The blood on that patch of green that will be forever (or at least the foreseeable future) Twickenham is barely dry, the victors have returned with the crockery and the Brits are still wondering what happened.
For us though, life is much harder. We small band of brothers* cannot boast of adoring fans. No one pays us obscene amounts of money for our athleticism and there is a lamentable dearth of sponsorship from the manufacturers of beer and pizza. Well, anyone actually.
*The word ‘brother’, of course, includes both genders – we might be a lot of things; but sexist is not one of them.
But not for one nano-second will we allow that to deter us. We shall continue to wreak mischief and mayhem upon the intentions of the Old Masters. We shall continue, without acclaim, without reward – and quite possibly without a laugh also. No matter, today it’s Fans van Mieris’ (the Elder) turn. However, fear not – we’ll get around to the whole family in the fullness of time.