He opened his eyes and saw the ball that had been rising, many years ago, now falling.
The man whom he had collared was climbing to his feet; behind them men were bending down for a "scrum." The shout that he had heard when he had fallen was still lingering in the air.
And yet many years had passed.
"Hope you're not hurt," the Dublin man said.

"Came down hard." "No, thanks, it's all right." Olva got on to his feet.

Some one cried, "Well collared, Dune." He ran back to his place.

Now there was no hesitation or confusion.

A vigour like wine filled his body.