WHEN Danny Cipriani came round after being floored by a punch from Josh Lewsey during a Wasps training session last Tuesday, he found that various conclusions were already hardening. First, it had been a decent punch. “Not at all bad for a back,” one of the Wasps forwards pointed out.

Furthermore, I am sure that, once they had satisfied themselves that Cipriani was recovering well, the Wasps coaches realised their chances of beating Castres at High Wycombe today in the Heineken Cup had gone up more than a notch.

Those who were adamant that Ian McGeechan and Shaun Edwards should consider disciplinary action against Lewsey failed to understand the coaches, or indeed understand Cipriani or Lewsey (the pair made up soon afterwards when Cipriani called Lewsey). Neither did they understand professional rugby, where training edge is all.

The main theory being advanced to explain the incident is that Lewsey was unloading the frustration of his recent career – he was injured before the 2007 World Cup final and missed it, was discarded by England last season, has spent another year longing to be picked in one position and been scattered round the different jerseys like confetti. “It doesn’t matter what I say,” he said recently. “It always falls on deaf ears.”

More recently, there has been his alleged poor form. He has made a few garish errors, and two charged-down kicks led to opposition tries in this rather gory Wasps autumn. You may also have read the opinion that he is fighting for one place in the England squad for the autumn, up against Nick Abendanon and Mathew Tait. It seems that his frustration must be bitter indeed. No wonder he lashed out.

Except that the insinuation is a slur. As regards the incident, Lewsey is definitive. “I have made no comment, I won’t be making any, the overwhelmingly important thing is for Wasps to start winning.” It is also important to consider the relationship between the two players. “Josh has always been the man closest to Danny,” a senior Wasps player told me on Friday. “Josh has helped him through some of his problems, and don’t forget that Danny’s dad doesn’t live in England and so if anything, as far as rugby goes, Josh has been the father figure. Let’s face it. He’s old enough.”

Lewsey burning with frustration? Nonsense. Last weekend, he led a training session for a large group of under15 players at Maidenhead in Berkshire. It was a foul day and he had already led an earlier session down the A4 at Abbey. Frankly, the Pied Piper would not have been at the races. Lewsey interacted with the boys so powerfully, so beguilingly, that he held their unanimous attention, something which coaches of 15-year-olds long ago deemed impossible. He was sharp and direct when they played badly, but his enthusiasm, ideas and sense of fun came across. So did his even temper and his humility. Days later, the boys were still bubbling.

His reward, on a very rare day off, was one cup of tea, and if he gave any sign in the course of a rather leisurely consumption that he was frustrated with life and spoiling for a fight, then I missed it – although in passing, it is my opinion that he should be.

With respect, I regard the selection last year of Lesley Vainikolo over Lewsey as the most appalling decision made by England in the past 25 years. There is also a wearying inevitability in the premature espousal of the cause of the usual young gang of early-season bolters yet to become acquainted either with reality or consistency at an elite level.

Lewsey for me is one of England’s greatest and hardest postwar backs, a World Cup winner, a man good enough not simply to play in successful elite teams but to change the course of matches at the most rarified levels (Tests, Heineken Cup and Guinness Premiership finals) with his brilliance – remember the uncompromising tackle on Mat Rogers in England’s win over Australia in the summer of 2003 that followed fisticuffs between the pair, below. The whisper from the England camp is that his most recent athletic test results are sensational. And to say he’s playing badly at present because he had two kicks charged down is preposterous. It happens.

Yet not even in private would Lewsey be goaded. He is anxious that he is given a decent chance by Martin Johnson’s new England, but also that the team itself should become the pride of the nation again. And he is desperate for Wasps to become themselves.

In the moment of petulance which floored Cipriani, I doubt that Lewsey was venting a personal frustration. I find Cipriani a brilliant talent, a likeable and awesomely dedicated young man. And I would not for a moment call for any drive towards grey conformity, because the essence of the player emerges in the essence of the man. I do not consider a shandy in a nightclub and a rather attractive lady on his arm to be a slide into the celebrity gutter.

Perhaps last Tuesday, Cipriani’s wonderful confidence spilled over into a momentary arrogance. Yet whatever was the power behind Lewsey’s punch, I judge it to be allied to Lewsey’s fierce pride and commitment to the Wasps collective, his sense of professional hurt that they have slipped. This is not a man prone to petulance, or one striving against the advance of the years to prove himself. If you consider his personal achievements, you wonder what is left to prove.