Steve Deane: Rugby has become more of a Squid Game than a sporting competition

OPINION:

The game that claims to be for everyone has become a game for no one.

Rugby’s oft-repeated mantra that it’s a game for all shapes and sizes – and, more recently, genders – has
always been a bit dubious. Ask a pencil-necked geek with the coordination of a trifle of sherry if rugger is game for him, and he’s not guaranteed to answer yes.

But, aside from the deep physical challenges, the sport is inclusive. Whatever your body type and disposition, there’s pretty much a position in a rugby team that’s tailor-made for you to hide in.

At least there were.

These days, there is no shortage of things that can prevent you from participating in a game of football.

There’s too much sluggishness to avoid hitting heads with a rushing opponent; it is not possible to fly – so once airborne when attempting to charge, you find yourself unable to change course; there are too many errors to properly intercept a pass; and there’s the bad luck of playing a position that’s not crucial to holding a scrum.

All of these attributes, as seen in weekend international matches, can keep you out of a game of rugby, either temporarily or for an entire game.

At the highest level, rugby has become more of a Squid Game than an athletic competition, with the arbitrary elimination of participants central to the plot. The main difference is that either of these two entertainment products remains extremely popular.

Rugby fans are burned by the zealous, albeit correct, application of the rules of their sport. Whether they hate the referees, the TMOs, or the rules themselves, a good portion of the sport’s fan base definitely hates it.

How did we get here ?

The first part of the answer is well understood. In a desire to protect players from serious long-term injury – and no doubt the institutions of the game from serious, long-term legal cases – rugby has had to change its rules to become safer.

But rugby changes its rules – sorry ‘laws’ for the pretentious assholes out there – pretty much constantly.

The reason he butchered this particular area so badly is because he forgot that it is, at its core, a game. And people play games for fun. Yes, it’s annoying to have its Saturday night entertainment product routinely ruined by eagle-eyed TMOs, but let’s imagine, just for once, how the players involved in those game-changing incidents must feel.

How would Angus Ta’avao, Leicester Fainga’anuku and Ardie Savea reflect on their Saturday night experience?

As professionals, they’ll no doubt be sucking in, focusing on the next game and working on the little things, or some other great shot that needs urgent attention.

What if they weren’t professionals? What if they were just guys playing for fun? What if they – and here’s a thought – instead of getting paid to play, had to pay $300 in annual memberships for the privilege of taking the field? How would they then reflect on the level of satisfaction derived from their weekend’s athletic endeavors?

They would say it sucked, obviously.

They would feel victimized. And they would be right. For once upon a time in a galaxy not so far away, being kicked off the pitch was a punishment reserved for serious intentional misconduct or persistent infringement.

Rugby players have not been sent off for being involved in accidents. Already. It just wasn’t a thing. And now it is. And we all hate it. Players hate that. Match officials hate it. And fans hate it.

But security, right?

Yes, safety is important. Knowing what we now know about head injuries, it would be remiss not to take action to make the game safer. But is this current mess really the price to pay?

Absolutely not.

The problem is that, in an attempt to fix itself, the game has focused solely on results, while completely sidelining the experience of the participants. It has lost sight of what it is – a game that should be played and watched for fun.

So what is the answer?

A good start would be to review the laws on head clashes and mid-air collisions in view of the participants’ experience. If a sanction is going to ruin a game for a player who has done nothing more than be involved in an accident, the sanction should be changed to mitigate that outcome.

Those who write laws should ask themselves, “If I were a player and this happened to me, how would I feel?” Would I still enjoy the game?

From dollars to donuts, they’ve never done it once when writing the latest abominable version of the rules.

The experience of the participants has clearly been taken out of the equation. If the game wants to save itself, it has to put it back in place – front and center.

If the players are having fun, it will be a fun game to watch.

But if arbitrarily eliminated participants are part of the package, there are better entertainment options. You can guarantee that Netflix is ​​working on it right now.