IT'S been hailed their greatest hour, even their version of the World Cup final.

The ferocious tacklers of Samoa came within 20 minutes of inflicting a hammer-blow to England's hopes of rugby union World Cup conquest in Australia. But 20 minutes is a long time in international rugby during which time a team can eventually get their act together as England finally did.

Much has been made of England's toil and trouble. They did not play well. Too many key personnel had a horrendous off day in Melbourne. They were shapeless and listless, especially for that first hour.

All valid criticisms, but to harp on about a largely lethargic display from the pre-tournament favourites does a massive injustice to Samoa.

From the first kick they were smack straight into England's faces, clearly unfazed by the cloak of invincibility England had donned as the globe's leading power for the past year. Samoa were vibrant, venomous, nervelessly full of verve. Even if the game got away in the final quarter, their contribution to easily the best collision of the World Cup so far was immense.

But the south seas islanders' stirring endeavours - a Samoan missile which almost detonated the relentless bid by Clive Woodward's men for the game's ultimate prize - need not be a one-off. They need not be consigned to that chapter of plucky underdog.

One more heave, one more hurrah, one more tackle-frenzy and Samoa could still provide the biggest shock of what is inexorably wheeling into a predictable tournament.

Samoa's final Pool 'C' fixture is against South Africa in Brisbane next Saturday. The winner takes it all as they will then join England in the quarter-finals. And what a massive lift it would be if the flying might of Samoa were to prevail for 80 minutes so as to send a recognised superpower back home before the knockout stages kick in.

It would do the game wonders if one underdog were still able to snap and growl among the last eight.

Rise up Samoa, your destiny still awaits.

ONE suspects that if a black cat crossed Peter Reid's path - the feline species not the Mackem sort - then it would be one just about to plunge down a manhole into the jaws of a gin-trap.

The luckless Leeds United boss, who has been saddled with arguably the most thankless task in football since Bobby Charlton's crimper, was sent a whiter shade of grey by a well-worked offside trap rendered ineffective by a stupid law.

With the game at Anfield poised at 1-1 Liverpool had no less than three players rooted offside as Danny Murphy's woeful free-kick squirmed under the grasp of humbled goalkeeper Paul Robinson and into the net. A Leeds trap - honed on the Thorp Arch training field - had been perfectly sprung.

Yet on the day the clocks went back to officially end British Summer Time, the onset of Winter proved even more bleak for Reid and his Leeds' charges.

Referee Jeff Winter waved aside the raised flag of one of his linesmen - damn that assistant referees' balderdash - later explaining he did not think the Reds' trio were interfering with play.

For once an official did actually confront the media to explain his decision, though whether that is more to do with Winter's affection for the light of the television cameras is up for debate.

But as the late Bill Shankly once barked: "What's a player doing on the pitch if he isnae interfering with play?"

So, to get rid of all the grey areas - worsened by interpretations whether a player is now passively offside - let's scrap the whole thing. If anyone is offside then they are offside - no question, no debate, no doubt - just plain old offside.

Updated: 11:15 Tuesday, October 28, 2003