Sad implosion of Wasps and Worcester must be warning call for English rugby

We could start with the sheer catastrophic waste of it all. All those years, all those hundreds of millions of pounds squandered. All the fudged decisions and fingers-crossed accounting. The oceans of bullshit, the overflowing reservoirs of self-interest. And yet that’s still not the most upsetting element. Worse is the numbing pain for everyone associated with two disintegrating clubs and the human cost of English rugby’s days of reckoning.

There will be some looking at the travails of Wasps and Worcester and giving a resigned shrug. Of course they were spending beyond their means. Of course that couldn’t go on indefinitely. Of course fingers should be pointed at the stewardship of both businesses. But fundamentally this is about people – specifically the umpteen players, coaches, staff and fans let down by those meant to have their best interests at heart.

A touch emotive? Damn right. Decades ago, I was a frequent visitor to Wasps’ old home at Repton Avenue in Sunbury and grew to recognise many of the qualities that define a great rugby club. Wasps didn’t have much but they were the most welcoming club in London.

They didn’t mind where you came from or care what you did for a living. Instead they chose to operate on the refreshing basis that generosity of spirit costs nothing. Which is why, when they won all those big shiny trophies in the professional era, there was such a feelgood vibe attached.

Worcester Warriors were less successful on the field but were totally embedded in their community. The late Cecil Duckworth poured his heart and soul into the place and the bond between players and fans remained strong right to the end. So to reach a point where other teams are starting to pick at the entrails of both clubs’