I'm singin' in the rain - and loving it

IT WAS raining all over Europe last weekend, large parts of the Six Nations were awash and frankly I couldn't be happier. Despite some of the movers and shakers telling us rugby should become a summer game, rugby only truly works as a winter game, at least primarily.

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In fact, I've often thought it should be in the Winter Olympics and not the Summer Games where it would beef up the action a bit, provide a nice antidote to men and women falling over on ice or trying to travel impossibly quick on frozen snow and doing themselves a mischief.

The Six Nations is a tournament that starts in the depths of winter and could almost have been invented to bring light into our lives during the dark months. When I think of winter-generally not just sporting snowy Christmas cards and the Six Nations is almost the first thing that comes to mind.

Some years the daffodils and other early blooms are blazing by the tournament's end but on other occasions there is still a vicious sting to the tail to remind us that nature is in charge.

Among any top five of the coldest/wettest/windiest games I've ever covered is the Calcutta Cup clash on April 2, 2000 when Scotland thwarted England's Grand Slam attempt with a famous win in the icy rain and a 6-6 draw between Ireland and Scotland on March 5, 1994 at Lansdowne Road. And the thing is it doesn't matter a jot.

I don't remember a week's worth of rain and clawing ankle deep mud stopping Gareth Edwards scoring one of the greatest ever individual tries against Scotland in 1972, nor did the heavy going seem to hinder Richard Sharp as he dummied his way through the Scotland defence in 1963 and, on the subject of Scotland, it didn't stop Andy Hancock sprinting 95 yards and beating half the Scotland backline to salvage a draw two years later.