Crossing Codes

Well, it was rugby last time and it’ll be rugby this time next week, so I might as well buck the trend and start talking a little more about rugby in preparation for the upcoming Lions tour (anyone who wants to hear my views regarding Christian Wade/Shane Williams’ callup will have to make themselves heard over the sound of me clapping with glee at the prospect of a bit of magic from either). However, today I will not be confining myself solely to my preferred variant of rugby union, but will instead be analysing its relationship to the other code; rugby league.

To tell the story of rugby league, we must travel back to 1895, just 22 years after the official founding of the game of rugby football. As befits a sport named after and originating from a public school, rugby at the time was very much a rich man’s game, particularly in the south of Britain, and such people could afford to live the amateur dream; where the game was not influenced by such crass things as money, but by honour and other such proud words. Indeed, as I explained last time, this attitude of die-hard defence of amateurism would persist in the union game for nearly the next century, and as late as 1995, as the game lay on the very verge of going professional, Will Carling was stripped of the England captaincy for (quite accurately) referring to the board of the RFU as ’57 old farts’.

However, way back in the late 19th century the game was just starting to take off in the north of England as well, where ex-public schoolboys were rather thin on the ground. This was working-class country, and rugby here was a working class game; for these men, amateurism was a hard task, and every game they played on a Saturday was another three hours where they weren’t earning much-needed cash. As such, a group of northern clubs proposed to the RFU that, with the reasonable income generated from the spectators at matches, players could be ‘recompensed for loss of time’; a reasonable request, one might assume. However, the old farts took the suggestion badly, not only rejecting it out of hand  but issuing a dictum that banned teams from playing at grounds where an entrance fee was charged for spectators. This, to put it mildly, did not go down well with the northern clubs, and on the 29th of August that year, 22 clubs formed the Northern Union; an entirely separate officiating organisation. Over 200 clubs would join the Northern Union within the next decade and a half (some argue this did the union code the world of good, stripping England of much of its skilled player base and making the international playing field more even), and gradually they also began fiddling with the laws, fitting them to their liking. The biggest changes came in 1906, when the number of men per team was reduced from 15 to 13 (dropping the flankers to give the attacking side more room; an idea being voiced by some in the union code at the moment too), and when the ruck was abolished, being replaced instead with rugby league’s characteristic ‘writhe around on the floor until the ref shouts “move”‘.

This revolutionised league’s playing structure, doing away with the dull scrummaging and mauling that dominated union at the time in favour of a faster, more flowing game. Gone was the suffering of the union winger, doomed to forever hang around getting cold and hoping for a pass or two; backs became the focus of the league game, as handling skills became prioritised over strength and wingers were encouraged to go looking for the ball, to make themselves useful. Games became far higher-scoring than in union (where 3-0 wins were not uncommon at the time), and this was only enhanced when league became a summer game, played on hard, fast grounds rather than getting bogged down in the mud and rain. Add to that the fact that league players could get paid to play, and it’s not surprising that many union players chose to switch codes (much to the chagrin of their respective unions, who would frequently ban them from ever playing the union code again). All in all, for much of the 20th century, rugby league could easily argue to be on top of its union cousin.

However, when union (finally, amidst much chaos and complaining) turned professional in 1995, the tide began to turn. In spite of everything, union had, particularly in the latter half of the century, maintained a bigger player and supporter base than league, and much of it in the affluent south; this meant that it was able to cash in on professionalism to an extent that league couldn’t match, and the union authorities had finally made concessions on the laws that were conducive to a far more spectator-friendly game. The tide began to turn. Union got richer (especially when businessmen like Francis Baron started to weigh in) and took back a few stars who had gone over to league. Then, it started poaching a few league stars of its own; former rugby league internationals like Lote Tuqiri, Jason Robinson & Andy Farrell began making their considerable presence felt as union started to wave around fat payslips and an approach to professionalism that has begun to take over from league in terms of intensity. Just recently, Sonny Bill Williams (who has just returned to league after a few years in an All Blacks shirt) has said that the approach that became second nature to him in union has marked him out in terms of professionalism in a league environment. As evidenced in this article, winner of the ‘most needlessly provocative title in a sporting article’ award.

So, rugby league then; a game conceived in rebellion to the arrogance of the wealthy southerners, it is in many ways the perfect embodiment of England’s north-south divide. Thankfully, said divide has (to me at least) receded somewhat in recent years, and so has some of the animosity between the two codes. This has lead some to propose a somewhat radical new idea; that the two codes combine, returning union to a single sport united by the best of both worlds. Will it happen in the forseeable future? Of course not; league is a proud game well capable of standing on its own two feet, and is blessed with some of the most passionate fans in sport, who I don’t think would take kindly to the identity of their sport fading away. Not only that, but trying to create a game appreciated by both parties would be a messy old business, even if the conception of the IRB has made union slightly more accepting than if negotiations were headed by unions quite as… vociferous as the RFU. Nonetheless, the debate does highlight an important issue; both codes have an awful lot to learn from one another, and union in particular has utilised the skills of former league talents both on the field and in coaching. With both games in serious trouble in places, particularly in today’s economic climate, not making use of such cooperation could prove very costly indeed.

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Weekend=Rugby. Rugby=Blogging

Yes, it’s Monday again, and another excuse for me to relive the weekend’s Six Nations action (don’t worry, the tournament finishes next Saturday, so you don’t have to put up with me for much longer). As always, scores are at the bottom, and I refer you to iPlayer for highlights of the weekend’s matches.

