The Team Match Day Speech, for the benefit of Team Digby Hand
By Hap Rocketto
If we are mark’d for defeat, we are enow
To do Digby Hand loss; and if to win,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour.
God’s will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
That he which hath no stomach to this match,
Let him depart; his passport shall be drawn,
And NRA Award Points for convoy put into his purse:
We would not shoot in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to shoot with us.
This day is called Team Match Day:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when the day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Digby Hand.
He that shall see day, and live old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say ‘To-morrow is Team Match Day:’
Then will he open the match bulletin and point to his name.
And say ‘These scores I shot on Team Match Day.’
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember with advantages
What Xs he shot that day: then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words,
Adams the Coach, Glenn and Holmes, Graf and Hoskins,
Remaly and Doerschler, Carpenter, Lynn, and the Brothers Rocketto
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember’d.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Team Match Day, Team Match Day, shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember’d;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that shoots his ‘knot lot” with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition.
And riflemen at home now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their classification cards cheap whiles any speaks
That shot with us upon Team Match Day.