Rugby Union is boring. It pains me to say it, but game after game we see waves of planned and predictable attacks crashing on the barriers of well organised and drilled defence. It sounds like a clash of epic proportions: the unstoppable force meets the immoveable object. But in reality the collisions between these colossal lumps of muscle have all the drama and appeal of two washing machines rumbling into each other.
I was, and am, a huge rugby fan, but it saddens me when I see a game with so much potential for theatre and spontaneity wrecked by an over emphasis on improving the athlete rather than improving a skill set. The best and most exciting players to watch are those who can combine big collisions with sleight of hand and the ability to take advantage of broken play. Games are regularly turned on their head by the likes of Brian O’Driscoll and Martyn Williams in the Northern Hemisphere. But these players are in increasingly short supply and the two maestros are not getting any younger.
Rugby now plays host to the angry gymbot who is more interested in the size of his traps than the beauty of the game, more interested in his reflection than the good of the team. The entertainment value of the sport is suffering at the hands of narcissistic gym-monkeys and this is what truly matters for the sport to be sustainable.
The Tackle Area
This is the biggest problem in the game right now. Fear of becoming isolated and turned over leads to the drudgery of aerial ping-pong which is killing the game. The game is slowed down by improved jackling techniques, but it is not helped by the way players attack the gain line. Attacking players pick out an opposition player in the defensive line and try to beat them one on one; try to prove their greater masculinity, try to prove who is literally stronger and in doing so make it much easier for opposition to regain their feet immediately to compete the break down.
If players attack weak arms and even just get a few inches behind the gain line, a matter of inches can turn into much more. Also if they succeed in going just a small distance behind the gain line the jackal is already taken care of and the ball can be recycled more quickly.
Off Loading
How often do we see a player break the gain line only to clutch the ball to his chest like a new born baby as the support player steams through empty handed. Players are too afraid to chance their arm and would prefer to remain undefeated than win.
Link Man
Players such as Martyn Williams can come into the line and perform the duties of an extra back. Most forwards these days lack the basic skills needed to turn defence into attack from the smallest of blips in regimented play.
Not only a national treasure, but rugby's treasure
Future
Aggression is part of the game, but rugby is as much about brains as it is brawns. Rugby is being ruined by egos, and the narcissist’s obsession with their own reflection is sucking the joy and creativity from the game.
Rugby needs flair, and flair cannot be learnt in the gym.
“People do not seek news”- a worrying declaration indeed from innovative Times Web Development Editor, Joanna Geary.
This comment really struck a cord with me. For a few months I have glowered at the doom and gloom pervading newspaper journalism and resented the ever-growing ignorance and disinterest of the consumer (or non-consumer of news).
News=Product, Journalist=Salesman
But what right do I have to claim this privileged position over what are essentially customers. There is a fundamental lofty misconception that we are the gatekeepers of democracy when in reality we are no more important to the consumer than a sales assistant- we are there to serve.
The typewriter has evolved into an iMac, the copy writers have disappeared and yet we are still producing a similar product to what journalists have always churned out. Admittedly we have changed the content, but we are only just getting round to shifting away from what some consumers might see as an archaic medium.
“Business models are one of the biggest talking points in newspaper journalism.” The question is not: how can we make people pay for news? But: what product will people want to pay for?
Like any other salesman we are subject to consumer demands. Our attitudes and in turn our product must adapt if we are to succeed.
We have heard the problems, now we need some answers. Perhaps Rob Andrew, UK editor of paid content, and this Thursday’s lecturer will shed some light on the possible way forward.
The smell is what hit me first. Sulphur combined with an earthy musk stifled my nostrils swamping the air, erasing the odour of any individual.
Royal Marines are a strange breed: the young untried recruits possessed with a sense of adventure, lost in the moment, an indistinguishable cog in the machine, the old hands decked out in their authoritative berets, living a life between the forces and “civyy-street”, and then there are those serving, the finished article.
Dirty and sleep deprived, these serving soldiers are ruthlessly efficient and professional. At no point during my brief time spent embedded with them did I ever feel in danger or in doubt of their abilities.
While their actions and thought processes require a robotic precision, I felt a greater humanity from these men than I did with either their old and young counterparts.
One marine, recently returned from Iraq, said after he had secured a good pension he would retire immediately to set up his own fitness business. It had been the hardest experience of his life and he had no desire to return.
We went on an ambush exercise with this troop, ghosting along track and woods in the dead of night, and it struck me how much time marines spent alone. Although they are irrefutably a team, almost identical in the black of night, I was very aware in the oppressive silence that I was surrounded by humans, not soldiers, with individual thoughts.
When I asked one marine about this he said his mind drifted terribly. He often thought about where he would spend his next holiday, or who he would be sharing Christmas with.
While I know these thoughts are far from revelatory, it was reassuring to know the awful musk of sulphur and sweat had not claimed the individual and these were men first and soldiers second.
As the decade draws to a close I have decided, in the style of Empire magazine, to start a poll for the sporting icons of the decade.
But I need your help! After suggesting one myself I need you to post a link to your own blog post of no more than 300 words explaining your pick.
There is no limit on how many sportsmen/women can be put forward and by the end of November I will post a poll to determine who is the greatest sporting icon of the Noughties.
Roger Federer is undoubtedly the most consistent and talented sportsman of the last decade. He has reached an incredible 22 consecutive grand slam finals, spanning five years, and has won an unprecedented 15 grand slams.
Earlier this year at the French Open he completed a career grand slam, a feet only achieved by six other players.
But enough statistics. Hyperbole is called for when referring to Roger Federer.
He simply has the most complete game the world has ever seen. Where Pete Sampras had a weak backhand, Federer’s subtle flick of the wrist is one of the delights of world tennis. Where Bjorn Borg burnt out, Federer’s career is long-lived. Where Agassi would scuttle back to the baseline Federer is equally imperious at the net as he is from the back of the court.
The 15th Grand Slam
But more than his shot making, it is his mental strength that places him on a different playing field from others.
He has suffered at the hands of great rival Rafael Nadal on numerous occasions. Many condemned his career to the scrap heap after he lost in an epic five-set encounter to the Spaniard at the 2009 Australian Open when he broke down in tears, saying: “it’s killing me.”
Their rivalry has produced arguably the finest sporting moment of the decade in the Wimbledon 2008 final. Federer’s defeats have made him more human and has won him more fans. Nadal shed light on Federer’s fallibility, but Nadal also revealed Federer’s humanity and his humility, securing his appeal as the greatest sporting icon of the decade.
Since then he has bounced back to win his bogey tournament, Roland Garros, add another Wimbledon title to his record, and reclaim the Number 1 berth.
Dirty and sleep deprived, these serving soldiers are ruthlessly efficient and professional. At no point during my brief time spent embedded with them did I ever feel in danger or in doubt of their abilities.
