The three England games that I have just been through are the first autumn series I have played in since 2002. I have watched all the others and so I know what it is like to be on the outside. I say this because I want to explain how I feel about criticism and what it is like to be on the wrong end of it.

First of all, one specific: I understand it has been suggested that, as a fly half, I haven’t played as flat as I did in 2003. My response is simply to say that were we still playing the 2003 game plan, it would be a reasonable comparison. But we are not. Having been on the outside, I realise that it can be difficult to make accurate comments when you are not aware of the specific details on the inside.

But more generally, in that period when I was injured after the 2003 World Cup, I started helping my Newcastle Falcons team with defence and defensive drills. It was only later that I would understand that, when you are not a player, you gain a certain invincibility because you are talking about something without having to execute it yourself. So your word becomes very powerful; it was unbelievably easy to say: “do this or that”, or to pick apart mistakes and missed tackles.

It was later when I was fit and started playing again that I felt particularly nervous because I felt a real fraud. There I was with this title of defence coach and suddenly I was out there, sometimes being wrong-footed, sometimes making mistakes or missing tackles of my own. That experience taught me, first of all, how quickly you can suddenly change roles and become someone on the outside rather than a player on the inside. I also made a mental note: that I will always empathise, or remind myself to empathise with those who are playing.

It was similar during all those autumn series I missed. I’d have conversations with people going into those games — Jamie Noon, Toby Flood, Mathew Tait — and you say “good luck” to them, then you watch the game on TV and you find yourself saying to the players: “do this, do that, you should have done this, why did you do that?” I know how easy it is to forget.

Coming back six years later, I have been reminded what it is about — total sacrifice for the team and the good of the team. Everyone — the fans, the media — is entitled to their own opinion, but when you are involved on the inside, you have so much respect for everyone with you and I guess the criticism is harder to take when it comes from former players who have forgotten that.

Because the outside is a million miles away from the inside. The nerves, the team meetings, the not being able to eat, the coach trip, the dressing room, the pressure — never mind the playing — that is all miles away when you are not inside it. The most honourable thing to do is to put your neck on the line for your team and, when you are on the inside of a selfless team like that, I feel very protective when that team and those bonds are attacked.

But I insist — honestly — that when you are in an England squad like this, the media pressure is not quite what people might perceive. Of course there are some people in the team who will read the papers and talk a bit about it and there are those at the other extreme like me. But the real pressure, the ultimate pressure is from within. That might have the whiff of a cliché about it, but with us it is very true. We are super-proud and we all feel that same twist in our guts, the same desire to do well every single time we play for England.

Every game we play is the most important one and you cannot let yourself or your team-mates down.

So you are not playing to make the critics happy. You are out there to play, to honour the bonds you have forged with your team, and the opinions about you that you really care about are from the small group of people — coaches, team-mates, family, close friends — who have helped you to get where you are.

Does that mean that I would never be a pundit? I do doubt it, largely because I would be a very bad pundit. What people want these days are black and white opinions, good and bad, heroes and villains, the best player, the best team. And I just don’t see rugby like that.

I could maybe contribute technical analysis, explaining what is going on. When Martin Johnson did some TV work, that was one occasion when I turned up the volume because his analysis was good and he didn’t feel the need to say that some players were poor and some were brilliant. I hope I would be like that. And when a millions miles away, I hope I would remember what it is like on the inside.

Times online