I’m sure you can imagine that, when I watched the All Blacks versus Ireland game on Sunday morning, I watched with a language focus as well as a sporting one. So, early on in the telecast I was on the edge of my seat and, as the intensity mounted, I wondered where I could go next.
Would I fall from the front of the seat? Would my nose end up touching the television screen? Just where was there left to go after that zone known as “the edge of your seat”?
At half time I used an online dictionary for help. I was told that “on the edge of your seat” was an idiom meaning “very excited and giving all your attention to something because you want to know what is going to happen.” I already knew that, but because I could feel the tension mounting, I wanted to know what was the next level.
The synonyms offered did not really help. The letter A offered abubble, aflame, aflutter, agog, all of a flutter, amped. I was already all of those. Where to next?
From the rest of the alphabet, I’ve plucked a few more examples – entranced, evangelical, excited, fevered, nuts, pumped, zestful – but none really did the job. Sure I was excited, sure I was nuts, sure I was pumped, but those words did not capture how precariously I was perched on the very edge, the very precipice of my chair.
Two yellow cards and a penalty try only increased the tension. There was I, balanced on a fine edge with no knowledge of where to go next. It came down to millimetres. If I edged forward only a millimetre at a time, I would, I felt, not run out of seat edge.
But the gallant All Blacks’ defence of the closing moments of play meant I finally did run out. With absolutely no edge left I had no choice but to stand. And jiggle nervously.
Soon after the end of the game, I watched the replay, but my first experience had taught me some valuable lessons. I started out with my behind placed well back in the seat as far as it would go. This would give me space as I millimetred forward bit by bit with the mounting excitement. Again.
I knew the two yellow cards and the penalty try were easily worth a millimetre each but the last few minutes of desperate defence would mean running out of space again. Standing it was.
I hope you’ll agree after that match that our language falls short with regard to this idiom. There has to be something beyond “on the edge of your seat”. My suggestion may be lame given that it only changes the preposition but may I please register “off the edge of your seat” as an essential part of our language?
I could start a trend. Perhaps some other well-known expressions could be improved too. I’m sure Sean Fitzpatrick would not kick up a ruckus if “game of two halves” became “game of three halves”, for instance.
But I’d like to close with two rugby quotes which need no improvement. In 1989, Welsh rugby star Gareth Davies said, “We’ve lost seven of our last eight matches. The only team that we’ve beaten was Western Samoa. Good job we didn’t play the whole of Samoa.”
And an anonymous fax to the New Zealand rugby team before they went out to play England in 1995 said, “Remember that rugby is a team game; all 14 of you make sure you pass the ball to Jonah.”
From memory, Jonah’s performance in that game had me off the edge of my seat.
Wyn Drabble is a teacher of English, a writer, musician and public speaker.
