THE WATER has been flowing under the bridge for almost 18 months now, but the images of those days seem as fresh and as cruel as yesterday.
There was the one that showed him with his face half-covered by his hands, barely daring to look at the calamities unfolding before him. Then there were those shots of him blinded by a baleful stroboscope of flashguns as he struggled to find the words he needed in yet another press conference.
Finally, the killer picture. Slump-shouldered and alone as he walked down the Twickenham tunnel for the last time.
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Even the most hardened of hacks can still wince as they recall the very public humiliation of Andy Robinson during those dog days of November 2006, when his return of just one win from four autumn tests on home soil virtually guaranteed the ending of his reign as England coach.
The savage evisceration of such a decent and likeable man was far harsher treatment than any previous England coach had ever suffered, the more so as Robinson's greatest error had been nothing more than to accept the role on the same near-impossible terms that had caused the spectacular hissy-fit exit of his predecessor, Sir Clive Woodward little more than 12 months earlier.
Nietzsche's line about being strengthened by that which does not destroy you can be trotted out in some glaringly inappropriate circumstances, but it came to mind almost unavoidably in the course of a lengthy conversation with the rejuvenated Robinson at Murrayfield last week.
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