The lineout resembles rugby's ultimate bureaucratic process, a modern red-tape conundrum that tends to incorporate up to three players. That's certainly the case with Ireland on their throw as Paul O'Connell or Simon Easterby will communicate a decision to scrumhalf Peter Stringer, who then informs hooker Rory Best.
Even an old-style "town crier" would struggle to be heard above the vocal bedlam of a Test match arena. It's not just the supporters that create the din but opposition players who like to crank up the pressure by word and deed. It takes a strong constitution to withstand that level of pressure, let alone throw a ball to an abstract point in the skyline. Hookers are therefore a rare breed, often maligned in error by fans and media alike.
There are many constituent parts to a successful lineout that go beyond the throw. A graphic illustration was Ireland's opening Six Nations match against Wales at the Millennium stadium. The din was deafening and because Ireland only call a lineout when they note how the opposition line up, Best spent half the match with his hand cupped to his ear. New Zealand referee Kelvin Deaker wasn't the most patient man.
The 24-year-old Best coped admirably, especially after his team conceded the first lineout against the throw. It can be nerve-racking watching the process.
The Ulster hooker smiles: "At the end of the day, if I don't hear it (the call), I'll walk off the line and go to (Peter) Stringer. They can't throw the ball in unless I'm there. Sometimes you start to wonder, 'am I going to get this call or not'. To be fair, after the Wales game, we changed a thing or two. Peter Stringer is now coming directly to me to tell me the calls, which has made a big difference to me and given me a lot of confidence. I know it's (the call) going to come.
"You get some referees who are a lot more pernickety than others. It can be a nervous time but there is not a lot I can do. I have to focus on getting the ball in as soon as I know where it's going; you know the lineout is not going to move until you get the call. You have to have faith in the system for want of a better term.
"A lot of my practice would be visualising the point, closing my eyes and trying to picture where the ball is going. Whenever the call comes in, I'll get myself ready and bring the ball back. I'll see that target in my head a split second before I throw it so I'll know where I am putting it."
He's enjoying his rugby and so he should after a series of excellent displays following a bumpy, if try-scoring opening, to the campaign. "It was a nervous enough start against Wales. I didn't play anywhere near my best. Since then it has got progressively better. I am by no means anywhere near the finished article.
"I just having to try and make the strengths I have better and try and eradicate the weaknesses. I feel a lot more comfortable now than I did seven weeks ago, a lot more confident. I know what's happening. I know what the players around me are going to do. It's trying to impose your game, your style of play into the general team patterns. Some games it'll just float away from you. The harder you try, the more it goes away from you and that can be frustrating. Some days everything clicks."
There have been more of the latter this season for the Ulsterman and if Ireland are to prevail at the Stadio Flaminio on Saturday, it's reasonable to expect the younger Best - his brother, Simon, may start depending on Marcus Horan's injured calf - to be at the hub of the action.