We begin with ITALY‘s game against the high-flying Welsh, a game which I was unfortunately unable to watch and so have  had to cobble together a picture of from the highlights and my brother’s opinions on the game. From what I can pick up, I hardly missed much- despite Wales scoring two tries, both were uninteresting and the half-time score of 9-3 tells a more realistic picture of the game than the final score does. Italy themselves pick up the Deja Vu Award for Eerily Familiar Defensive Responses, referring specifically to Wales’ tries. Both were scored from out wide, the first by Jamie Roberts, who cut straight through the defence like a hot knife through butter and forcing Italian winger Luke McLean to turn and hare after him on the outside- not that it made any difference, with that much space in front of him. Then, half an hour later, Alex Cuthbert got Wales’ second try, smashing through the Italian line to go over in the corner, causing, once again, Luke McLean to turn, on Cuthbert’s outside, and sprint after him, in almost mirrored fashion to his run after Roberts. At least, that’s what stood out for me about the tries.

As for WALES, they can only be awarded, from what I have heard of them, the My Imagination Is Clearly On The Wane Award for Least Award-Worthy Performance. Wales were undoubtedly clinical and efficient in their dispatching of Italy, only conceding 3 points to what was, admittedly, a weak Italian kicking side. They were also clearly incisive enough (when it suited them) to score twice- and yet this week, for the first time in this tournament, I have yet to read a single match report concerning their game containing the words ‘spectacular’, ‘nerve-wracking’ or ‘breathtaking’. Efficient, they may well have been, but inspiring? Entertaining? Creative of anything to really stick in the memory? No.

On to SCOTLAND, who not only won the Are We Done Yet? Award for Most Tedious Second Half (after a fast, competitive first half capped by a superb try, the second saw a grand total of 10 points scored, all Irish, and Scotland being about as proactive as a disabled hippo), but also the But He Was Your Man! Award for Most Baffling Defensive Moment. I refer, of course, to Ireland’s second try- with the Scots holding their line strongly, the pressing Irish won a ruck near the corner. Somehow (no camera seemed able of picking up how, in any case), the ball shot out of the back of it, surprising everyone concerned and allowing several delighted Scotland defenders to leap towards it with relish. However, Irish scrum-half Eoin Reddan was there first and, in a single instant the Scots lost the plot, the ball, and quite possibly the match. All three of the defenders going for Reddan appeared to be expecting him to drop it, and all seemed to dive for the space behind him rather than the man himself. As such, all of their ‘tackles’, simply bounced straight off him, leaving a presumably both bemused and delighted scrum half the wrong side of the defensive line, allowing him to dart over for a score. Oh Scotland, what will we ever do with you?

IRELAND follow Scotland’s lead by claiming a defensive award, this time for the Biggest Schoolboy Error. As every coach will tell you, the cardinal sin for any player, and particularly a full-back, is to follow a pass rather than the man, for thus are dummies sold and tries conceded- a lesson Rob Kearney learned with painful clarity on Saturday. Scotland had strung together another attacking move when their blonde second row giant, Richie Gray, suddenly made a break down the right and was bearing down on Kearney, running a very slight angle to the outside. Whether it was this angle, the fact that the ‘slow forward’ Gray had a winger unmarked outside him, or simply fear of getting crushed under the 6’10” giant we may never know, but either way Kearney made a fatal error. Instead of simply smashing into Gray’s legs and trusting in a mixture of defenders and blind faith, he ran straight in front of Gray towards the winger, leaving clear space for the lock to sell an almost apologetic dummy and crash in for Scotland’s first and, as it transpired, only try of the game. Ah well, chalk it down to karma I suppose.

And now to what was undoubtedly the weekend’s most interesting game- England v. FRANCE. Both sides played some brilliant rugby, and it is with a little sadness that what most sticks out to me about France’s game wins them the Ah, We’ll Get Over Eventually Award for Least Clinical Finishing. England blitzed the first 20 minutes, but France managed to wrest control back for about the next half-hour, and in the minutes before half-time they looked especially dangerous. They made several clean line breaks, not least through everyone’s new favourite centre Wesley Fofana, but all they ever seemed to gain from them was field position. This can partly be attributed to a splendid defensive performance from England full-back Ben Foden, but to concede as many opportunities as they did, especially for a team who, on the opening weekend, I thought were by far the most clinical side, almost flirts with carelessness. The most obvious example came from a Fofana break in the second half. For a moment, Fofana had a perfect window of opportunity- about five metres away from both Foden and the chasing defenders, he was short on space, especially to the outside, but inside him scrum-half Morgan Parra must have been screaming for the ball. One pass, and France were a try up with an easy conversion under the posts. As it was, Fofana swerved left, was hammered by Foden, and the chance went begging. On such margins are famous victories won and lost.

As for ENGLAND, it’s hard to think of an award that best sums up what was a great day for the side- fast, fluid and full of ambition. But, in a weekend of some superb hard-running action, No. 8 Ben Morgan has to take the Wrecking Balls Ain’t Got Nothin’ On Me Award for Most Devastating Break. Early in the first half, with England already a try ahead, the French put a kick up to Morgan. Much was made in the analysis afterwards of the staggered nature of the French line, and how spread out it was, but this does not detract from the fact that, with next to no time to gather himself, Morgan pouched the ball perfectly, before setting off on a devastating run in which he beat four defenders without so much as breaking stride, before clattering into a fifth and delivering an outside offload to Foden that would have made Sonny Bill Williams start making embarrassing noises. In that one move, Ben Morgan made the try that set the platform for a famous English victory. I may even forgive him for being Welsh.

Final Scores:
Wales 24 – 3 Italy
Ireland 32 – 14 Scotland
England 24 – 22 France