Dialogue: Rugby's revival begins with this critical test

By JOE BENNETT

Just like you, I bemoan the state of rugby. Just like you I have followed it over the years with a devotion that has worn three sofas to the springs.

Just like you I feel impotent to affect the current decline. Just like you I am bamboozled by the laws, frustrated by defeats and heavily pot-bellied.

But unlike you I have decided to act.

I realise that I cannot change the laws. I realise that I shall never lead the All Blacks to victory on Eden Park. And I realise that I shall never coach a team over the age of 8.

But there is one way in which I can do my bit for the game we all love. My mission is commentary.

With the proliferation of television channels and other media, there is no doubt that incompetents by the score have found their way to the wrong side of the microphone. The results have pained us all. Standards have slipped.

So I have slithered from the sofa, cast aside my beer and taken up the pen.

Using a catechistic system patented by Myles na Gopaleen, I have devised an assessment test which all rugby commentators should be obliged to pass before being allowed to ride the airwaves.

The test is here supplied with answers. If you wish to judge your own potential as a commentator, cover the answers with a book. If you don't own a book, use a beer can. If you don't own a beer can, you've failed.

Assessment test for rugby commentators:

On what agricultural terrain are all games to be played?

A paddock.

On this paddock what imperial units of measurement are renowned for their durability?

The hard yards.

And are these hard yards: a) achieved; b) run; c) fought for?

None of the above. They are done.

And by which constricted, parsimonious or possibly drunken quintet are they done?

The tight five.

And what apparent verb must this quintet establish in place of momentum?

Go forward

Which girls must have a nose for the ball?

The Lucies.

And at what scene of automotive or psychological disaster should the Lucies be the first to arrive?

The breakdown.

And how must officials refer to the breakdown?

Tackled ball.

Who has tackled the ball?

Nobody knows

How must a player arrive at a tackled ball?

On his feet.

And if he arrives there by any other form of locomotion, will he be penalised?

No.

No?

No, he will be pinged.

To no what will his protests be?

Avail.

Poor chap.

Indeed.

And if one of the larger players acquires possession of the ball, in what direction will he crash it?

Up.

And if his progress is unimpeded and he crosses the try line, will he score?

No he will dot down.

If he dots down under the posts, from where will the conversion kick be taken?

Out in front.

Left out in front?

No, right out in front.

In what alternative manner could the kicker propel the ball over the crossbar from right out in front?

He could throw it over.

Does he?

I would like to see it.

What does violence occasionally do on the paddock?

It erupts.

Is it violence?

No, it is fisticuffs

Always fisticuffs?

No. It can be biffo.

And what alliterative and euphonious quantity of biffo is it?

A little bit of biffo.

And how will you find it?

Appalling or disgraceful

And with what paralinguistic feature will you imply that it is neither appalling nor disgraceful but thoroughly enjoyable?

Your tone of voice.

What acronym has led to the demise of New Zealand rugby?

The IRB

What geometric location of effeminacy, incompetence and senility does the IRB inhabit?

The Northern Hemisphere

To what elderly emissions must all members of the IRB be likened?

Old farts.

How much of this have you had?

Enough.