The Winter Olympics end this weekend, and the greatest lovers of winter sports in the world will probably agree that we have had just about the right amount. The Games have saved the worst till last: the 50km cross-country ski race. It begins with a massed start, it ends in exhaustion of a peculiarly total kind.

Many people, not all of them cross-country skiers, will tell you it is the hardest sport of all. You use every large muscle group in the body, prompting makers of gym equipment to come up with cross-country skiing machines, so you can get all the benefit without getting cold, seeing a beautiful landscape or breathing God’s good air.

Cross-country skiing, together with running, swimming and rowing, burns more calories an hour than any other sport. But it goes on longer and covers more ground. The 50km race is perhaps the greatest ordeal in Olympic sport. At the finish, as one, the competitors fling themselves face-first on the snow. Still, we who have completed our own winter sports marathon in front of the TV know how they feel.

Jonny should have a ball at Twickenham
British sport’s longest work in progress, the England rugby union team, has yet another serious test of their so-called progress this afternoon, when England play last year’s grand slam-winning champions, Ireland, at Twickenham. England, believe it or not, are two fifths of the way to a grand slam themselves, having won both their matches in the Six Nations.

Their job, then, is to show us — and perhaps themselves as well — that this is not a statistical quirk. Ireland are a team much reduced this year, but England’s stuttering victory over Italy two weeks ago did not inspire blind confidence.

As ever, our eyes will turn to Jonny Wilkinson. He had a poor game against Italy, missing three shots at goal, while his tactical kicking made you hide your head in your hands. For all that, he slotted a late dropped goal that halted the Italian revival. He remains one of the most compelling figures in English sport. And as the excellent Gabby Logan said in these pages, his off-day was probably to do with the Mitre ball. I won’t argue with facts like that.

O’Neill would be wise to limit ambitions
Oh yes, and there’s some football as well. There is a thrilling reductionist tendency to make a game involving up to 28 players into a duel between two individuals — not necessarily people who are actually playing.

As such, tomorrow we have the Carling Cup final between Sir Alex Ferguson and Martin O’Neill, with the teams of Manchester United and Aston Villa in supporting roles. The subplot is that O’Neill has often been touted as the perfect successor to Ferguson. Anyone who attempts to follow Ferguson is off his head — a post-Fergie slump is unavoidable, no matter who takes charge. The match will be worth watching for the ineffable Wayne Rooney. Will he be as good in the World Cup finals?

If this football between individuals doesn’t ring your bell, we also have John Terry versus Wayne Bridge, a fixture formerly known as Chelsea versus Manchester City. It brings you Terry, the Chelsea Lothario, against the City cuckold Bridge, who refuses to play for England over the incident. I wonder which team Vanessa Perroncel will support. Most observers agree she has a thing for Chelsea.