Photo: Paquot Baptiste/Abaca/Shutterstock
Another week, another set of ideas on how to improve rugby. Another year, another full of great games, any of which, if they happened in the distant amateur era, those who “were there” would say it was a legend.
Last week Warren Gatland was the latest to voice his thoughts on how the game could go. But in this age of social media intemperance we are far from saying no to thinking about how awful the game is now.
Last year, meanwhile, a casual glance through the match reports written by this correspondent reveals even more extraordinary skill and drama. From Newcastle’s 40-point win over champions Leicester on the opening weekend, France v Scotland in the Six Nations, Leinster’s win over Toulouse, Wales v Fiji in the World Cup and one weekend in Paris which has already faded away – and . happened less than three months ago.
Related: The year in the World Cup: how South Africa won the battle of rugby’s fine edges
This year’s World Cup quarter-finals between New Zealand and Ireland on Saturday and France v South Africa the following day were as good as any in the event’s history. It was the greatest rugby ever played, especially the first half of Sunday’s game, which praised the rugby. It’s a personal view, yes, they were great, but also no more than the latest examples of a sport that seems to be delivered weekend after weekend (that is the last few rounds of European rugby).
So why are we still complaining about the quality of the modern game? And, even worse, holding up the 20th century version as some golden age when players were skilled at searching for space instead of contact?
It is difficult to convey sufficient levels of contempt for the idea through words alone. Make no mistake, nostalgics, rugby union was awful in the amateur era. If you don’t believe that go back and watch it. All of it. From the first whistle to the end. And that’s not the 101 Best Trials video your grandfather bought you for Christmas in 1987.
The story continues
Admittedly, watching all 80 minutes from the amateur era is not easy, but videos of them are available on the internet. While researching Unholy Union, the book I wrote with Mark Evans a few years ago on where rugby came from and where it is going, I sat through the second and fourth Tests of the Lions tour to New Zealand in 1971, counting. the key metrics such as scrums, lineouts and tackles.
And I did it twice. So no one else would.
There were slightly more set pieces (50-plus scrums, 50-plus lineouts) than in both games. It is worth pausing to consider that. The fourth Test in particular, a drawn-out game in blustery Auckland, was an unintelligible mess of amateur scrummaging, hitting, kicking, punching, elbowing, trampling and generally sliding around. Sometimes with a ball somewhere near them. And we grew up being told what a legendary Test series was.
Undoubtedly the biggest disadvantage of the modern game against the old days is scrutiny levels. Nobody wants to pretend that every game is a smile these days. No sport anywhere has managed to take away their magic.
The big problem now is that one can watch six live games a weekend on TV. A sport like rugby is shown, the ever great shaking off the terrible cloud. But imagine if we could watch six live weekend games from the 1970s. It would be an experience to shake us from our longing. That would do more for the popularity of the modern game than any tweak to the kicking laws.
The other problem, perversely, is how good everything is. Including and especially defenses. Players in the modern game are much more skilled than their predecessors – of course, they are full-time professionals – and they are always looking for space. It’s just that there is much less of it now.
Footage of an attempt from some club match in Wales in the 1980s did the rounds on social media a year or two ago. A nice simple touch down the line for a try in the corner, straight from a scrum. Beautiful skills simply executed.
And hardly a defender in sight. The play may have started with a scrum, but those defenders came onto the screen one by one, as if each had been released sequentially from a cage on the touchline.
The excellence of the modern game would make such an attempt impossible today. Defenses would never allow it. It’s amazing, then, that we see a more significant effort in the season these days than any collector since the amateur era could muster to fill a VHS for Christmas.
There’s a lot less space in the modern game than there was last century, when you could throw a picnic blanket over a forward pack as they went from set piece to set piece, from punch-up to punch-up. up. And so there are many more collisions, which raise very serious questions for evaluating the modern game.
But don’t confuse that with players looking for contact over space. Or with a sport that has become boring and cynical. The opposite is the case in both cases. Modern players are much more refined and disciplined in the face of worse experiences than their amateur predecessors, and find much more space against more restrictive defences.
In short, they and their sport are much better than ever. Let us be careful what we wish for.