After the hype, build up and expectation, England limped out of the Rugby World Cup like a mangy old fox with an unforgiving repetitive strain injury.
I wanted my children to see our sporting heroes become kings.
Instead, we got jokers.
An expectant nation was left disappointed and let down after some pathetic on-field antics and bewildering off-field shenanigans.
A proud rugby fan, I bought Molly a genuine, England pink fluffy supporters’ dressing gown.
Whilst little Jack sat there in his rugby shirt.
He was happy being part of the whole occasion, picking wayward Shreddies from his slippers, oblivious to horrors as they unfurled in New Zealand.
Luckily for Jack he’s too young to remember the pitiful performances we’ve witnessed this year, but I fear for Molly.
She’ll look back on the autumn of 2011 as the time that the entire family was up early at the weekend – and Daddy shouted an assortment of new words at the TV.