To drive south from Edinburgh down the winding A7 towards Galashiels is to encounter scenery which makes Last of the Summer Wine seem like an inner-city documentary. Beautiful valleys sweep down to sparkling burns and most striking of all is the sense of solitude. For a sheep the fields must be truly Elysian; for anyone trying to launch a viable professional rugby team, there is an obvious, glaring problem.

Jim Telfer, Scotland's director of rugby and the proudest Borderer imaginable, still chuckles at the memory of the potential Australian import who casually asked for the name of the area's biggest city. A lot of people in Scottish rugby, however, will be monitoring the fortunes of the Borders, the newest professional sports team in Britain who start competitive life against Connacht in the Celtic League this Friday, aware that the health of the entire game north of Hadrian's Wall is at stake.

For since professionalism dawned no country's rugby fabric has been torn asunder quite so radically as Scotland's; two professional sides have struggled to justify their existence while, in once famous clubs such as Melrose and Gala, all manner of resentment and disillusion has festered. Among various mistakes, in retrospect, the decision to concentrate on only two so-called super-districts, Glasgow and Edinburgh, was horribly flawed. Everyone, from Telfer down, now accepts the need for a more competitive domestic environment to restore interest and broaden the base below the national team; on neither count can the Borders afford to fail.

The Scottish Rugby Union is committed to spending £5.1m to fund its three professional sides this season and the Borders, with their slice, have lured back three prodigal sons - Gregor Townsend, Doddie Weir and Gary Armstrong - with an eye not just on team-building but on regaining the trust of the more suspicious locals.

If the nominated base Netherdale, with its solitary stand and surrounding grass banks, lacks a certain metropolitan glamour, the pitch has been expensively relaid, complete with undersoil heating. Even Kelso's braveheart John Jeffrey, speaking from atop his combine harvester last week, was happy to back the SRU's initiative. "In England it's working out fine with the clubs but in Scotland we can't afford it. I think it'll work... the Borders have got a very good coach in Tony Gilbert and they'll get a lot of support. Mind you, for the SRU it's got to work. The alternative - and financially it may have to be the way forward - is to go back to amateur club rugby and let our good players go and play in England."

Telfer prefers to envisage a fourth district covering the north and east by 2006, by which time the Borders hope to be relying almost solely on homegrown talent. "The Borders is the heartland of Scottish rugby. In hindsight maybe we should have concentrated on a Borders team first rather than centring on the main population centres. It can't afford to fail but I don't think it will. I'm not saying the team will win the European Cup but it will be competitive."

The silver-haired Gilbert, among New Zealand's most experienced coaches, preaches the same kind of text, citing similarities with parts of his native land. "Pro rugby has worked in Otago which has the same population, so why can't it here? Borderers are like our people at home. They're passionate about their rugby. We've got to earn their respect by working hard and playing a game that people want to watch."

Talented young players like Stephen Cranston, son of the Borders' chief executive Alastair, and the powerful 20-year-old wing Nikki Walker, already close to the national team, should help but an awful lot rests on the faithful shoulders of Armstrong and Townsend.

Last Friday's 46-3 defeat at Sale suggests patience will be required but Armstrong, 36 next month, was colossal in a spirited pre-season win over a Newcastle side lacking only Jonny Wilkinson. As for Townsend, despite damaged ribs and recent tonsilitis, he can barely hide his inner satisfaction at coming home, at the age of 29, to the same Netherdale turf he first trod as a six-year-old filling in on the wing for his brother's under-10 team. "I couldn't resist the temptation of the new club, of something you're going to take ownership of. I loved playing for Northampton, Brive and Castres but the fact this is where I'm from gives it that extra five per cent."

Of course there will be quibbles but for Townsend, Armstrong and Weir, three of rugby's finest modern ambassadors, success would be richly deserved. If nothing else, a flourishing Borders team would also question the modern orthodoxy that rugby is an urban game - "They're all city slickers now," sighs Telfer - and update the area's traditions for a new generation.

At Telfer's suggestion, Gilbert has taken his entire squad, including the office staff, up the road to Dryburgh Abbey to gaze at William Wallace's statue, a 22-foot high sandstone edifice, and remind them they are representing something far bigger than themselves.

Telfer confirms that Wallace was not strictly a Borders man but the locals clearly liked his style. Translate such competitive spirit into a few rousing home wins and, to paraphrase that other Borders' legend Bill McLaren, they will be absolutely delighted with that down in Hawick.