SINCE David Barnes of the excellent The Offside Line has already put up a post with the basic details, and is seeking comment from the various interested parties, I will say little about the seven options on the table for the “post transition” seasons, beginning next season, which will follow the ending of Super Rugby in late summer.
These are going to be a hectic couple of weeks for those involved. The various club for a have to meet and attempt to thrash out a solution, which will then be discussed by the Club Rugby Board at a meeting on 15 March.
So, not a lot of time in which to solve a complex problem. The timescale will hopefully be a case of the imminence of a date with the hangman concentrating minds wonderfully. However, this is Scottish Rugby, and, as ever, Ah hae ma doots.
As things stand, no club will lose out, although one or two will surely feel they are not getting that to which they are entitled; while others will surely react less than graciously at the thought of a couple of clubs being elevated somewhat beyond their current status.
I have to say, the Focus Group, led by Gavin Scott, has bent over backwards to try to cover all bases and well done to them. However, we could yet end up with a camel, when we are trying to breed a thoroughbred – particularly given the my club first tendancy which is afoot in Scottish Rugby.
Good luck to them, but, my gut feeling is, this being Scottish Rugby, we will end up with a set-up which satisfies nobody and does nothing to move the game forward. Or, does that make me sound too-much like this guy?
A FRIEND of this blog this week sent me a cutting from The Irish Times, in which Gerry Thornley, one of their rugby writers reflected at length on the behaviour of the crowds at the Aviva Stadium.
Gerry's suggestion is that in recent years the Aviva crowds have gradually changed, with Rugby Union's version of the attendees at Old Trafford Roy Keane so-memorably described as “the prawn sandwich brigade”. The sub-text is that Ireland's presence at the top of the world rankings has turned being in the crowd at The Aviva from a case of answering Ireland's Call into being seen at one of the places to be seen in Dublin.
Thornley quoted one veteran fan, who had been going to the ground since it was known as Lansdowne Road, as saying, decades ago, he knew 30 or 40 of the fans sitting in his section, these days he barely knows two or three. This fan further insisted that internationals in Dublin were nowadays drawing fewer fans from Connacht and Ulster.
This, however, may have something to do with the success of Leinster, a success reflected by the fact, the current Irish squad is largely built around players from the Dublin-based province.
OK, that's Ireland's problem. However, you have to be demonstrating the lack of awareness of the referee in a domestic football match involving one or other of the Bigot Brothers, to fail to appreciate, something similar is going on at Murrayfield.
Say what you like about the Bufties from the old amateur days, but, they developed a system of ticket distribution which ensured that big international days at HQ were watched by a crowd who were almost-exclusively rugby people – it wasn't quite “the right crowd and no crowding” but such wee touches as the schoolboys enclosure down the front helped ensure a committed and knowledgeable crowd at Scotland games.
Then Murrayfield was re-developed, and Rugby Union went Open. Running costs rose, as did the payroll; in came the professional administrators and suddenly it became necessary to milk the paying public harder, to try to cover the costs.
It is said that Association Football at the top level, particularly in the mega-rich confines of England's Premiership has “lost its soul.” The same accusation could well be levelled at the SRU.
I ENJOYED my trawl through the BTL (below the line) readers' comments on the subject of this week's Guardian Breakdown rugby blog – Duhan van der Merwe.
Many of the responses to the praise for the big winger were all so-typically British, concentrating on Duhan's perceived failures, more than the things he does well.
A couple of stories, one with a rugby slant. Before he switched sports on his way to being one of the powers behind Cumnock Rugby Club, Jim “Tober” Morrison was a wonderful basketball player. Making his full international debut for Scotland while still at school, Tober weent on to captain the short-lived Rangers Basketball team, captain Scotland and play for Great Britain.
He was a tremendous shooter, but this cut little ice in England. The Cumnock Junior squad he played in was something special, producing six of the seven players who got on the floor the first time Scotland ever beat England at Under-15 level.
A couple of years later, the Cumnock lads went to a tournament on Merseyside and won it, becoming in the process, the first British team in at least five years to beat Crystal Palace, in the final, with Morrison outstanding.
After the game, Palace's American coach was raging, and his mood wasn't helped when the Cumnock coach asked him for a critique of Tober's performance.
The response was: “a bit slow, weak on his left side, cannot defend.”
“OK, but, what about the 65 points he scored?” was the Cumnock coach's response.
Then there was Sir Alf Ramsey's feed-back to Leeds United after Norman Hunter's debut for the England Under-23 team. This famously was: “a promising boy, but,he's terribly left-footed and that needs worked on.”
Next England Under-23 game, Ramsey approaches Les Cocker, the Leeds and England trainer and says: “Les, I thought your club was asked to work on Hunter's reliance on his left-foot.”
“Yes Gaffer, that's the foot we've been working on.”
The morale of these two tales – in British sport it's the done thing to be negative and dismissive of emerging talent. Maybe because: “You win nothing with kids.”
To return to van der Merwe, however. If you accept that wingers are Rugby Union's strikers, then it is undeniable that vdM's strike rate – 26 tries in 37 internationals – is exceptional. That works out at 0.7 tries per game. That puts him ahead of any much-vaunted England wing you might care to name and up there getting close to some All Black try machines.
This feat has puzzled blogmeister Robert Kitson and several other English scribes. It has perhaps still to hit them that, for a winger to score tries to that extent he needs team mates prepared to feed him – and getting the ball to the wings as quickly and as often as possible is apparently Hermenutics in the English version of Rugby Union.




