People will line the streets and cheer, more will watch on television. And, somewhere between the knee-jerk celebration and the mystification of those who missed the event, lies a question. What exactly are we celebrating? Yes, of course we are celebrating victory, champions of the world and all that. We are also celebrating a great drama that united the nation. But that is merely to celebrate ourselves. What is it about the nature of the achievement itself that requires celebration?

Corporate ethic

Every member of the squad, players and back-up staff alike, believes in the idea of being part of a team. You couldn’t speak an admiring word to a player without inspiring a torrent of praise for the other 14 men on the pitch, for all seven replacements and with double rations of praise for the forgotten eight who never made the bench. And then praise for every member of the back-up staff, from head coach to baggage man. Everyone spouted this philosophy because everyone deeply and sincerely believed it. It was a shared thing and that was essential to the nature of the triumph.

Individual brilliance

Or, to put it another way, Jonny Wilkinson. It is the nature of rugby that complex and monumental team effort is ultimately expressed by means of a single man. His is the responsibility for making sure that all that corporate will is actually effective at winning rugby matches. Wilkinson took that on and when it seemed that the responsibility might break him, he grew stronger. In the middle of a corporate achievement, this was a personal triumph.

Artistry

A society without artists is not worth living in. Despite all the Australian gibes about “boring England”, the side possessed the most thrilling artist in the competition. Jason Robinson’s sensational run created the try that devastated Wales in the quarter-final and his try opened the way for England’s win in the final. Rugby is the most disciplined and faceless of team games. It still requires a maverick genius.

Leadership

Martin Johnson’s massive inner strength is a fair match for his outer strength. His uncompromising nature was at the very heart of England’s performances throughout the length of the tournament. If Wilkinson was the pin-up, Johnson was the icon. This was a victory made in the captain’s image.

Generalship

Clive Woodward, the head coach, set out to win the World Cup. He did so with ferocious dedication and clear-sighted intelligence, a combination rarely seen in any sport. He is a master of detail, but possesses a splendidly untamed streak of madness. Which from now on we must call inspiration.

Organisation

The rugby team’s campaign should be a template for the way victory can be achieved by an England team at any of the big sporting events. Considerable sums of money were spent. The back-up team was both massive and immaculately thought-out. It included a lawyer, a referee, a visual awareness coach, a scrummaging coach and a throwing coach. With back-up such as this, no player could find an excuse for anything less than excellence.

Culture

Woodward established a culture of victory. He created an atmosphere in which excellence was simply expected, where the most extraordinary levels of dedication were merely part of the daily environment. You can fail to win because you meet a better side, but if you fail because you have skimped on the preparations, you are worthy only of contempt. For four years, the team trained in that mood.

Bloody-mindedness

Anyone can win when everything goes well. But England played by fits and starts. They were behind against Wales in the quarter-final and failed to put Australia away in the final. Previous England rugby sides, and England teams in many other sports, would have crumbled under the weight of such errors. This England rugby team did not. They expected to win. Bloody-mindedness, Woodward called it. I am inclined to go for unbreakability.

Humility

Humility is essential if you are to learn, because in order to learn you must first confront your own ignorance, your own failings. After the predictably poor performance in the World Cup four years ago (defeats to New Zealand and Australia), English rugby went on one of the steepest learning curves ever seen in a sport. They absorbed stuff from anywhere they could: American football, rugby league, big business. But mostly they learnt from the Australian way of sport, learnt and accepted the hard truth that victory is a right of conquest, not of birth.

Self-certainty

Which is different from arrogance. The two can look pretty similar, but they are at opposite poles. England have for years started one-down whenever the opponents were Australia, no matter what the sport. The England rugby team have turned that around. It was a close-run thing — self-doubt almost undid them — but, in the end, the profound self-certainty of the entire squad saw them through: a deeply corporate triumph that was expressed at the last by a lone individual with the feet of a god.