November 22nd, 2003, 500 Englishmen and assorted Aussies and others in a pub down the road from Twickenham, the last minute of extra time, and Jonny hits it with his wrong foot.
I and all I was thinking was "it's not over yet".
Since then it hasn't begun - until Sunday.
The world champions have never taken my breath away like they did in 2001, no one has taken the ball in hand an ghosted through a defence like Greenwood, Balshaw, Healy, or Guscott.
That ended on Sunday.
Strettle, Catt, Geraghty, Flood, Rees.
For the first time in six years England players were offloading, beating men, using their heads, and doing their utmost to keep the ball alive.
For the first time in four years England had a back row.
Rees, Easter, Worsely.
Finally, a back row with the mobility to impact a game. Even Joe Worsely started playing properly again. Picking up the ball in open play and making 20-metre runs like he did when he was 19.
Young players using their heads and their hearts, taking the fight to the six-nations favourites - and out-classing them. Possession, territory, phases, passes. England beat France on every stat.
Two tries to nil, running rugby, an attack from your own half that results in a try.
It might have only been one game, but, as Geherty went past his fifth French defender, in Flood's offloads, in Catt's awareness, and in Rees' ever-present destruction and ball-carries there was hope.
Of course, some things haven't changed since 2003 - Jonny was injured and Tindal still hasn’t realised there are men outside him.
But there was potential in that performance, I could dream again.