As the two team coaches drove off slowly into the dark Twickenham streets on Saturday night, a lacklustre firework display briefly erupted in the skies above them - a few bright rockets, the odd whizzer, and then nothing much to follow it all up.
It must have felt depressingly familiar to the England supporters staggering off in search of a final pint or two.
While their gold-shirted counterparts were gathered in groups around the spanking new stands, hoisting cans aloft and singing a song or two in support of Wales 130 miles to the west, those in white and red were left bemoaning another performance that promised much but delivered too little.
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When the England team to face Australia arrives back at their team hotel in the leafy, golden Surrey countryside after training, one man is noticeably later than all the rest.
There will be no harsh words from manager Martin Johnson, however, and no disciplinary action, for that man is Jonny Wilkinson, and he is late only because he has stayed behind at training for extra kicking practice.
A lot of talk around the team this week has been about how much the 30-year-old Wilkinson has changed. But in some ways, he is exactly as he has always been.
Steve Thompson, the second of the World Cup 2003 comeback kids in Johnson's XV (Lewis Moody being the third), summed it up nicely.
"Me and Jonny sat down in a pub last week and had a quick beer after training," he said on Wednesday. "You can just tell from the way he is that he's so much more relaxed and happy-go-lucky. Obviously he's still got that focus, but he looks like he's got more of a balance."
There is an intake of breath from all within ear-shot. Jonny had a beer? "Well, I had a beer, he had a Coke," admits Thompson, laughing.
He is then asked which of them, four months into their revitalised continental careers, speaks the better French. "Jonny," he says resignedly. "Of course he does. You know what he's like - everything has to be perfect."
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Such is the injury crisis that has engulfed the England rugby union team this autumn that, when Martin Johnson enters the room, you half expect him to stagger about like a 19th century naval surgeon, his white tunic splashed with blood, a bottle of ether under one arm and a severed limb under the other.
Johnson has seen his best-laid plans and best-known team holed below the water line ahead of this Saturday's battle against Australia. At the last count, 27 men from his elite and Saxon crews were laid up in the infirmary, the hamstrung Mike Tindall the latest to limp out.
You could forgive him for cursing like an old sea-dog. In private, maybe he has. But in public at least, this battle-hardened old admiral is turning a blind eye to the danger signals.
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I'm Tom Fordyce and I cover cricket, rugby, tennis, athletics and - well, most sports except monkey-tennis. You can also follow me on 
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