Since no-one has seen fit to start one up, I guess it falls to me as a kind of post-hangover tradition.

The Six Nations championship has kicked off with some fascinating duels in possibly the most open tournament for a long time.

England played Italy at Twickenham, though using the verb "play" might be over-dignifying the fare on offer. The Italy coach, Nick Mallett, clearly suffering from advanced dementia, decided it was a good idea to place a flanker at scrum-half (for our American readers, this is a bit along the lines of deploying a half-decent linebacker as quarterback). Bergamasco had the hang of passing to his right (though not actually to anyone) but simply gave up on anything aimed at the left. To be fair, he did do a good job of clearing out the ruck, but this is not quite the job description of a scrum-half and tends to bring down the wrath of the ref. Thus, the Italians spent the first half slowly wheeling rightwards around the pitch.

One might have thought this was going to be a godsend to the England team, and for a while they looked as if they might put Italy to the sword. Italy changed their scrum-half at the break, and as master-strokes went, this one had an unexpected bonus - England fell apart for no discernible reason. Bumbling pointlessness was taken to a level last experienced in the autumn tests.

Ugly game, resulting in a 36-11 victory for England and a lot of anticipation in Wales for next week.

In Dublin, France visited Croke Park for the second time, evoking memories of how they broke Irish hearts two years ago. That year should have been Ireland's second ever Grand Slam (our only one so far was 1948) but Vincent Clerc scored a last-minute try while Ireland were gently asleep. It looks like Declan Kidney has brought some Munster fire to the Irish team, and they had an entirely different look about them.

In contrast to the other game, this was rugby at its best. Crunching tackles, imaginative attacking, wonderful French flair, dogged Irish defence and occasional brilliance for the men in green. We actually looked like we might want to play for Ireland, and there was close teamwork, good skills and real passion. We looked like we might have pulled away just after the half, but the French played hard and drove back to 20-18. I was frantic - I couldn't go through 2007 again - even when we took it to 27, they came back to within that one score margin - and the last minute loomed too large. This time though, we got a penalty quickly and slotted it to make 30-21. Much merriment thusly ensued.

Great match - the only downside is that Louis has disappeared so I can't enjoy the turnabout quite so much. But I know he is hurting somewhere in Paris, and that's all that counts.

Today 'tis Wales' turn to dance with Scotland. Ought to be a formality, but Murrayfield's a hard place in winter and the Scots much improved. It will tell us much about whether Wales against Ireland in March will be the Grand Slam decider. And I have tickets for Cardiff!