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Subscribe to RSS FeedTime to ditch the dead wood
A moment of amateur spontaneity is frowned upon by a professional rugby person...
There has been a great deal of talk about dividing future Rugby World Cups into two distinct tournaments - one for the 'haves' and one for the 'have-nots'. Separating the wheat from the chaff, so to speak.
Hats off to the man who hatched that plan. I, for one, am all for it. Those over-sized, morose, uninspiring automatons from the so-called "established" nations can get lost for all I care. Let them draw their ring of self-conceit around themselves, and let them build it high so that we need not sully our eyes with their miserable plodding.
Don't get me wrong. Of course I'm impressed with their size and strength and stamina - they must spend endless hours in the gym. Their sheer professionalism is also admirable - they are nothing if not fully determined to make as much cash as possible. And the sheer discipline with which they follow their superiors' instructions shows all the biscuit-in-the-pocket devotion of a hopeful at Crufts.
But where's the spontaneity? The ability to act instinctively? The derring-do, the bravery, the panache, the flair, the mighty spirits? Where, in short, are the tries that make the soul sing?
Being scored by the so-called 'lesser' teams, that's where!
Marvel at the quick-thinking Argentinians. Savour Japan's tries against Wales. Witness Portugal's determination to have a hearty crack from all parts of the field. Check out the Tongans!
That's what Rugby Union should be about - it's a game played off the cuff with passion.
If I really wanted to watch creatine junkies perform predictable routines in natty little uniforms I'd just switch over and watch the wrestling - at least some of their freaks boast a little charisma.
So, by all means, cut the World Cup in two - in fact, cut the sport in two.
Rugby Football experienced a similar schism in 1895 when the money-hungry bores parted ways with the ball-playing romantics. Empirical evidence suggests it's time to file for an amicable divorce once again, and I know which path the true afficionados of our great game will follow.
Harsh? I don't think so. Imagine yourself sat with one of these "top tier" nations on the eve of a game, and tell us - please! - that the coach's team-talk would not go something like this...
1: Get the set-pieces right (you know, the ones we have practiced ad infinitum)
2: Allow [insert fly-half's name here] the time and space to kick for territory (use gridiron blocking tactics on the opposition's loose forwards)
3: Rough up the opposition by bashing at the fringes (use your gym conditioning, boys!)
Now here's where it gets complicated, so put down those dumbbells at the back!
4a: Wait for opposition to tire and sneak through a gap.
or
4b: Wait for the opposition to make a mistake and kick a penalty.
Got it? Good!
5: Repeat stages 1 to 4 over and over.
If that fails....
6: Introduce another handful of fresh gym bunnies on the hour mark.
7: Repeat stages 1 to 4 over and over.
8: Last and most important point: disengage brains, don't risk anything, don't try and enjoy yourselves - remember that my very lucrative job is in your hands.
Okay, perhaps we are being a little disingenuous. There are actually three slight variations to this one-size-fits-all bore-fest.
South Africa: Kick it high in the air. Get muscle-bound forwards to chase up. Wait for a mistake or Bryan Habana to intercept.
France: Forget proud heritage and joie de vivre. Defend like crazy. Seek advantage through boot wherever possible.
Australia: Keep away from own forwards. Keep ball behind opposition's forwards. Hope opposition returns it to Chris Latham via a failed touch-finder.
But we'll concede that the stratagems of two of the most haughty sides are beyond deciphering. England's and Ireland's tactics have left us absolutely stumped. Is it 'give away a gold pot' and 'be home by the end of the month' respectively? Answers on a postcard, please!
By Andy Jackson
