Obsessed with winning the World Cup, Eddie Jones failed to change and it cost him his job. It wasn’t his fault, it was everyone else’s. After trying to prove points, he rediscovered his love for coaching with South Africa, which led to Japan, England, and another World Cup final. He may have lost, but he’s not done. He wants to create the greatest team in the world. And then? He’s off to Hawaii.

“I had those thoughts for sure and, I suspect a few of the other guys did as well, thinking ‘what am I hanging around for? The universe is telling me to move on to pastures new’. But no one’s really seen that as an option.”

Before lockdown, Celia Quansah and Meg Jones were living their best rugby lives. Paid to be professional sevens players, the former heptathlete and 2017 Rugby World Cup finalist had the Olympics in their sights. One Zoom call from the RFU’s Conor O’Shea later, and it feels like it’s all over.

For world-champion coal carrier Phil Ounsley, seeing his daughter haul a bag of carrots around the kitchen was a sign she had a sporting future. He was right. Four years after first picking up a rugby ball, Jodie was offered an England contract and the former cat photographer had set her sights on the Tokyo Olympics.

Three years after losing on his debut to Italy, Serge Betsen rose from the bench against England in the first-ever Six Nations. He was given less than 15 minutes to prove his worth, to prove that leaving him out for three years was a mistake. But, in a haze of emotion, he was sent off almost immediately. France lost, and coach Bernard Laporte told the media Serge would never play for his country again.

At 16, after his dad died, Steve Diamond stepped into his shoes as he was handed his job at the local printers. He was a cog in the wheel of a 2,000-strong workforce, pumping out millions of newspapers a day. Thanks to the union, it was paid well, too, £300 a week by the age of 18. A job for life.

The Stylist front cover changed perceptions, the naked photoshoot was part of a new movement, but a front rower that could play wing at sevens? Now that is something to talk about. Meet Vicky Fleetwood. Game changer.

At 5am, under the watchful eye of the duty master, a schoolboy Brad Barritt stood, statue-still, for a 40-minute uniform inspection. It was old school, in every sense. South African schools were tough, but his father, grandfather and great-grandfather were all Rhodesian internationals, so he was made of sterner stuff.

The leg cracked three times as the weight of the opposing forward sent Henry Slade in the opposite direction to his limb. It wasn’t going to be good. It hurt like hell, but he wasn’t going to have gas and air, not after what happened to Ben White.

This man could’ve been processing your driving licence. instead, he won grand slams, tamed the beast and has just finished the lego friends snow resort hot chocolate van – with a little help from Isla

Frontrower Vez has been targeted, victimised and bullied. He’s had blood spat in his mouth after a tackle; and had rugby ‘fans’ shout everything from, ‘get the fat bastard man off the pitch’ to ‘put her face in mud, let her drown’. And that’s before the endless stream of social media abuse. Vez has considered, ‘not being here’ many times. This is what can happen when you’re a transgender rugby player. And, he says, it needs to change.

Last summer, Alun Wyn Jones took on and defeated his home nations rivals to earn the right to face the greatest rugby side on the planet, the All Blacks, in their own backyard. This year, it’s Play-Doh, colouring-in, and a quarter of a caravan in west Wales. Alun Wyn Jones: Lion, Osprey, Welsh hero, is on holiday.

When eventually Danny Cipriani stopped. When his life stopped going from game to game, club to club, trophy to trophy. When he was on his own, on the other side of the world, for the first time ever, he was hit by depression. Questions about his life he’d never thought or had time to ask, began to emerge to darken his days. Even for the gifted, life isn’t always easy.

When Shaun Edwards first had the chance to coach England, he had no choice but to say no, he wasn’t ready. He spoke to his mum, Phyllis, and they agreed, it was too soon after his brother Billy had died. He needed the day-to-day of rugby to keep him busy. Rugby was what was going to keep him going – he wasn’t going to let his mind get the better of him.

Eyes streaming, face distorted, arms aching and head being forced downwards; the g-force pounds Heather Fisher as she hurtles at 80mph down the fastest and steepest bobsleigh track in the world. She’d learnt every turn, but her mind is blank. Like running through ‘windmills while in a tumble drier’, not even rugby is like this.

He was only supposed to be  ‘holding the fort’ while England scoured the world for their next coach, but Stuart Lancaster had other ideas. He had five matches to prove his worth and he rolled the dice for the first one, selecting eight uncapped players as he started his bid to change the face of English rugby.

In 1987, England hadn’t beaten Wales in Cardiff since 1963. The Welsh No.8 Phil Davies was determined that wasn’t going to change. At only the second lineout of the game, as he tussled with Jon Hall, a single punch from Wade Dooley took him down, shattering his cheekbone. His game lasted less than two minutes, but the Battle of Cardiff had begun.

James Haskell isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. He doesn’t deny it. His girlfriend Chloe doesn’t deny it either. In fact, she admits, she wanted to ‘punch him in the face’.

When Ian finally stepped onto the training field, Owen, only a few yards ahead, turned back to jokingly give him stick for being late. Before the words left his mouth, he saw his friend on one knee; then, a second later, collapsed onto the turf. He rushed to his side, but little did Owen know there was nothing he could do. Ian was gone.

The lift doors opened at the Hilton and Rala, the bag man, gagged and bound on a luggage trolley, was pushed out onto the ground floor packed with Irish fans – that was how Tommy Bowe and Ireland prepared for the biggest game in Irish history.