RUDI Koertzen and Billy Bowden strode out to the middle of The Oval. It was a Monday evening, mid-September 2005. The place was packed. Thousands of drunk Englishmen and women had already popped the champagne, or deliriously drowned themselves in pints. However, the outcome wasn’t official yet.
Rudi and Billy had to do their thing. Out they came down the stairs, cheers from the crowd ringing in their ears, TV cameras following their every step, while some bulky security guards ensured no one would try anything.
Out they walked, got to the centre square, turned around, looked towards the change-rooms, then up at the sky, they exchanged words and waved their hands around a bit. “What a performance from these two gentlemen,” Michael Atherton bellowed on commentary.
Rudi took his…