If the Harlequins team doctor had the slightest hint of what was going on during the European quarter-final she should face the full rigours of her medical profession
I KNOW I’ve referred to American football coach Tony D’Amato’s unforgettable “speech of inches” drawn from the film Any Given Sunday before but “Bloodgate” has brought it back to me. Those who’ve seen it will agree it’s the ideal clip to show your flagging troops to engender team spirit. But for those film buffs who’ve taken time out to view the film in full will have come across some very seedy characters. It’s a stark insight into where professional sport has evolved in the USA and worryingly, the potential in professional rugby. The “Rivers of Blood” more like.
American football by its nature is a team sport made up of individuals, all of whom are focused on their role. At professional level their ability to star in that role ensures endorsements beyond their wildest dreams. Over here we’re fully aware of the testimonial year where 10 years in the same club is awarded by a big payday celebration. In the US it’s much more specific than that, and yardage gained, tackle counts and intercepts over a career can result in big bonuses.
It’s hard to be a team player when you’re one tackle short of a million dollar payout. Thus was the scenario for Luther “Shark” Lavay, the big 21st linebacker for the fictitious Miami Sharks. Many people relied on him making that last tackle. The trouble for him was simple. He had suffered multiple concussions along the way.
The team owner, a very aggressive and athletic Cameron Diaz, was under severe pressure to succeed in a man’s world. The coach Al Pacino’s reputation was at stake so the team had to win – which meant Lavay had to play. Sharks team doctor Dr Harvey Mandrake (James Woods) stepped up to the plate. He, too, was offered a fat contract. All he had to do was sign off on Lavay’s ability to play one last time.
It sounds far-fetched but doctors the length and breadth of this country are making these tough decisions every day of the week. Clearly they do so with the player’s safety uppermost and the fixture as a poor second.
Countless times during my career doctors have made very tough calls, based on both my gut feeling and his, whether I’d take the pitch. It’s a very grey area and one that must be treated with the utmost sensitivity. How did he know for sure that my prolapsed disc was stable? Did he think of me or the match? To answer my own question, I’ve been very fortunate that the numerous physios and doctors I trusted were spot on with their support and assessments of my many injuries.
However, James Woods was prepared to cross that line where glory was at stake. In last season’s Heineken Cup fixture against Leinster were Harlequins’ medical team drifting dangerously close to that edge?
The farce that has visited us from The Stoop raises one key issue. Clearly people will cheat, chance their arm and when the referee’s not looking even swing a fist. I’d certainly forgive the player, bar the wink. I’d even have some degree of sympathy for Dean Richards for all he was doing was cheating. And as the tongue-in-check sporting adage goes, “If you’re not cheating, you’re not trying”. Both have deservedly received hefty bans. But I’d have zero tolerance for the medicos and more specifically, for the team doctor. Was the Harlequins doctor prepared to take it to such a reckless level? And at what cost to the player?
Where a doctor may turn a blind eye on a sachet of ketchup, will they do worse and ignore an actual injury or create an injury? Would she pass an injured player fit for battle if the fixture warranted it? Any doctor who plays Russian roulette with the Hippocratic Oath should be treated with the greatest weight of the law.
Parents of future players of all codes need to know they are in trusted hands where cheating with injuries for the sake of a match simply doesn’t happen.
If the Harlequins team doctor had the slightest hint of what was going on during the European Cup quarter-final she should face the full rigours of her esteemed medical profession.
So to this weekend. It’s clearly far too early to predict any outcome for the upcoming season. But I do look forward to exploring the topic of rugby styles evolving from the four provinces as the weeks drift by. Leinster’s silverware and additions will give them real confidence to remain boldly loyal to their style.
Munster with their new additions appear to have the ability to not just alter their playing style week on week, but crucially, mid-match. For they can select a very different nine, 10, 12, 13, 15 axis each week or they can simply make those changes mid-match.
For instance, Peter Stringer, Ronan O’Gara, Jean de Villiers (6ft 3in, 16st 3lb) Lifeimi Mafi and Keith Earls can start the match in those key attacking positions, with Tomás O’Leary, Paul Warwick, Mafi, Earls and Doug Howlett finishing the match.
That is a very potent tool that can alter a style so drastically mid-match.
On a lighter note, while enjoying a cup of coffee in O’Dwyers pub last week the new Munster jersey was unveiled by the proprietor to all and sundry. It has taken another major step away from the baggy red jersey of yore, much more streamlined to cover the ever evolving athlete inside. But it includes a very clever addition on the bottom hemline. In gold thread each of the six counties of Munster are embroidered. The fact the county names will be tucked safely into the player’s shorts may add even more strength to the brand. I wonder do the remaining three provinces have their county names strategically placed D4, D6, D8, D10 . . . only kidding!
liamtoland@yahoo.com
