I was born into a world in which England were the reigning world soccer champions. By the time I was old enough to appreciate such things, the glory had disappeared, lost to the first in a series of humiliating defeats at the hands of Germany which punctuate my life history as tortuous milestones.

I don't remember England being world champions at any sport more important than lawn bowls or team darts in spite of England's great pride and obsession with all things sporting. I have followed England in every major sporting tournament, all of which have ended with tears of disappointment. Until yesterday.

England dragged themselves sweating, bleeding, and by the skin of their teeth to a well deserved title as world rugby champions. In a game that teetered along a knife edge from start to finish, Johnny Wilkinson's boot finally decided things one minute from the end of extra time.

Yesterday's game was a rite of passage, a rebirth of England's sporting self-respect, and as such it was fitting that it should have been so tough both physically and psychologically. It will inspire English teams for years to come, not only at international level, but also at the grassroots and, most importantly, in our schools. We can now shake the albatross of 'losing gracefully' from our necks and concentrate on the business of emulating this success in other sports.

Many will tell you that 1066 is the most famous date in English history. To our shame, however, the date most prominent in our national psyche is still 1966, the year we won the soccer world cup. Now at last we can give this date, tired from overuse, its proper historical resting place and think of November 22nd 2003 as the day England's sporting pride was restored. Let's hope it inspires many more great victories in the years to come from a generation of children who can grow up with the memory of yesterday's victory to spur them on.