When we were Kings

(Nige) There has always been a certain tradition around trips up to Twickenham to watch England Rugby Internationals.

Firstly, no matter what time we leave, we always seem to somehow arrive slightly too late and have to run for the train.

Secondly, several hipflasks filled with a vast variety of spirited substances have usually been consumed by the time we have to change trains at Clapham Junction.

Lastly, no trip to HQ is complete without the post match supper from Kings Fish’n’Chips.

So it was to our shock on Saturday that we discovered that Kings was no more, it had ceased to be. Bereft of frying it rests in piece!

Like the old South Stand at Twickenham it exists only now in memories and drunken photographs. Both were spectators to the era when England held the World Cup aloft in Triumph, and Fortress Twickenham was impregnable to all invaders.

Perhaps then it is only right that neither was around to see an England team jeered from the field of play by a Home crowd on the day England slumped to a 7-game loosing streak – a 40 year low!

Unfortunately nothing can stay the same forever, and with the World Cup looming on the horizon, it seems certain that the Webb Ellis trophy will not be coming home.

That golden age has passed - leaving us all slightly colder, slightly soberer, and pining for a warm, battered meal with extra vinegar.