Realising that he came from one of two countries for which the line “third place [for Britain] at London 2012” had less of an impact, our best response was to quip that it does tend to be harder when you play sports that other countries do as well, instead of just creating a domestic “World” Series…

But there was something particularly humiliating about England’s exit, with their campaign having now concluded with the damp squib of a meaningless final match against Uruguay. It is almost like, and I speak from experience here, over-indulging at your own birthday party and being put to bed before most people have arrived.

Much has already been written about where the hosts fell short, and will continue to be over coming weeks as an inquest is carried out internally and publicly through the media. There is a danger of over-analysing, of course, and it should not be forgotten that Pool A was the toughest in World Cup history, exposing the absurdity of conducting a draw almost three years before competition begins.

Defeat hung on fine margins, and if England had shot for goal instead of opting to throw to the front of the lineout with moments left when three points down against Wales, all could have been different. They were the better team, remember, for much of that match.

What they lacked was a killer instinct.

When push came to shove they would concede penalties and make the wrong decision, whereas their rivals, more experienced both in playing and coaching ranks, would harden-up and refuse to surrender the initiative. This fits with an honest summary on social media by full back Mike Brown, who cited “the breakdown, discipline and being ruthless” as three missing ingredients.

It’s hard to criticise too much when you don’t know what exactly motivated the decisions, but mistakes were also made in selection. England abandoned the attacking instincts that had served them well over the past two seasons by picking six-out-of-10 “steady-eddies” in Owen Farrell, Brad Barritt and rugby league import Sam Burgess rather than the potentially brilliant George Ford and Luther Burrell, who was not even included in the squad of 31.

Toulon flanker and breakdown-expert Steffon Armitage, one of Europe’s best players in arguably the most important position in the modern game, was ignored due to an archaic refusal to pick those based at foreign club teams, while two others in Manu Tuilagi and Dylan Hartley were omitted for disciplinary reasons. I’m not saying taking principals like this is wrong, but it is results which matter, not the moral high-ground, and it is noticeable how other teams re-integrated foreign-based and misbehaving players for the good of the team.

At a deeper level, there seemed something wrong with the mentality of the squad. So strict was the regime that they were seemingly not allowed to go off for a drink or bond at any time in preparations, while there was a rigid obsession, even by the ridiculous standards of modern sport, with being “on message” and preaching the party line. In the Daily Mirror today, the team is described as being on “a marketing campaign with a bit of rugby thrown in”, and players who offered something different, like unorthodox fly-half Danny Cipriani, stood no chance.

Contrast this with Wales, who performed so heroically despite getting to the point where, so great is their injury list, there are basically no more players left to call-up in some positions. Or Australia, of whom a video surfaced of the whole squad standing together arm-in-arm post-match in the changing room belting out “Advance Australia Fair”.

England's plight is somewhat ironic because four years ago in New Zealand, they were never out of the tabloids after a string of unsavoury incidents ranging from "dwarf-throwing" to jumping off a ferry. “They are too old and too amateur" shrieked the same newspapers who are being equally critical for opposing reasons now.

So a balance must clearly be found between maintaining discipline and being able to express oneself, between battle-scarred veterans and aspiring youngsters, and between unpredictable innovation and reliable consistency.

Not easy, but something all great teams are able to manage, not just in rugby.

Perhaps in an individual sport like tennis, so great are the standards today that you can’t really afford any weakness, either in play or personality. Yet in a team it is different and it is about gelling different skills together.

This is true beyond sport as well. Within our team at insidethegames for instance, we have people with very different strengths and weaknesses, interests and opinions, and that is far preferable to everyone being identical.

Part of this is better man-management. Working out who benefits from a kind word in the ear or who prefers a kick-up-the-backside? Who needs to be eating, drinking, sleeping rugby 24/7 and who needs to take more time out, relaxing to recuperate? And most importantly, who can be identified to be calm in the face of battle and to make the big decisions like what to do when you get a penalty on the wing with three minutes to go?

When researching for a story on a failed doping test in football this week, I was shocked to discover that Argentinian superstar Diego Maradona failed two drugs tests in the latter stages of his career, a fact that for some reason I hadn't fully taken in before.

Maradona, like many other superstar athletes, was far from an orthodox player or person and his ilk would certainly struggle to have made the cut in Stuart Lancaster’s England. Yet teams persevered and found a way to fit him in and to my generation, the “Hand of God” moment aside, he is remembered not for his misdemeanours but for being perhaps the second greatest player in history.

There is no obvious figure comparable to Maradona in rugby, where cheating also tends to be of the more subtle kind than handling the ball.

But the team that ultimately ends up winning the World Cup on October 31 will be the one that best blends all these elements, and manages to retain their composure, make the right decisions and produce their best form in the dying moments.

In short, all the skills of champions.