JOE MARLER: This is really what it’s like to face the scariest thing that can happen to you: falling into the trap of the Springbok gang… and how to beat them at their own game.

As an international rugby player you try not to feel fear. Certainly not as a front row forward. Then you play in South Africa and a scrum is called and suddenly it’s the scariest thing that’s ever happened to you.

Here’s how. You’re going to connect. Then the fight starts in your head. Doubts: These kids are the best in the world, this is going to hurt, if things go wrong, this is going to go really wrong.

Challenges: yes they are the best in the world so that’s exactly where I want to be and if we can get parity or superiority it could be the best thing we’ve ever done on a rugby field.

When you’re up against the Boks, it’s not like any other attack. If you’re struggling, you can get away with it with some international teams. If you get your aim wrong, you can back him up or try to win a penalty.

I am not against this group. If things go wrong, they’ll feed you to the mangle. And that’s a powerful emotion that needs to be swallowed by the intense mix of fear, excitement, and dread. You step in, they push and you try to hold and you think: If I don’t do this right my whole reputation in rugby is going to be destroyed.

Joe Marler explains how as an international rugby player you try not to feel fear – but then you’re playing in South Africa and there’s a scrum call and suddenly it’s the scariest thing that’s ever happened to you.

England will face the World Cup-winning Springboks at Twickenham on Saturday afternoon

Marler has had his share of encounters with the Springboks throughout his international career.

You know how I am. I have a reputation for being a bit chatty on the field. This is true in a way, but only partially: I was terrible at this. I’ve been busy with this throughout my international career, but I’ve never perfected the art. It got me into more trouble.

I figured things out early on. It can be easy to anger South Africans because they take it personally. There’s only one big problem: If you’re a straight-laced bully like me, you soon realize they’re going to give you a new problem in the process.

That was also the case when I tried it out against some of Boxing’s best front-rowers. Harlequins were playing the Sharks in Durban in the European Cup. Mbongeni Mbonambi and Ox Nche were burning.

Ox began to give me a few choice words as he sent us backwards for the third time in three minutes. So I said something to his maternal relative about something I had done.

I didn’t do that thing. Of course I didn’t. But soon I wished I hadn’t pretended to do that thing because things went really bad. I had stirred up the beast within me, and the beast wanted revenge.

While Ox was giving me the evil eye, one of the back rowers approached me. He said, ‘Joe, man, I know you like sledding, but the mommy talk isn’t going so well, especially with Ox.’

These were kind words of advice, but they were completely unnecessary. Even if you were in the parking lot, you would have noticed the form of revenge he wanted to take on me.

A few months later we played the Stormers. We were delayed at Cape Town airport after the game and decided to have a few beers. The sharks themselves were returning. Some of our South African group was invited. So I went to them. I forgot.

Marler said: ‘If you’re a straight-up bully like me, you soon realize they’re going to tear you apart a new bully in the process.’

He described an incident with South African Ox Nche that made him regret his actions.

Then I saw Ox at the other end of the table. There are no words. Just eyeballs. Relentless, incessant eyeballs.

I decided I had to do something about it. So I took a deep breath, walked over, and reached out. I said, ‘Look, man.’ ‘I’m so sorry. ‘I’m doing these things because I’m not as good at rugby as you are, so I’m trying to find other ways to compete.’

What a kind man. We shook hands, bought each other beers, got pretty drunk around each other. And I will never say things like that about the mother of a Springbok front row guy again.

They love the Springboks and the scrum. Their entire rugby DNA is built on this. Of course, they have now added a bit more nuance to their game plan and will attack and offload with width they never did before, but it always comes back to the attack and the power play.

And it might be, because none of us can remember the last time they produced an average front row. Their first choice is world class. Their second choice is world class. Their third choice would be to join any international team.

I played with Wilco Louw in Harlequins a few years ago. He was one of the best tight ends I ever played with or against. And it’s not even close to the scent of the Boxing team. This is crazy.

We’d all like to think we’re adding intensity to the rugby field. You take pride in your energy and passion. Then you meet South Africa and it’s like your first day at primary school after kindergarten.

Although it broke my heart, I loved Chasing the Sun, a documentary about the path to victory at the 2019 Rugby World Cup.

Marler: ‘We’d all like to think we’re adding intensity to the rugby field. Then you meet South Africa and it’s like your first day at primary school after kindergarten.

Marler recalls playing alongside Wilco Louw, who failed to get close to the South African side

There’s a clip of Bongi, Ox and Vincent Koch talking disdainfully about Britain’s ‘plastic energy’. The bottom line is this: You can shout all you want about winning by knockout, but now you have to attack us. Do you still want to celebrate?

I’ll be honest: I secretly love this mentality. If England, as a nation of forwards, could benefit from even a fraction of this aggression, brawling and arrogance, I would be in heaven.

Because it’s not just the front row. Second place giants. The oppressors in the background. Play against the best long enough and you understand the collective power of a group like this.

The massive second-row RG Snyman has a tattoo that says Bomb Squad, along with a logo that looks a lot like Pringles Man. I like. I liked the concept but the font could have been better. I’d go with a character from the old Sega Mega Drive game Bomberman.

I feel an affinity for this place. Some of my family lived there when I was growing up. My father went to the 1995 World Cup and I learned what braai was at a young age.

I was obsessed with singing group Ladysmith Black Mambazo and was devastated when their founder Joseph Shabalala died four years ago.

So I wouldn’t want to be a South African, but I would love to be part of their herd. Imagine being part of a team literally built to attack. Imagine being part of a back eight that doesn’t care about the ball in hand, in fact doesn’t want the ball to be in a proper place unless it’s going over it quickly. These things get into your soul.

Massive second-row RG Snyman has a tattoo on his logo that reads Bomb Squad

England will need to be right on the money at Twickenham to make a difference. If I were in camp this week I would ask Steve Borthwick if we could attack on Monday and spend all of Tuesday brawling and brawling.

You are off on Wednesday. Good morning my baby. On Thursday, forget the science and ignore the GPS data and go old school: mauling, brawling, charging.

I know the counter argument. We need to stay fresh for match day. No. The world’s number one pack is coming to our area, and they’re coming for a bar fight. Let’s get our mindset right and tackle the subject darkly and deeply.

And here’s the reward: When you compete against Boxing and rise above them, the entire psychology of the competition changes. Now confidence flows behind you. They suddenly look confused.

They’re so used to how their power play works that it takes them a while to get used to it when Plan A stops. Even though they have a Plan B, the situation is not that good. It’s not part of their DNA. It is no longer their soul.

Even now, when I don’t play anymore, I get butterflies just thinking about the attack in South Africa. I hope our children understand this correctly.

Don’t let fear win. Be brave. Make it a beautiful thing.

Even if he no longer plays, Marler admits he gets butterflies ‘at the thought of the South African attack’

MY FIVE MOST SCARY COMPETITORS

Will Skelton, Australia – the greatest person I have ever met. When he is fit and form he is literally unplayable!

Vincent Controversy, France – offensive destroyer! I also won my favorite international test ever against France in the Six Nations 2015.

Eben Etzebeth, South Africa – we made our debuts on the same day and he has been the Springboks’ new-age enforcer ever since. How many times a week does he do biceps training?

Bismarck du Plessis, South Africa – scary, abrasive, old-school South African. He even fought with his own teammates!

Peter O’Mahony, Ireland – never knows when to give up. Gobshit too. The ultimate Irish warrior.