The Law Is An Ass - Time We Got A Horse

BE IT the gleaming granite of the Silver City of Aberdeen, or those wonderful red sandstone terraces in the Dear Green City of Glasgow, Scotland is awash with magnificent stone buildings.

But, when it comes to “stane brains” well, I think Scottish sport has the monopoly, within the corridors of power. In my 50-year career at the coal-face of sports-writing, covering nearly 60 different sports, at every level from the grass-roots to elite international competition, the single common denominator is the obvious lack of intellectual capacity among Scottish sports officials.

I doubt if we will ever be free from this institutionalised failure. I sometimes get the impression, as well as being fitted-out for the official SRU clobber, newcomers to the Murrayfield Establishment also have to report to the Union's private hospital of choice to have half their brains removed. Only half, however, when you get to three-quarters of a brain being removed, you're officially one of Will Carling's “Old Farts.”

'Left Field,' firm friend of this blog and a regular below the line contributor, is a deep thinker on the game. He recently sent me an immensely-detailed pdf document, comparing Irish and Scottish rugby. This is such a well-researched and comprehensive piece of work, it will keep me going over a few blog posts. However, at the end,LF turned his forensic mind to the Laws of the Game.

I have to agree with him, the Laws as currently worded, interpreted and enforced (or not), are not fit for purpose and need massive re-working. However, I would go further. I think the day has arrived when we have to have law variations between the Game, as played by the professionals, and the Game, as played for fun by the vast majority of its participants. Doing this, and getting the balance correct, will be a major feat, and Ah hae ma doots about the ability of World Rugby to oversee the overhaul.

One of Rugby Union's great and lasting legends is the sorry tale of how we came to have the present dog's dinner of the ruck law foisted on us. Back in the day, if you went to ground on or near the ball, you were in grave danger of what Fin Calder termed: “a guid shooin',” that is to say, the entire opposition pack would trample you underfoot in their earnest desire to get the ball back. Back then, there were no hands in the ruck, the ball had to be played by a foot and how that happened didn't matter.

There were, however, unwritten Laws back then, if you kicked an opponent in the head, you were fair game for retribution, but, basically, anywhere from the neck down was a legitimate target. Sure we had injuries, yes, I played back then and have taken my shirt off post-match to reveal neat tram lines, where I had been rucked off the ball, just as I had stood on a few opponents (and the odd team mate) in return.

But, I don't think we had the head knocks or the knee and ankle injuries which so afflict the “Jackalers” operating under today's rucking laws. I am an unashamed advocate for the return of real rucking, but, I fear the armies of Elfin Safety will fight me to the death to prevent this. Then there will be the watching mothers, aghast at dear Nigel or Rodney being trampled over by the opposition and complaining loudly to the Daily Mail's letters page.

Any way, back to how we got to where we are today. Legend has it the RFU were getting some flak, apparently the Barbour Brigade didn't like seeing stout English yeomen being trampled over by nasty big Boers, Pacific Islanders clad entirely in black, or worse, the Jocks and the Micks. Something had to be done, so the Nigels began to agitate at World Rugby meetings for a change in the rucking law.

Eventually, after a bloody good dinner in one of the London gentlemen's clubs in St James's, the subject was raised. The port and cigars had been round, everyone was slightly mellow, so, off came the dinner jackets and various alternatives to the “rucked ball must be played with the foot” law were walked through. Eventually, it was decided, handling in the ruck would be allowed, and that was the end of rucking as we had known it.

It was an obvious mistake, but, now, nobody will admit a bad boob was made, nobody will say the unsaid: “I think we should go back to ruck ball having to be played by a foot,” and until someone has the cojones to suggest this – the game will continue to be blighted by the bourach which is the current ruck law.

Of course, it would help if the game's world governing body insisted the current laws were rigidly enforced – squint scrum feeds; the penalty mark being used as the starting point of a pre-kick run-up, rather as the mark through which the ball must be kicked; hookers throwing-into lines-out from inside the touch line; these are all laws regularly flouted today without censure.

I have even seen it mooted, and the suggestion may have merit, that the referee should feed the scrum to ensure fair play. Well, match officials re-start play in other sports, why not Rugby Union. After all, the scrum is our equivalent of football's “stoat-up” (or dropped ball for our English readers), which is a means of re-starting play.

Of course, football has de-powered the stoat-up, I recall one between Neil Mochan of Celtic and Rangers' Bobby Shearer at Celtic Park, where they burst the ball as they kicked it simultaneously. This couldn't happen today.

I am more and more convinced, if grass roots “Community Rugby” is to survive as the purest form of the game – as a game for all shapes and sizes – then the Laws will need serious work. The task of doing this make-over is, for me, a matter of urgency.