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On Saturday, approximately the 94th new era that I can recall in the history of the England rugby team duly dawns. This one is slightly different in that for the first time ever, the England coaches cannot make excuses about abysmal performances by blaming the system or the lack of time they have together.

Here and now, I declare my chief fascination about this autumn: it is the testing of my theory that it is not remotely certain that teams which spend longer in camp necessarily improve. England will have been together for nearly two weeks before they play the Pacific Islands and by the end of this autumn, given all their gatherings, they may well be sick to the back teeth of the sight of each other.

Let’s put it another way: there is always something else you can tell your team. If you really want to take your preparation to the ultimate degree, you can tell them what eyelet on the tongue of their left boot you would prefer them to use when kicking the ball from outside of their own 22 in the final quarter, provided they are playing down wind and the opposition is less than 11 points ahead.

The problem is that there is surely a point when the extra preparation merely causes confusion and takes away decision-making and spontaneity in the team.

Naturally, one would hope that the current England coaching group prove themselves to be so outstanding at their art that they can spot that precise moment when the squad threaten to go into a state of over-preparation. But I have seen so many teams with limited preparation play with such verve, freshness and clear heads that I am more than ever convinced that longer does not mean better.

There is also the state of mind with which you approach the game, as well as with which you play. I have encountered many top rugby teams sitting around dull hotel foyers assuming that they are improving their game simply by sipping coffee, posing in their sponsored kit and waiting for something to happen.

Freshness is a mental state which helps you make good decisions when you are playing; it is also a state which is sapped from you simply by familiarity and by a lack of mental stimulation. Pennyhill Park, England’s headquarters, may be a palace in hotel terms. But I am sure that you can become bored stiff in palaces, as well.

It will be interesting to gauge England by a freshness factor, as well as the points they post on the scoreboard.

Galloping one-horse towns

When they announced that New Zealand would host the World Cup in 2011, they said that this gave the tournament “a stadium of four million”, a reference to the nation’s population. It’s such a shame, then, that when you take away the metaphors there is nothing left, due to the chronic lack of a single serious rugby stadium in the whole country – when compared to modern stadiums in top sport elsewhere.

The tournament is expected to make a loss, denuding the coffers of the International Rugby Board, and its development programme and logistics are also set to be something of a nightmare.