Video proves England's Great Escape

The video referee understandably took his time in confirming the try - and that only increased the suspense in true Alfred Hitchcock tradition. It was the longest two minutes and six seconds endured by anyone sporting a red rose.

The tension grew to fever pitch and England feared that glory might be snatched from them as the hi-tech investigator checked for an alleged knock-on.

In the end, the ruling which secured a famous victory came from behind the scenes, delivered by the 'invisible man' - otherwise known as the television match official.

Brian Stirling, a 46-year-old headmaster from Belfast who sent two Fijians packing on his Twickenham debut 11 years ago, maintained a profile before, during and after which was not so much low as positively subterranean.

Never in the name of sport had England's fate hinged on an Irish judge and jury rolled into one, as Mr Stirling transmitted his verdict into South African referee Andre Watson's earpiece.

Clayton Thomas, the Welsh touch judge, had signalled a try as soon as Luger applied sufficient downward pressure on the ball. Watson, whose head was on the block, was not so sure.

'The stakes were too high so I had to be absolutely sure of getting it right,' he said.

'Full marks to Clayton but my concern was whether Luger had knocked the ball forward before getting it down. We have the technology, so why not use it? Brian saw it from one angle, said he wanted to see it from another and then said: "You can award the try".

'I don't know who wrote the script for this one but whoever it was has left me with a few grey hairs which I didn't have before the match.'

Justice, in that instance, had not only been done but been seen to be done and if England were lucky to snatch it at such a late hour, they can justifiably claim to have earned their luck amid the bellowing bedlam of those final moments.

As an example of how to keep your head while a few of the Aussies lost theirs, England's refusal to be gripped by the terrible panic of impending defeat says a great deal about their self-belief and discipline.

In the end they won because they kept their nerve when the Wallabies lost theirs and because their youngest substitute outsmarted the smartest bunch of operators in the game.

What Balshaw did in that final, desperate move was not a last forlorn fling of the hit-and-hope variety but a calculated gamble aimed at exploiting the space surrendered by Chris Latham's sinbinning for a high tackle on Mike Tindall, known in the trade as a coathanger.

With their sledgehammer of a full back pinned to a hook in the touchline wardrobe, Australia would still have managed without him had Joe Roff not failed to find the closest of touches, once Matt Burke marked the last of Jonny Wilkinson's garryowens to the corner. England ran it back and when Matt Cockbain killed the ball, the Wallabies were suddenly down to 13 and pushing their luck too far.

Skipper John Eales, having asked Watson several times in the four previous minutes for a countdown on the clock, prayed that England had run out of time.

To all intents and purposes they had, except that Cockbain's interference left Watson no alternative under rugby law but to allow England to take the consequent penalty and call time when the ball next went out of play.

'That was the last move,' he said. 'There was nothing left on the clock.'

Seizing Matt Dawson's tap, Balshaw chipped the ball perfectly into the in-goal area in the northwest corner.

'Even the best defensive team in the world can be vulnerable,' said the Bath man. 'With their defence coming up and one or two players off the field, I thought it was the right decision to take.'

Balshaw, chosen as cover for full back and wing, had been sent on 15 minutes into the second half with some fairly basic instructions from Clive Woodward.

'Give it all you've got,' the manager told him in withdrawing Austin Healey, and Balshaw's galvanising effect amounted to the definitive example of the term 'impact player'.

Roff had swatted Healey away like an irritating wasp in presenting Burke with the try which would have undone lesser opponents and Roff had waltzed past Healey again when Woodward turned to Balshaw.

Half an hour later, in jumping to the initial conclusion that his team had been lucky, the manager did himself an injustice. He, more than anyone, had stood up to be counted in the long build-up, stimulating England's inner belief with a bold declaration of intent.

Australia hardly missed a trick to slow the game down and neither, to his credit, did referee Watson, his strict control of the stop-watch ensuring that he would not be fooled into losing a solitary second.

A total of 17 minutes of added time from start to finish made this Britain's longest Test match.

The Aussies, hanging on at 19-15 for more than 30 minutes without missing a tackle, used every dodge in the book so that England had to pick themselves off the deck - literally so in Danny Grewcock's case after David Giffin's anaesthetic left hook had put him there.

All the walloping Wallaby received was 10 minutes in the bin. What more do you have to do to be sent off?

Australia won the 1991 World Cup only because Ireland captain Rob Saunders' missed touch allowed them to win the Dublin quarter-final in the dying seconds. How ironic that they should lose this one by missing touch themselves.

What goes around, comes around. How fitting, therefore, that Martin Johnson should raise the cut-glass Captain Cook trophy aloft to the tune of The Great Escape.

And for once there was nothing a Macqueen, in the shape of the Wallabies' inestimable coach Rod, could do about it.