You may have noticed that the Rugby World Cup has started.
I have been impressed so far. There was very little build-up, no weeks of false anticipation and over-optimistic bleating, which as it turns out, was a bit of luck.
Instead we had ‘It starts on Friday okay’.
The opening ceremony seemed to consist of Prince Harry realising we wanted to drink and watch the sport and get on with it. Top man is Harry.
Then the sport began.
I am not a rugby devotee, but I am a sports fan. I love sport when I can just enjoy it for being something really competitive, of a high quality, and in a noisy atmosphere. So I get into rugby in a heroically ignorant way, not simply because I watch it with a cold drink in my hand. I will never understand rugby’s offside laws or what on earth goes on in the scrum. And I am too old to start trying now. ‘Trying’ … eh, pun intended.
Sorry.
Without a cold drink, I try to watch rugby and see what we can take into football.
I think we can reject the ‘TMO’ video referee rule pretty quickly. If every decision made in a football game could be reviewed and reversed based on action replays, we would be at games for hours and there would be riots.
Leaving the analysis of dodgy decisions in the hands of Gary Lineker, Alan Shearer and Robbie Savage five hours after games have finished is not a perfect solution, but leaves the anger management in the hands of Twitter rather than the Police and the NHS.
On the other hand, I do admire the rugby players refusal to register pain after a tackle. It was embarrassing to watch the Diego Costa and Gabriel nonsense on the same day we saw twelve stone Japanese rugby players overcome the tackles of gym-honed sixteen stone South Africans to register the most unbelievable underdog victory.
A week later I found myself grudgingly impressed with the Welsh after a fantastically exciting game against England. The Welsh were short of several star players before the game, and several more by the end but they held their nerve to win.
At the time I felt bad as an Englishman that we lost but it is easier to get over a loss in a sport you follow less passionately than football. After all, there was the Watford game to play!
That said, there is much about rugby I admire. The most remarkable thing about the game is the treatment of the officials.
They really are in charge, as the French referee pointed out rather impressively live to an audience of millions on Saturday. Can you imagine Andre Marriner being miked up like that at 4pm on a Sunday afternoon?
Even with the immediate analysis of social media and a blooming great video screen behind the posts, the referees are treated with respect by the players. The captains can ask about decisions, but they must be polite.
No-one runs to surround a referee. No-one begs for the opposition players to be carded. No-one feigns injury and rolls about. There is no need. By the end of the eighty minutes of madness if you are not injured you have not been trying hard enough.
I am interested in the difference in relationship between players and referees in rugby and football, particularly being a parent active in kid’s sport.
The respect shown to referees in rugby is very different to football, as is the consideration of officials by parents. I have no problem discussing rules and laws as an official, or tactics and strategy as a coach, but in football those discussions tend to be had in an adversarial or aggressive fashion.
We lost the battle for respect in football a long time ago, and the dull predictable coverage of contentious decisions will ensure that changing attitudes will be impossible.
While England’s chances of winning the World Cup may be at the same level as football changing its attitude to officials, long may rugby win the battle of respect.
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