That rugby match

There’s generally a lot of sport going on and I have tried to refrain from going on about it on this blog, although I was sorely tempted after Federer’s peerless Australian display. Yesterday, though, we were treated to an extraordinary six nations rugby match which has, I think, parallels that apply to life more generally. Over the past decade Scotland have, sadly, tended to be portrayed as contenders for the wooden spoon only. But this season they look different. Though they lost, their performance last weekend against what we now know is a splendidly resurgent French team gave a hint of what would come to any team not at its very best. And yesterday the Welsh team was not at its very best. A superb Scotland took the game by the throat, scoring two early tries and, despite disruptions to their line up through injuries, led for much of the rest of the game.  With seven minutes remaining on the clock, the Scots had a ten point lead (24-14) but when the final whistle blew Scotland were down to 13 men and Wales had won a famous victory, 31-24. Here was a graphic and exciting demonstration of the old adage that the show is not over until the fat lady sings (the fat lady on this occasion being a Cardiff Millenium Stadium crowd). It was brilliant entertainment and the sort of match that nobody deserves to lose. (Ironically, Scotland could have settled for a draw if they had simply kicked their final restart into touch, but they were clearly still determined to win.)