And We Too Fight For Fighting Sake...

The Lost Master

“And when I come to die, “ he said,
“Ye shall not lay me out in state,
Nor leave your laurels at my head,
Nor cause your men of speech orate;
Nor monument your gift shall be,
Nor column in the Hall of Fame;
But just the line ye grave for me:
‘He played the game.’”

So when his glorious task was done,
It was not of the fame we thought;
It was not of his battles won,
But of the pride with which he fought;
But of his zest, his ringing laugh,
His trenchant scorn of praise or blame:
And so we graved his epitaph,
“He played the game.”

And so we, too, in humbler ways
Went forth to fight the fight anew,
And heeding neither blame nor praise,
We held the course he set us true.
And we, too, find the fighting sweet;
And we, too fight for fighting’s sake;
And though we go down in defeat,
And though our stormy hearts may break,
We will not do our master shame:
We’ll play the game, please God,
We’ll play the game.

- Robert Service

That is one of Dad's favorite poems, and one of mine for that fact - I think this poem is all about attitude, how it's less about the outcome of the fight (the challenge) and more about the taking on of the fight (meeting the challenge) I take the whole thing to be a way to live - It's not a Malcolmism - but dad has read this poem aloud before - I remember reading it around the time that my Grandfather died - he was very much like the man described in this poem, that's probably why we like it so much ...