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It is time for another rugby lesson.
They often say that the great thing about rugby is that it is a game for all types - all physiques, all abilities and all genders - and that is true except that if you are lacking in character you will not get very far. Nor will you without understanding that it is all a game and the rules are what they are.
Rugby has lots of bits to it. The passing bit, the kicking bit, the running bit but there is no bit more beautiful and artistic than the scrummaging bit. The most important bit of the scrummaging bit is done by the three short, more stocky types in the front row who when they are not scrummaging throw pianos off hotel balconies. The front row types will not generally want to engage in a discussion of the poetry of Rimbaud but will, if you need it, bite the head off your sick ferret or drink your unwanted Brut. They are the salt of the earth and spend much of their life with their backsides in the air like ratting terriers in oestrus, their bodies supported only by necks wider than their heads, their hands clawing at the ball that your side needs if it is to win. Sometimes the other side won't let them have it straight away and they have to try several methods of getting it which can sometimes mean asking nicely, sometimes quiet persuasion and ever so occasionally being a bit insistent!
Even people who care little about rugby can admire the passes of Catt, the kicks of Wilkinson or the runs of Lewsey and that is fine because (see above) rugby is a game for all types. But because they do not understand that the likes of Catt, Wilkinson and Lewsey cannot weave their artistry without the ball, they do not care much for the very much more exquisite grace with which the ball is won. Fair weather fans wince at the collision of the pachyderms but they do not understand that this is what the game is really about and that it is a contact sport and by definition adversarial. That is the point and everyone involved knows that that is the point and even when it is quite rough don't mind.
If you happen to be one of those who thinks rugby is all about running around the pitch unhindered only to drop the ball near the try line and break your stick-on nails then you cannot appreciate that even in its most aggressive moment - the clash of the front rows in the set scrum - there is art and artistry. In a fraction of a moment some three tons of force are resolved and the outcome hinges on the angle of a head, the turn of a shoulder, the choreography of the pack and the precise direction of the push. It hinges on some darker arts too like the occasional readjustment of a binding which can mean a clenched fist or extended digit brushed against an eye in the shadows the referee's gaze can never penetrate. For fainthearts, it can all seem a little crude and aggressive and over passionate but (see above) it is what the game is about and that is that. Change it and it is not rugby.
Highlight of the week was last Saturday and our competition based around the apology of our High Commissioner in Nairobi, Edward Clay. You'll remember he had a go at alleged corruption in Kenya - but subsequently said he regretted causing offence and that his words were "like the skin of a fruit or a nut. The fruit wants to draw attention to itself and invite people to peel it, and then to look at the fruit inside and to see whether it's good to eat, whether it agrees with you."
A novel starts there, we thought, and Alexander McCall Smith began it for us.
James Delingpole
continued it. You are invited to follow.
Some parts of Africa are not entertaining at all. Darfur is a humanitarian tragedy and the cause of that tragedy a concern to us all. On Friday, International Development Minister Hilary Benn told us how much of a concern it was to the British Government.
Extraordinary interview of the week was probably that with Inga Haag on Tuesday, the 60th anniversary of the plot led by Claus Shenk Graf von Stauffenberg to assassinate Hitler. Inga Haag was involved in the plot and recalled it for us - while we all pondered what if. The other thing some of us wondered "what if" about was...what if we had interviewed A. Hitler in 1944 after the plot? What would the questions have been? And how would we have asked them?
Kevin Marsh
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