England vs New Zealand: Stuart Barnes's Law of rugby commentary - how to never be wrong In the comic book series Watchmen, there is a character called Dr Manhattan, who develops his extraordinary powers as a result of a nuclear accident in the 1950s. As well as superhuman strength, teleportation and subatomic control over matter, one of Dr Manhattan's powers is the ability to perceive the past, present and future simultaneously, and in great clarity. And there are distinct echoes of this in the verbiage of Barnes, whose analysis miraculously manages to transcend time. By predicting events just after they have occurred, Barnes places himself in the fortuitous position of never actually being wrong. In practice, this gift most often manifests itself in an epistemological trick known as Barnes" Law. An example will illuminate. "A salutary lesson in how to play conditions, how to control territory," was his verdict as the full-time whistle blew on Saturday. New Zealand showed in the second half just what a fine team they are. Essentially, then, Barnes" Law boils down to this: the better side won the game because they played better rugby. And the reason that they played better rugby was that they were the better side. So simple, and yet so crystalline. A lot gets made of Barnes's apparent southern hemisphere bias, often interpreted as "anti-Englishness" or some other such indelicacy. I prefer to view it as the inevitable disappointment of a man who sets such skyscraping standards that only a very chosen few can ever hope to meet them. Barnes is not so much anti-English as pro-infallibility. There is a fine but crucial distinction there. "New Zealand are technically superior to England," he confidently announced before the game. Come to think of it, they're technically superior to any team in the world. In retrospect, it was something of an indulgence that they even bothered to play the game at all, given the utter certainty of the final outcome. Then there was the controversy over Aaron Cruden's first-half try, which was awarded without video referral even though replays cast doubt on whether the ball had actually been grounded. "The crowd are booing, but you do not want games lasting for hour after hour," Barnes grumbled. Get on with the game. And in his voice was the evident and justifiable exasperation that often permeates the supremely gifted when forced to explain their genius to mere mortals. Why were we so insistent on playing the game to a finish, when Barnes had already told us how it was going to end? Truly, we were an ungrateful bunch. People accuse Barnes of being overly negative, of sucking all the joy from the game. And yet on reflection, perhaps it is not he who has failed us, but the other way around. Such is his preternatural reading of the game, his effortless synthesis of past, present and future, that maybe we will never quite be worthy. But diligent pupils that we are, we will, as ever, keep trying.