As the fallout from England’s failed RWC campaign continues, I have to admit that, being British, I am a tad uncomfortable when big, roughty-toughty rugby players feel the need to bear their souls in public.
First we had Danny Care publicly bemoaning the fact that he had been dropped as first choice scrum half last year:
“I didn’t really understand the decision behind it and it did hurt (sniff, sob).”
We then had Mike Brown declaring a lack of trust in his England team mates:
“I think the trust has been, as you can imagine, completely shot now (sob, sniff).”
And now we have Luther Burrell declaring his devastation at his (admittedly undeserved) non-selection for the squad by Stuart Lancaster:
"He let me down…that is how I feel about him (sniff, sob, sniff).”
When did rugby players ever feel the need to talk about their feelings?
Whatever happened to stoicism?
Whatever happened to just rolling up your metaphorical sleeves and just getting on with it?
Whatever happened to the good old British stiff upper lip?