Like England, I never saw it coming. Like Danny Cipriani, whose kick was charged down by Ruan Pienaar, I was surprised by the pace of the South Africans.

Like Paul Sackey, who dithered as Jaques Fourie snatched the ball and skated away for a try, I was taken aback by their aggression.

Like Riki Flutey, who was unable to halt a rampaging Danie Rossouw, I was blown away by their power.

And like Delon Armitage, who was fooled by the sleight of hand from JP Pietersen, I was transfixed by the skill of the Springboks.

This wasn't supposed to happen. South Africa had been unconvincing against Wales, only hanging on at the Millenium Stadium courtesy of an interception try handed to them by the hosts.

They had struggled to put away Scotland, saved mainly by the Scottish kickers' fallibility in front of goal. And they had talked all week of mental and physical fatigue at the end of a long and punishing season.

According to the noises emanating from the Springbok camp, John Smit and his players didn't just have one eye on the plane home, they had the other on the beach for Christmas.

On the other hand, England, so we were told, were only getting better. Defeat by the Wallabies the week before was only a blip.

Martin Johnson's rookies, who gave such an exciting glimpse of their potential in launching their autumn campaign with a win over the Pacific Islands, were starting to reap the rewards of an unprecedented amount of time together. They were ready to do some damage to the Springboks.

But in failing to do score a try in a record home defeat, England not only failed to do damage, they failed to do themselves justice.

They could console themselves with any amount of statistics; with 59 per cent of the possession and 57 per cent of the territory, they forced South Africa into making twice as many tackles as they had to make.

They could talk about creating a number of try-scoring opportunities – possibilities would have been a better word – and they could harp on about hanging together, learning curves and brutal lessons till the cows came home.

And now the All Blacks are coming; the best team in the world – an accolade endorsed by the IRB at their awards dinner at the weekend – guided by the best coach in the world – Graham Henry was similarly honoured at the London bash.

New Zealand are looking to win an international for the fifth consecutive week and aiming to return to the Land of the Long White Cloud with yet another Grand Slam under their collective belt.

In complete contrast to England, New Zealand are in fine fettle. They may also be rebuilding – Henry couldn't resist the wry comment at the weekend that as 15 or so of his first-choice players had left New Zealand after the Rugby World Cup, "it's great to have a team that's relatively young and inexperienced come through and do the business".

But, unlike England, they possess, in outside half Dan Carter and captain Richie McCaw, two players who not only would walk into any current world team, but would also have done so for each of the last four years.

Their team-mates – from Mils Muliaina at number 15 to Tony Woodcock at number 1, are teak-tough, by-and-large battle-hardened, creative, confident and used to winning.

Wales flanker Martyn Williams was not damning the All Blacks with faint praise when he hailed them, after their comprehensive dismantling of the Six Nations champions in Cardiff at the weekend, as "efficient".

All he needed to have done was to add the adverb "ruthlessly". Graham Henry's men make fewer mistakes than other teams.

Their set scrum is solid, reliable and durable. Their line-out, perhaps, the weakest part of their game, rarely gets taken to the cleaners. Their defence is implacable, while their skill and strength in the contact area borders on the uncanny.

Their goalkicker doesn't have off-days and their wings are the most prolific pair of finishers in the game.

Individually and collectively, the All Blacks rarely miss a cue. Opposition failings are ruthlessly exposed and transgressions are inevitably punished.

More often than not, possession is turned into position and position into points. Try scoring possibilities become try-scoring opportunities become tries.

That's what doubt-ridden England are up against at the weekend.

They need not kid themselves, as perhaps they did against South Africa, that they have anything but the slimmest chance of victory.

Just as Phil Vickery may have been wrong when he apparently said on Saturday evening that "England can't get any lower", his team-mates will also be kidding themselves if they believe that if they play to their potential, they can beat New Zealand. That won't be good enough.

They've got to summon up the rugby of their wildest dreams – and then exceed it.