The old sporting, and indeed show business, maxim of leaving the punters wanting more has never rung truer than with Richard Sharp, who quietly left us earlier this month.

Sitting by the fire in front of our wonky TV – which we did a lot in that Arctic winter of 1963 – Sharp’s miraculous, mesmerising, gliding, dummying run through the Scotland defence at Twickenham was my first conscious sporting memory aged four and half and kick-started a lifelong love affair with the game.
To this day it’s my favourite individual try, both for its virtuosity and aesthetic beauty, nee perfection.
It’s the...