England receive a 36-0 thrashing and led to the widespread belief that England had not a cat in Hell’s chance of defending their crown. Headlines such as ‘Worst World Champions Ever’ proliferated (ahem) and many observers doubted whether the team would even qualify for the tournament’s knockout stages. Fast-forward four weeks and, by beating hosts France, England have booked their place in next week’s final, amazing all but the most patriotic of pundits and giving themselves the chance of being the first nation ever successfully to defend the Webb Ellis trophy.

So how did it happen? God only knows, but it seems that being so totally written off engendered in the English team a bloody-mindedness and a ‘back to basics’ approach that enabled them to slowly battle back towards form. After that, a combination of scrummaging power, fortunate bounces, last-ditch tackles, immense heart and keeping Lawrence Dallaglio off the pitch until the dying seconds has seen England to their current, unfeasible position. Their matches haven’t been flashy, but even the neutrals must have admired their spirit.

But despite this comeback of Barrymore-like proportions, the fact remains that England’s record over the past four years has been poor. Before last week’s shock victory over Australia, the team had won just 19 of their past 44 games. So we can still justifiably, albeit bizarrely, call England the worst world champions ever even at the point where they could become the best world champions ever. Go figure.

On an entirely unrelated subject, I have just discovered that I am taller than the average Brazilian. Admirável! But shorter than the average Lithuanian. Po Kelmais!

In just over three hours we will know whether to call the current English rugby union team the worst World Champions that the sport has ever known. A loss to Tonga will see England tumble out of the Rugby World Cup at the end of the group stages - a fate not experienced by any previous holders of the Webb Ellis trophy.

Much as the team’s poor performance will be a disappointment to the fans, it can’t really be considered a surprise. No sooner than the Sydney 2003 hangover had passed did England’s victory bus begin to wobble, as if Freddie Flintoff had hitched a lift at Trafalgar Square and taken over the steering. Sir Clive disappeared for a job keeping the youth of Southampton off the streets, to be succeeded by grumpy gnome Andy Robinson. Genuinely world-class players such as Martin Johnson decided that they had nothing more to gain by hanging on, while some who should have joined them dug their fingernails in instead of letting go gracefully (are you listening, Lawrence Bruno Nero?)

Throw in some turgid performances in the Six Nations, a few thrashings by the southern hemisphere nations and a first loss to Argentina, and you have a build-up to the 2007 tournament that certainly ripped up no trees. And despite the arrival of Brian Ashton, a man with a reputation for coaching flair, skill and at least being able to pass (Joe Worsley have you been listening?), the England XV are often just awful to watch. So if they lose tonight, should we care?

The domestic game does not seem to have suffered yet from having such an incompetent national team - Guinness Premiership attendances continue to rise and junior clubs continue to form and build new clubhouses. Money pours into the game, and there are signs that the RFU and the English clubs may finally have come to a truce over their many disagreements. Maybe an early exit for England will be cathartic, clearing the last vestiges of 2003’s stale air and allowing the creation of a new, youthful, joyful team that doesn’t look like it is afraid of its predecessors.

So I’ll be cheering for Tonga then? Will I Hell! It won’t hurt for the new dawn of English rugby to wait for another week.