New Zealand’s Band of Brothers face battle for rugby’s soul

In their respective homelands, New Zealanders and South Africans regard this Rugby World Cup final as returning their two great rugby nations to their rightful seats at the head of the top table. While the rest of us, rugby’s great unwashed, jostle for the cheap seats to watch the big boys fight over the main prize.

New Zealand and South Africa’s rivalry represents an existential internal battle within rugby that is as old as the game itself. If we accept the myth that William Webb Ellis was a highly creative, mischievous boy who in a moment of genius picked up the ball in a game of soccer and ran away, then we also have to accept that a few brief seconds later, young Billy got creamed in a belter of tackle by some behemoth.

Most likely a South African student attending the boarding school. Well, that’s the myth anyway.

Like all fairytales, it does hold some truth. Since its inception, rugby’s conscience has been torn between the beauty of skill and the blunt trauma of physicality.

The Counter Ruck: the rugby newsletter from The Irish Times

---

The Counter Ruck: Does rugby need the 20-minute red card?

---

Johnny Watterson: Is this Ireland team in danger of flattering to deceive?

---

Rónan Kelleher: ‘The lineout clicked last weekend, but there was no major revamp’

---

A country’s rugby team plays at their greatest when they reflect the national character of their land. The Springboks have always reflected savage beauty. Across the long history of our international game, the physical aggression of the Springboks has prevailed over the vast majority of their opponents.

Traditionally it has only been the Kiwis who have been able to stand toe-to-toe with the Springboks and match their physical prowess.

For this final, the Springboks have once again exploited a loophole in rugby’s scrum safety laws and have selected seven giant forwards, appallingly nicknamed The Bomb Squad, on their bench. The Springboks are making their intentions very clear. They want a physical war.

In a world that habitually genuflects before the altar of the black jersey, this New Zealand team are unique because before this tournament they were dismissed as simply not good enough.

For the last four years, they have been humiliated and condemned by their own people. Their captain Sam Cane and their head coach Ian Foster have been criticised beyond what any reasonable person would describe as acceptable. The abuse the Kiwis have been forced to endure from their own people has been a disgraceful chapter in New Zealand’s rugby history.

The fact that their so-called “limited” team has made it to a World Cup final is a testament to their determination to ram the entire unedifying episode down the collective throats of those who attacked them so viciously back home.

[ Matt Williams: Future of rugby at stake unless we learn from past scrum horrors ]

Interestingly, it has been reported that the Kiwis say they have adopted the spirit of Easy Company from the second World War TV series Band of Brothers. The story traces Easy Company’s journey across France, from D-Day to VE-Day. Or as Dalton Papalii put it: “They’ve got the bomb squad, we could be like Easy Company and go on and finish the job and be in the trenches.”

The South Africans find themselves the complete opposite of their opponents on almost every front. The current world champions are showered with adoration in their homeland, held aloft in a cult like status. Their coach Rassie Erasmus is regarded as a Gandalf-like figure, a highly-entertaining genius possessing mysterious, even magical, telepathic powers. And their captain Siya Kolisi is adored in his homeland like few other sportspeople.

The dynamic created by the confrontation of these two rugby greats has created a vortex of deep intrigue and anticipation. Yet I fear that the outcome may be determined by the two great blights that are afflicting our game and have tarnished this World Cup.

Poor standards from our officiating community and the abuse of poorly legislated laws have transformed minor technical scrum infringements into match-winning events. When combined, these two have created a deeply unjust bias towards scrums determining matches.

[ Matt Williams on Irish rugby: The ultimate heartbreak rests in understanding the truth. You failed ]

While scrums are an integral part of our game and must remain a physical contest for possession, they were never intended to be the source of victory or defeat via penalties. For 180 years of rugby history, that was not the case. The tumour began to grow in recent years as legislators foolishly made the disastrous decision to change technical scrum infringements – which had been free kicks, meaning teams could not kick for goal or for touch to get the lineout throw – into full penalties.

This myopic change incentivised teams to scrummage for penalties. This has radically changed how rugby is played because backline attacks from scrums, which are the best attacking platform in the game, have dramatically declined.

The power of seven South African forwards coming off the bench, added to the illegal scrummaging tactics of their flankers – who detach their bind from the locks and drive into the opposition props (and have never been once penalised for it in the tournament) – are gaining multiple scrum penalties late in games that are determining the outcome of matches.

In the final we can expect the following sequences of play.

Scrum. Penalty. Kick at goal. Three points.

Scrum. Kick to touch and maul. Try.

Notice what is missing? Backlines.

Of course, the South African selection of seven forwards on the bench is also a high risk gamble. If a back is injured or gets carded, especially scrumhalf Faf De Klerk as there is no replacement for his position, the Boks will be in deep trouble. They have placed all their money on winning scrum penalties to retain the title.

I admire the high rugby intellect demonstrated in the strategic thinking of the Springboks, while at the same time despairing for the soul of our game. Rugby was meant to inspire by the enjoyment and participation of all 15 players. The game should be a thing of beauty and exhilaration, not a blunt instrument with which you bludgeon your opponent to death.

Perhaps the Kiwis being cast as Easy Company – a liberating force, manned by a Band of Brothers who are underdogs in a battle for an ideal – is not so far-fetched after all.