The Joy Of Six

The Joy Of Six

1990: Scotland v England Calcutta Cup clash

Stand off all the clocks
Hand off the phone
Line out all those memories
The ones we all co-own
Of who, what, where
Why and when
And if at first you don't succeed
Try and try again

Watch from the wings as the drama unfolds
Throwing a brilliant light across dark winter months
Fuelled by an extreme strain of belief
While understanding at any moment
The rug can be pulled by those unseen hands that lie knuckle-deep in thrown-down gauntlets
Edgy, beautiful and annointed in the slurry
And wrapped in the heavens' embroidered cloth
Tight heads loosen a running stream of consciousness
Of wide men and wide boys, the outstanding standing out on fields of fire
Where possession is nine-tenths of the law

Hearts of like-passions are worn on soiled sleeves
Trading delicate blends of blood and spirit in that common market place
Deliberate in speed and with majestic instancy
Those who hint at great deeds must surely be roused
As that which does not kill me, makes me stronger

Yet tackles crash into the abdomen like a leaded fist
Their heavy application causing both wings to unfurl
While immersed in the comfort of chaos
Line outs line up like reptilian dancers on a hot plate
As friends, Romans and countrymen lend us their cauliflower ears

Degrees of flambouyance marries raw power
And together, surges through the ranks without sentiment or apology
A collective response to outclass and outgun the appliance of defiance
So even those on the back row are completely in tune with Prop Idol
The definitive reality TV

A crimson close-up cut to the face, cuts to the chase
Cue the dummy, the side-step, the killer burst of pace
With handbrake turns
And power slides
The highs convert the lows
Running with the pack
And dropping back
Under psychological blows
Engulfed in competition
Committed and driven
Each half no quarter asked
And no quarter given
Exhilarating innovators
Prophet, seer and sage
Game on, game off, peace on, peace off
Let the nations rage!

So stand off all the clocks
Hand off the phone
Line out all those memories
The ones we all co-own
Of who, what, where
Why and when
And if at first you don't succeed
Try and try again