In the immortal words of millionaire Australian league tragic John Singleton: “Anyone who doesn’t watch rugby league is not a real person. He’s a cow’s hoof, an ethnic or comes from Melbourne.” Charming, eh? And for anyone blessed with an ounce of objectivity, quite obviously stark staring bonkers.
What is it about sport that brings out such an extreme form of bunker mentality? The phenomenon is at its most extreme down under where, fuelled by a partisan media, each of the football codes – whether that be league, union, aerial ping-pong (see, I’m at it now) or, well, football – seems permanently about to wipe the others off the face of the dingo’s head. The notion that folk might actually have the time and inclination to enjoy more than one code appears never to occur. History has a large part to play in that, of course, particularly where the two rugby codes are concerned. From my admittedly biased vantage point it is league that more often than not holds the moral high ground in that debate. But really, when you consider the huge political strides that have been made in recent years in places like Ireland, Germany and South Africa, isn’t it about time that those of us who like to watch grown men chasing a bag of wind around on our weekends all just grew up?
At which point, anyone following me on Twitter last Saturday afternoon (@tonehannan) would be perfectly entitled to say ‘practice what you preach, boofhead’. And they might just be right. But did you actually watch any of the opening games of this year’s rugby union Six Nations? Hyped to high heaven by their standard-bearers-in-chief, the BBC, yet possessed of all the entertainment value of a three-hour trip to buy haemorrhoid ointment on an epileptic camel; that would be about the gist of it. And could I resist telling all the smug, brainless sheep tossing off a steady stream of 140 characters in the Twitterverse so? Could I hell. I mean, surely, anyone with half a brain and one working eye could see that there is just no comparison between the two codes on just about every meaningful level other than profile, whether that be the application of basic skills, a thrilling game plan or edge-of-the-seat excitement. Except that they apparently could not. The terms Six Nations, rugby union and the rest were actually ‘trending’ – ie they were a hot topic of discussion up and down the land. Quality, it seems, does not necessarily equal popularity. And just as I wasn’t alone among fans of the 13-a-side code in getting stuck into the rampant dreariness on display, so were there plenty of less-than-appreciative comments about the so-called ‘northern game’ flooding in the opposite direction. In particular, these seemed to come from the likes of Ireland and Scotland where, we might assume, the charms of a professional play-the-ball have seldom been encountered first hand.
Any road, the following day – and after being robbed of the ability to trumpet league’s greater appeal thanks to that fog-bound farce at Knowsley Road – I turned my attentions instead to the prospects of that night’s Superbowl. Over the last two or three seasons, I have grown partial to a game of Sunday night American Football. Baltimore Ravens are my team, for no other reason than The Wire was based and filmed there. The Ravens hadn’t made it this year but, what the heck, it would be worth staying up for anyway. And then I read some of the comments in the totalrl.com’s other sports forum and elsewhere. The majority of league fans, it seems, thought American Football a big fat waste of time. Overhyped, too much media coverage, stop and start, all the clichés about pads and helmets… you name it. Utterly ridiculous. And from time to time, you can find similar debates on there regarding football (or ‘Wendyball’ as that sport’s more vociferous critics would somewhat mysteriously have it) and cricket.
Ultimately, I suppose, it’s all about having an open mind, isn’t it? Recognising that there is more than enough room for everyone and every sport and following the advice of Thumper the rabbit’s mum that: “if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all.” And also, while we are it, recognising how important growing up around a particular sport can actually be if we are to develop a deep, meaningful and lifelong passion for a social activity whose impact extends way beyond a mere 80 or 90 minutes on a stretch of grass or artificial turf. All the more reason to ensure that rugby league’s ongoing worldwide development work continues apace.
Just don’t expect me to take a blind bit of notice of any of the above once that bloody tedious Six Nations kick-and-clapathon kicks off again, that’s all.
