By Wednesday lunchtime Jonathan Humphreys appeared to have recovered most of his faculties. He was eating his plateful of grilled salmon and new potatoes with a knife and fork, as opposed to sucking it through a straw, and the scars on his face looked reasonably bearable. Only the unmissable appointment with the physio and the stiff-legged John Wayne walk betrayed the real story.
Those who saw last weekend's 16-16 draw between Leicester and Bath are entitled to ask what pills Humphreys is taking even to contemplate facing Wasps today. Nowadays the 35-year-old Bath captain and hooker usually lasts about 50 minutes before being withdrawn, his weekly duties complete. Such are the former Wales captain's inspirational qualities his club are happy to oblige him, convinced the time he does spend at the front-row coalface is priceless.
But last Saturday's contest, less a game of rugby than a primeval battle of honour, was different. In all it lasted 95 aching minutes and Humphreys was there until the bitter end. Umpteen times the scrum collapsed in a tangle of spiteful limbs and destructive power; on each occasion Humphreys rose unsteadily, folded his prop David Barnes's head into his own ribcage like a master baker kneading a hunk of dough and braced himself for the next hit. When Martin Corry and George Chuter were caught on camera raking the face of an exposed Bath player, there was a certain inevitability about the victim.
So how did Humphreys feel on Sunday morning? Any mother with a son aspiring to play big-time rugby should turn the page now. "It was like I'd been in a car wreck. I didn't sleep much and I remember seeing 4am on the bedside clock. Every time you turn over something's aching ... I don't think you get over it until the following Friday. Mind you, I'm sure the Leicester boys felt the same way."
That last sentence sums up Humphreys; pain is always a relative concept. Wasps, playing at The Rec for the first time since the clubs met at Twickenham in last season's Zurich grand final, will encounter an opponent with an extremely thick skin, wrinkled or not. Even the stamping experience was no big deal: "It did look horrible but I stayed down not because I was injured but because I was absolutely knackered. When I saw it on video I thought: 'Jesus, that looks really bad' but it looks worse than it was." If necessary, he says he will testify on the Leicester pair's behalf.
In short, "Humph" is Bath's Old Man River, still rolling along beside the Avon in his last season before retirement, despite the ravages of time. If not the most naturally gifted of Welsh hookers, he won 35 caps and led his country 19 times, displaying a never-say-die mentality inherited from his father Colin, a former professional boxer. When Humphreys junior tells the bitter-sweet story of his dad's career, it puts even his own resilience into perspective.
"He stood up for what he believed in and he expected that from me. He is still the youngest-ever ABA champion, turned pro at 17 and should have gone to the 1960 Olympics. There were 12 weights and everyone who won the ABAs was supposed to go to the Games. My dad was the only Welshman among 11 Englishmen. Despite breaking a thumb in the semi-final he managed to win, only to be told he had to fight a final eliminator against the guy he'd beaten in the semis. The guy who went ahead of him won a bronze."
Humphreys might have boxed himself had his mother not objected but his father soon realised that rugby demanded similar traits. "He felt that giving your all and not giving in were the most important things, not just in rugby but in life." By the time his son won his first Welsh cap against New Zealand at the 1995 World Cup, the debutant was ready for anything.
"Their front row consisted of Sean Fitzpatrick, Olo Brown and Craig Dowd," he sighs. "I just remember how much Fitzpatrick talked. I've never known anyone talk as much in my whole life. As we ran on he was going: 'Hey, little boy, you're not ready for this, you're not good enough.' He'd just written a book, so I turned round and called out: 'Hey, Fitzpatrick, your book's shit.' The moment I said it, I thought: 'Uh oh, I shouldn't have done that ...'"
His relationship with Fitzpatrick never recovered. "I certainly didn't feel I wanted to talk to him afterwards. I don't think he was that type of person, unlike, say, James Dalton of South Africa who was a fantastic bloke."
These days, though, such massively intense battles occur almost weekly in the Premiership. Humphreys, who collected plenty of scar tissue during his years at Cardiff, concedes Welford Road was "pretty brutal" but relished every second of it. His brow furrows only at claims that Leicester's front row had the upper hand; in his book it was a case of Graham Rowntree illegally disrupting Duncan Bell.
"The only person's opinion we take notice of is [Bath's forwards' coach] Michael Foley. He's one of the best scrummage technicians there has ever been and he was very happy with our forward performance."
Which is bad news for Wasps today. Not only are Bath pumped - "losing to them at Twickenham was extremely hard to take" - but Humphreys is happy to put his body on the line again.
"I haven't got many games left, so I want to get as much out of them as I can. The front-row battle is a lot about egos. You talk about outside-halves and centres having egos but front-row forwards have the biggest of anybody." Age does not weary some people.
Golden oldies
Neil Back
Club Leicester
Age 35
Still going strong, below, and setting the standard for all wannabe England No7s. Now combines playing with coaching Tigers' defence.
Rob Hardwick
Club London Irish
Age 35
One of England's forgotten one-cap wonders, having featured as a replacement against Italy back in 1996. Has now inherited Jason Leonard's mantle as the oldest prop in the domestic game.
Tony Windo
Club Worcester
Age 35
Another front-row survivor still pulling his weight at the top level.
Craig Dowd
Club Wasps
Age 34
Ditched too soon by the All Blacks and a cornerstone of Wasps' title-winning pack last season until struck down by a ruptured achilles.
Luke Gross
Club Newcastle
Age 34
Not only the oldest lock around but, at 6ft 9in, the tallest as well. Only Simon Shaw can stand shoulder to shoulder with the big American.
