IF ONLY England could play like Alex Murphy talks. Punchy, confrontational, aggressive, confident … different. Murphy, possibly his country's greatest player, reminded 200 guests gathered before the Australia versus England match in Melbourne on Sunday night that his Great Britain teams won Ashes series in Australia in 1956 and 1962.

"I hear nought from you Aussies about that," he said, reminding us that Kangaroos folklore tends to focus on victories won in England, ignoring defeats in Australia. If Murphy had transmitted his spirit and swagger to the current England team moments before the players took the field against Australia, perhaps the result might have been different. Instead, England looked beaten before they began. Intimidated and submissive. A team sitting in a dentist's chair bracing for the drill before it arrived.

England's Australian-born coach Tony Smith has been working for a year inculcating the Australian way: a clinical, composed, patient style of play that worships at the altar of the twin gods of the modern game - completion rates and field position. Sure, maintaining possession and playing the opposition down the other end of the field usually guarantee success but Australia have been sophisticating this game plan for a long time. The England team must dare to be different.

England play New Zealand tonight in Newcastle with one team certain to play Australia in the final on November 22. The Kiwis, under coaches Stephen Kearney and Wayne Bennett, play a style too close to Australia's technologically ridden, almost militaristic approach to give the public what it seemingly wants, certainly in terms of the joy fans showed at the "throw-it-around" style of the South Pacific and Celtic teams.

The Australia versus New Zealand game was a snorer; Australia's 52-4 victory over England was saved only by the sublime skill of players such as Billy Slater and Greg Inglis. Melbourne crowds always rise to Slater's length-of-the-field runs and Inglis's acceleration and fends. But fans in the northern states are sending signals they want something less clinical and more explosive.

Only England can provide a combination of both to challenge Australia. The last time the Poms played with mongrel and a game plan to exploit Australia's weaknesses - at the Sydney Football Stadium in 2006 - they won 23-12. England's then coach, Brian Noble, spent hours with Sports Data - a company that provides statistical information to NRL teams - and devised a strategy to upset Australia. The plan is still valid - be aggressive from the kick-off, capitalise on the defensive weaknesses of the Australian centres, force the halves to tackle and kick downfield to circumvent Slater launching a demoralising kick return.

Australia's halves pairing of Scott Prince (9) and Darren Lockyer (12) made a total of 21 tackles in Melbourne, not a tally that indicates England were trying to sap their attack. Centres Inglis and Israel Folau weren't challenged, despite their youth and the fact they were playing alongside new wingers. Inglis rarely talks in defence and Folau commits himself too late when faced with an overlap.

There's no point running at hooker Cam Smith, simply because he has a body that earns him the nickname "The Accountant" and he stands in the middle of the field. He made 50 tackles against New Zealand and 30 against England.

Insofar as Inglis, Folau, Slater and Smith are pivotal to victory, England would be advised to study the video of Melbourne's losses to Newcastle and Manly, even the Warriors.

Newcastle coach Brian Smith, the brother of England's Tony, was the first NRL coach to cast the Storm to sea. Right from the kick-off the Knights did the unexpected, with former Melbourne prop Ben Cross - educated in the Storm's no-error game - throwing a ball blindly backwards for Newcastle's shock early try. Newcastle's kicking game also drained the Storm, putting the boot to the ball early in the tackle count and sending it in unexpected directions. Manly's chasing game in the grand final was Exhibit A in the case of how to counter Slater.

The only time England challenged Australia in Melbourne was a 10-minute period before half-time when they abandoned the regimented, structured style so beloved of NRL coaches and threw the ball about, yielding their only try. OK, they can't play like this for 80 minutes. One set of six tackles in the England half - in the second half - was possibly the worst set ever seen in international football. The ball touched the ground on every tackle. The organisational skills of the halves appeared non-existent, yet the foundations of an England game are there, evidenced by the victory of Leeds over the Storm in the World Club Challenge in February.

England don't know how to wrestle but they can dance. In February, the Rhinos held the Storm ball-carrier upright, allowing time for the defensive line to reset. In terms of slowing down the play-the-ball, it's as effective as the wrestle, a tactic not in the England game.

Niggle used to be part of England's game, until Australian coaches culled it in the same way American basketball coaches in the 1970s took charge of our national teams and killed the local aggression, exposing us to defeat at the American seven-foot-high game. Internationally, basketball in this country is still a lot further back than niggle, a tactic the Warriors resurrected to beat Melbourne.

If England's Adrian Morley plays with sustained niggle, who will confront him? Queensland's gentleman pairing of Steve Price and Petero Civoniceva, or God-fearing Brent Kite?

Somewhere between the assembly line discipline of Australia's brilliant left-field attack and the Pacific-Celtics' desire to surprise and be spontaneous is a rugby league game the fans seek. Hidden in the England kitbag, among DVDs of the NRL, witch's hats to mark out a touch football field and Murphy's Book of Niggle, such a game plan exists.