Some may cry ‘tokenism’, but our men’s rugby side needs a boost.
You probably missed it, but a courageous and hardworking New Zealand sports team put their bodies on the line for their country over the weekend. They gave it their all, they battled for 80 minutes, and they won. In the early hours of Monday morning, the New Zealand men’s rugby union team, nicknamed “the All Blacks” and ranked third in the world in the male form of the game, scraped out a 31-23 win over the Scottish men, ranked eighth.
Did they exhibit the dynamism and strategy, the skill and coruscating starpower of the World Cup winning Black Ferns? They did not. The spark, guile and heart of the Samoan side that edged England to make the rugby league world cup final? No. The raw sex appeal of the opening weekend in the Cazoo Grand Slam of Darts at the Aldersley Leisure Village, Wolverhampton? Clearly not.
But however easy it would be to overlook and ignore the result in a busy weekend of sport, this small but important victory for a spirited New Zealand side should be acknowledged. We should stand up and put our hands together. Specifically, put our hands together three times then awkwardly blurt out “All Blacks” then put our hands together another three times then sit down.
The All Blacks boys might not be the heroes of the day, dominating headlines and water cooler conversations. But they have potential. They have pluck. At least one of their players (Ardie Savea) is so good you could imagine him throwing a ball around with the Black Ferns. With the right support and media training, some of the men’s side, too, could plausibly capture the imaginations of young New Zealanders.
The record of the men’s side may be indifferent across recent times. They may have struggled to recapture the golden years enjoyed under acclaimed captains like Colin Meads, Richie McCaw and John Key. They may very often look like the world’s saddest robots. There may no longer be the flair of barnstorming back play, broken feet and unpouched testicles. But we must not write the lads off.
It will not happen overnight. We cannot ask the men to immediately emulate the national rugby team’s performance at Eden Park on Saturday night and beat their English counterparts at Twickenham. But they must begin a journey of learning.
If they study the methods and mentality of the national side – if they draw on the leadership of Ruahei Demant, the genius of Theresa Fitzpatrick and Sarah Hirini, the sparkling skills and sheer elation of Stacey Fluhler and Ruby Tui – one day the All Blacks can hope to become a sensation, too. One day, with the necessary support, willingness to learn, and discovery of human personality, their day will come, especially if those who head along to watch them can take lessons of their own. Specifically, how to sing, how to inspire, and how to radiate on to the playing field thrill and enthusiasm rather than tuneless complacency, gloom and indigestion.
The Black Ferns themselves have a role to play. Some will argue it is “tokenism” to speak up for the men’s side. Others, worse still, will say that giving the boys a leg up amounts to “hush money” for the woke brigade. “Sexism!” they will howl at every suggestion men’s rugby must be saved – let it be euthanised, they will say; put it down like a sorry old horse.
But the Black Ferns are bigger than all that. They have athleticism, camaraderie and charisma to burn. They surely will understand the need to give the men’s game a lift. To believe. When the Black Ferns next take the field for a test here in Aotearoa they should do the right thing, and invite the All Blacks to play their own game in the curtain-raiser.