Some admittedly aim at using it as a launching pad to reach the roof of the world. Others to avoid the disgrace of continual defeats. The extremes nearly touch here in the almost two months of matches fought on the green pitches throughout most of Europe.
It all started in 1883, when the countries of the British Isles decided to battle it out to see who could score the most tries and kick the most place kicks.
And then, what was originally a four-team competition, about thirty years ago, on the eve of the first world war, saw the arrival of a fifth squad - France joined Ireland, Scotland, Wales and England to forge, almost a century ago, the formidable tradition of the Five Nations Cup, Rugby’s most prestigious tournament.

Since 2000, another country has been added to the list - Italy. And it is here that we go back to the beginning.
To those now fighting it out to test their strength in view of the Australian World Championship scheduled in October 2003. And those who, less ambitiously (meaning the Italian national team) are struggling to avoid a complete series of defeats.
At the “Six Nations” this little-envied record is rewarded with the wooden Spoon, a symbolic trophy assigned to those who lose all the matches of the tournament.
We have won it twice in the last three years. Our 2000 debut, an opening success against Scotland, and again this year against Wales (the only one in the end) has enabled the Italian “fifteen” to avoid an uncomfortable “third time round”.
To ask for more perhaps, by putting ourselves on a par with continental superpowers like Ireland and England, appears exaggerated.

Too many years of highly competitive rugby and experience acquired in the holy places of this sport separate us from the best.
Twickenham and Landsdowne Road are stadiums that bend the knees emotionally just as soon as you set foot in them. But from now on, if our movement wants to climb the ladder, it must necessarily make use of all available resources.
And in the case of this rough but clean sport, when an ongoing supply of champions or substantial economic backing go missing, all that remain is “heart”.
Taking a look at the budgets of the Rugby Federation, one realises that here too, as is the case of nearly all Italian sport, the oxygen canister is nearly empty.
There is even talk of not having enough money to pay the championship referees in the event of the yearly proceeds from the “Six nations” not materialising. Every season brings with it the usual old moral problem - but one that also stems from figures.
The 35 million euro paid by the BBC for TV rights are inevitably shared out according to a hierarchic scale starting with the countries with the best curriculum in the event.
Only crumbs for us then and, in turn, for the Welsh and Scots, the tail enders of the continental movement. It is just a way of surviving until sponsors appear on the scene that are willing to invest. It seems bad to be talking about money in association with an exemplary event from the competitive point of view.
The only one perhaps to silence the bombs and terrorist attacks in the name of the oval ball. Pitting boys from Ulster and Ireland against one another (on the sports field of course) does in fact seem incredible.
And yet if Ireland comes together and cheers in the name of a ball that rolls towards a touch line, forgetting thousands of dead, then competing for this trophy must have some deep-set and exceptional significance.
And this means tradition, compliance with the rules and also education.

Starting with the policeman on duty in the stadiums, who seem to be almost taking it easy. There are no fences, nets, partitions, helmets or even worse, tear gas here. It all ends (and is accepted) with the verdict on the field.
The rest is a pretext for a good third half, meaning time for a good drink in the company of friends and enemies.
There is no other way to explain how nearly eight thousand Welsh fans, in Rome to cheer on their team, already full of beer since the early afternoon, went home in the same civil manner in which they had set foot in our country.
No offensive banner or hooligans to be kept in order with the threat of truncheons.
This is above all the lesson that rugby has to teach soccer. Humble, little money, but respect for those who play and those who pay.
Without simulated fouls or gestures of reaction which sometimes, given the physical contact that takes place on the field, could well occur.
The weak point? Perhaps an environment that is over conservative. Accepting the fact that we can call weak point the sturdy defence of one’s sporting habits.
Rule changes or technical-tactical upheavals in the name of politicians that promise big economic returns are not to be seen here.
And so things continue with those who, thanks to years of hard-fought matches, have managed to make it to the top. We should not be surprised if after 120 years from their win in the opening match, the English are still in charge.
Nor should we be surprised if the Italian newcomers only come up to our expectations once in a while.

Translated by interpres sas