On the eve of the Six Nations...
It is one of those things where you are envious because that guy is living your dream, but you would be too terrified to say anything if you were in his position.
Your heart is fit to burst, batting against your rib cage and causing that 'whooshing' sound in your ears. You are sweating. Everyone is sitting in a semi-circle pointed at one focal point. A desk. You've stared at it for the last five minutes until you didn't know what it was anymore. There are shirts on it.
This is something the fans hear about and see on those candid documentaries. This is where the team get their passion gilded talk. An open, frank, romantic telling of what this upcoming game of rugby union means. Then you shake someone hand as applause rings round the group and you troop back to your chair.
You hear your name, but you don't know who was called before you. You get up onto your trembling legs and you walk forward with the blinkers on. You cannot look at anyone else right away, but you reach out for that jersey because that is what this is all about. More sweat is popping out of your head and your clammy hand tightens round the collar of that special shirt. In exchange you offer your other hand and then, only then, do you make eye contact with the man giving you your prize. There is a brief private message, something like "enjoy it , but you cannot listen whilst you stare at your shirt and consider the trip back to your seat.
Every 6 Nations game has history. It is hard to ignore. You get told enough times and ESPN Classics is only a few button clicks away.
The impact of this is seldom absorbed until you are in this room, though. At least that is what is apparent form the accounts. It is a group of guys representing one whole nation. That is a tough gig. 80 minutes to do all you can for millions of people is a beautiful burden.
You sometimes see people have nightmare debuts because that pressure is too great. Although he is more settled now those in Scotland remember Geoff Cross flying straight into a mid-air tackle against Wales and then being carted off concussed. It just becomes too much for some.
There are also those that set the pitch alight in their first game. Some, like Chris Ashton and Rob Kearney, looked like they were born to play international union. They took to it so well. Some would even dare to dream of scoring on their debut.
On Saturday the 6 Nations begins and for the lucky, haunted few this will be their first start in a competitive environment. They will consider both a perfect start and a horror debut. It would be unavoidable. Humans dream. They worry.
Do you think Wesley Fofana, David Denton, Lee Jones, Giovanbattista Venditti, Rhys Gill, Alex Cuthbert, Phil Dowson, Owen Farrell or Brad Barritt will be able to sleep on the eve of their first ever test start?
I don't think so either.
Tomorrow is the biggest game of my life...
