As Shaun Edwards went hurtling down the steps, the Twickenham floodlights bouncing off that shining bald head, to berate one of his players for poor positional play in the dying embers of the game, it was hard not to wonder what Rob Andrew was thinking.

It had taken Edwards just a few days back in harness with Warren Gatland to bring about a result that his newly adopted countrymen had been waiting for since, well, since Edwards was a fledgling dummy half making his way in rugby league.

The answer to quite how much this Welsh triumph could be credited to their new coaching team is probably: not a lot.

If you can’t beat a team that is practically throwing or kicking the ball to you in try-scoring positions whilst it decides to do none of the things that had previously had you firmly under the screw, then you shouldn’t be on the field.
But still, you had to ask. What would really have galvanised England after the World Cup? The retention of that uneasy-looking trio of Brian Ashton, John Wells and Mike Ford or an injection of enthusiasm and fresh ideas from, according to every man jack of the Wasps squad, the best coach they have ever worked with.

The Welsh players have the answer to that.

For two out of the three new coaching units in the Six Nations, this was a wonderful beginning. In the case of France, it was a start that bore none of the hallmarks of the Anglicisation of the world’s most skilful side, stamped upon them by Bernard Laporte. Even their No.1s refused to conform to the old regime.

Marc Lievremont and his staff sat in their roll neck jumpers and watched their side recapture a huge chunk of the dash and deftness that had been so totally alien to the teams Laporte used to send out on to the field.

There was still plenty of bash about Les Bleus, but only enough so as not to shackle players whose every instinct is to take risks where others will not even dare to take breath.
But if Edwards and Gatland can scarcely be lauded for masterminding a performance when they had but a handful of coaching sessions in which to get their message across, can Lievremont be immediately hailed as the man who has put the flair back into France?

He admitted himself before the tournament began that even the French themselves didn’t know how to describe French flair. What he knows after Sunday is that, whatever it is, it has begun to creep back into the veins of his players.
So, advantage to France and Wales. Both head home next weekend for the first of three games on their own turf, where wins for each of them next weekend will begin to put meat on the bones of Grand Slam dreams.