It was surely no coincidence that Lawrence Dallaglio looked as happy and contented at Twickenham yesterday as he has done in ages. By relinquishing the chains of leadership on his own terms, England's latest former captain has achieved what top sportsmen rarely do and, judging by the smile on his partner Alice's face, he has also earned a bucket-load of domestic brownie points.
As with Paula Radcliffe, however, the idea of one of our sporting heroes bailing out with the race less than fully run does not always sit comfortably with the ever-demanding English public. Dallaglio, still only 32, has been captain of a side in transition who desperately need some stability at the top; by stepping aside at a time when Sir Clive Woodward's future is also uncertain, he has left England in a tighter spot than the Rugby Football Union would prefer.
It also requires a considerable leap of faith to put the two biggest rugby headlines of the year side by side and insist there is no connection. What is clear is that, having achieved their hearts' desire by winning the World Cup, English coaches and players alike have been mulling over the post-Sydney meaning of life. In Dallaglio's case, not unlike Radcliffe's, it would appear the mental pilot light which gave him the inner strength to cope with a murderous playing schedule has been extinguished over the summer.
Far from expressing regret, the thrust of Dallaglio's farewell message after 73 England caps, 22 of them as captain, was how good his decision felt. "It was the right decision and the right time for a number of reasons," he said. "Every time I thought about it the same decision kept coming up. Inevitably, when England play there will be a feeling of 'I could still be there', but I've got incredible memories of playing rugby for England. It's been a wonderful chapter of my life, but I'm now very excited about the next one.
"The key for me is owning my own time again. I don't believe under the current structure of northern hemisphere rugby that you have any ability to make decisions for yourself. It is a treadmill. If the players were contracted centrally then possibly I might not be announcing my retirement today. But you can't keep having the type of season I've had over the past two-three years."
He is right about the lunatic schedule, but some will still find it hard to square Dallaglio's wish to step off the aforementioned treadmill with making himself available for a lengthy Lions tour to New Zealand next summer and ploughing on for London Wasps for two more seasons. It is also hard to see how Woodward can pick Dallaglio for his tour party based purely on club form. The Wasps captain, who denied any behind-the-scenes row with his international coach, clearly still wants to go, but no longer covets a weekly season ticket on the "emotional roller-coaster" boarded by all those who aspire to the brutally physical summit of the sport.
"You can't just walk around being a rugby player 24 hours a day every day," he sighed, also rejecting the thesis that five defeats in England's past six Tests had tipped him over the edge. "I would imagine it's the same as preparing for a boxing match. You don't walk around being that person all the time. Eventually you want to get back to being the person you really are. Which is not the same person I am when I'm playing rugby every week.
"It's not a cop-out. The reasons for my decision are not based on England's last four or five results. It's easy for people to point at those and say I must have become disillusioned, but I haven't. In a sick sort of way I really enjoyed the [summer] tour because it was a huge challenge. But I've made a decision for myself and the people around me. I did consider it after the World Cup when a number of my peers were also retiring, but it was mid-season and I didn't consider it was the right time. At the end of the season you get a slightly clearer view."
Such sweet expressions of serenity will cut little ice over at the Sunday Times, which pays Dallaglio a tidy retainer as a columnist and would have hoped to headline his retirement in last weekend's pages, in view of the fact that he made up his mind a fortnight ago. Having lost his sister Francesca in the Marchioness disaster, however, Lawrence Bruno Nero Dallaglio learned long ago that life is too short for regrets.
