England prop Dan Cole talks scrums and the 2015 World Cup

Ahead of the World Cup, Leicester Tigers and England's Dan Cole talks to Graham Simmons about propping, porridge, American foreign policy, his laundry boy at the England team hotel and why hooker Tom Youngs feels like part of the family.

Who in their right mind would be a tight-head prop? I mean, really. Referees are always nagging you, journalists never listen to you, small children in supermarkets point at your ears, you can never, ever, find a pair of trousers that fits you properly and you bleed a lot; in short, it is not a glamorous line of work, which is presumably why Dan Cole finds it so appealing.

"Would I rather have been a wing?" he says, as though the question is an affront to his very existence, which, on reflection, I suppose it is. "Of course not. What for? We have far too much fun in the front row. At Leicester, we've our own coffee club and we sit together at lunch. Why would I exchange all that for fame, fortune and good looks?"

Strong in all areas

There is something wonderfully masonic about life at rugby's chalk-face. Once upon a time, the aforementioned Leicester Coffee Club - on the back of a couple of espressos too many, perhaps - seriously considered petitioning the IRB to scrap the entire law book and turn the game into one 80-minute scrum. Indeed, the idea is still kicking around somewhere in the murkier corners of the Welford Road dressing room.

"The ball, for example," says Cole, warming to his theme.

"Is it really that essential? I go through plenty of games where I don't even see it, let alone touch it. Do we really need one? I mean, sod the backs."

Dan Cole is the kind of character who gives the front row its unique flavour and - given he's stronger than an acre of onions - a little bit more besides. Indeed this World Cup, he is - famously - the sheet anchor of England's scrum and - perhaps less famously - an increasingly influential presence on the white side of the ruck.

"A few years ago, a lot of us in the front five tried to get to every breakdown, whereas now it is about making an impact. It's better to be effective at one and miss two than just be crap at three. The scrum? I'm sure it'll be a vital part of this World Cup but then again the likes of Michael Cheika know northern hemisphere rugby well and understand the importance of the set-piece, so we can't go into games thinking we can just batter a team up front. We've got to be strong in all areas."

Cole - like many in his singular profession - insists that he became a prop by accident. "I spent too long hanging around dour, old men and ended up becoming one," he says, although he cheerfully accepts that if propping looks painful, that's because it is.

"If the game's on Saturday, then Sunday isn't too bad but Monday you're stiff everywhere - neck, shoulders, lower back. I reckon you're starting to come round by Thursday, but you've just got to manage yourself well. You're never 100% going into a game, so it's a question of staying as fresh as you can."

England expects

And that means mentally fresh as much as physically - not easy when it's 'your' World Cup and the bubble of expectation is burgeoning - which is why, in the padded cell that he shares with Chris Robshaw at England's five-star training camp in stockbroker Surrey, Dan Cole tries to keep the mood light.

"Living with the skipper?" he says, choosing his words carefully. "Well, it's a lot better than sharing with Toby Flood. I roomed with him for ages and there were cosmetics everywhere. Chris is actually very thoughtful, so whenever he goes to fetch his washing, he brings mine too. Basically, though, I'm just sleeping my way to the top."

Everyone else's memory of New Zealand is the bad stuff. It would be nice to end this one with a positive legacy.

He did squeeze a couple of days away from the tackle bags and flip charts last month for a wedding in darkest Norfolk - his own, as it happens. He married Isobel in the splendidly English setting of Melton Constable, thereby becoming distantly related to Tom Youngs, given Mrs Cole is his cousin. (Indeed, if you want to take this one tenuous step further, Isobel is a florist and Joe Marler's partner is a Daisy - with a capital 'D' - so it's not just scrummaging that unites the England front row.)

"The honeymoon was only 24 hours, unfortunately," says the bashful bridegroom, "and we spent most of that tidying up after the reception. We'll get away at some stage but I'm not sure when: World Cup, Europe, Christmas and New Year in the Premiership, Europe again, Six Nations, club knockout games and a tour to Australia with England." He pauses and scratches his head. "I think they're trying to make men of us."

In a position that lends itself perfectly to life's eccentrics, Cole exemplifies what the best props are made of. This is a man who eats porridge ahead of home games and spaghetti Bolognese before away games - don't ask - and, for light reading, devours the works of philosopher, linguist and cognitive scientist, Noam Chomsky, who once wrote that 'the intellectual tradition is one of servility to power and if I didn't betray it, I'd be ashamed of myself'. You wonder how often that sentence has been dunked into a skinny latte at the Leicester Coffee Club.

"I just find him interesting," says Cole. "He gives you the other side of the story on things like American foreign policy. This is getting a bit deep, isn't it? Let's just say he's not very complimentary."

Rest assured, Stuart Lancaster will be all too complimentary about the value of Dan Cole in the coming weeks; off the pitch, he is the breath of fresh air that England will need in the claustrophobia of a home World Cup and on the pitch, none of the likely starting XV against Fiji will have more caps in his locker - 52 and counting - than the Leicester Tigers' tight-head. Indeed only six others - Youngs, Lawes, Wigglesworth, Haskell, Wilson and Wood - know what it's like to be a part of a World Cup, albeit the chaotic one of four years ago, and the urge to put that right burns deeply.

"Everyone else's memory of New Zealand is the bad stuff," says Cole. "It would be nice to end this one with a positive legacy."

Amen to that.