[RUGBYLIST] raccontino per chi mastica l'inglese

[Marco]

...chi mastica l'inglese sapra' che "Against the Head" e' una mischia rubata all'avversario... "contro l'introduzione", forse si dira'? (mammami' quanto tempo che non vivo rugby in italiano!)

AGAINST THE HEAD

“Carry your brothers ever forward, ‘for when you fall to ground they will carry you”
(TV commercial)

…it falls towards them, and the one who can stops everything extends his hand, his arm, away from me and fixes a point with his right foot. We gather around it, my left arm around the waist of my brother, my left hand holding him, his right arm around my shoulders. My feet are apart from each other, parallel and steady, my knees bent. Another of my brothers is behind me, holds tight. I stare into the eyes of the man in front of me, I don’t know him but by now I know him quite well. He looks back, holds the stare. His mate, the smallest one, is there, to my right. The man in charge walks between us, breaks our stares. When he is through I am not looking into anyone’s eyes anymore, but I am fixed on two shoulders next to each other, to some symbol that man bears on his chest, to the words around and under it, to its colours. But I don’ read it. The one in charge orders to, and my left arm pulls my brother closer to me, he holds me tight, someone is there, on my right flank, ready to help. I bend my knees further down and wait. Then another order comes and my right arm touches the left shoulder of the man in whose eyes I was staring, first contact. He tries to put his left arm over my right, I don’t allow him, and then another call, one tenth of a second more to stare at that symbol, to aim at it, and then it starts. Their strength goes through my shoulders, my back, my legs, my calves; and back at them goes mine, and my brothers’. Then the moment, the call, the feed comes from my right. I see it coming, I call it, the muscles in my neck push upwards, my legs stretch, it is a wall against a wall, but walls don’t move, we try to, I try to. I take a step forwards with my right leg, I can do it now, they are giving up, my left leg follows, my brothers scream, we scream, scream and move forwards; the other men scream as well, but ours is a way to collect all our strength to go forwards, theirs sounds like defeat. And forwards we go one small step at the time, their resistance is getting weaker, until what we are fighting for is finally there, we push it back toward temporary safety. The smaller of my brothers sees it, call the others and prepares another phase, fast and articulate. Until we have to do it again.