Scott Robertson performed a breakdance to celebrate winning the 2022 Super Rugby final and stuck to tradition this year by busting out his best celebratory b-boy moves. Photo / NZME
Scott Robertson performed a breakdance to celebrate winning the 2022 Super Rugby final and stuck to tradition this year by busting out his best celebratory b-boy moves. Photo / NZME
Last weekend, I did something that I almost never do, I watched some sports. Well, technically it wasn’t actually sports, it was the end of the Super Rugby final between the Chiefs and the Crusaders. My partner was watching it in another room in the house and I hadzero intention of joining him, but when I heard that the Crusaders had won, my interest was piqued. It was the post-match celebrations I cared about. I wanted to see if Scott ‘Razor’ Robertson was going to stick to tradition and bust out his best celebratory b-boy moves.
True to form, he did not disappoint. This year marked the end of Robertson’s seven-year tenure as head coach of the Crusaders Super Rugby franchise. As I typed that sentence, I had a sort of out-of-body experience because nobody is more shocked than I am at the fact I’m attempting to write about sports. Anyway, back to the “sportsing” chat, I can’t remember when I first learned about Scott Robertson’s infamous break dancing, but I do remember how it made me feel.
I found him intriguing. Here was a top professional Kiwi rugby coach choosing to express his joy at winning a championship match by dancing. In front of his players, in front of a massive crowd, and in front of all those cameras, and it struck me, he simply didn’t care who was watching or what anyone else thought of him.
Was he the best breakdancer? Not by a long shot. But it didn’t matter, I loved his commitment and I found it rather endearing.
You see, I’ll be the first to admit I have little to no interest in watching rugby - which is ironic given that my life partner of almost 12 years was a professional rugby player and is now an NPC coach. I informed him I was attempting to write a bit about rugby this week and he looked at me slightly bemused and said, “This will be interesting, your rugby knowledge hasn’t improved in 12 years - Is it a knock on or offside when the maul collapses?” To be fair, he’s not wrong. In my defence, though, I don’t need to understand the rules of rugby to appreciate Scott Robertson’s breakdancing and why I find him appealing on a more human level.
I’ve seen and heard people on social media criticise Robertson for being too “out there” and that his breakdancing is “cringe”, which is sad really because they’re missing the point. For me, it’s refreshing to see someone like him, in an industry that’s traditionally teeming with old-school toxic masculinity, so openly and unreservedly express himself and his feelings of elation in this way.
He gives me serious Ted Lasso vibes, and I’m so here for it. I have a bit of a soft spot for anyone brave enough to buck tradition. As a nation, we have a reputation for being humble to a fault, but on the flip side, that’s also where a bit of tall poppy syndrome can rear its ugly head. When someone has the courage to stand out from the crowd or do things a little unconventionally, it’s often met with some pretty harsh public judgment and criticism, which is a shame.
After watching Robertson perform his swan song, or in this case, his signature helicopter move as coach of the Crusaders, my partner Adam reminded me that he’d be coaching the All Blacks next year. I can’t help but feel a little bit excited about it. For so long, I think what’s really put me off rugby and most male-dominated sports is this stoic stereotype that’s long been encouraged and portrayed. It’s a cultural paradigm that I think has had a direct impact on men’s mental health in this country. Growing up, it was phrases like “show no emotion”, “harden up and get on with it” that I heard being thrown around at my high school First XV games. Boys were taught to be strong and invulnerable, and that showing any kind of emotion is a sign of weakness. Perhaps that’s why Scott Robertson appeals to me so much. This breakdancing b-boy coach is far from conventional, and with seven consecutive Super Rugby championships under his belt, it seems to me like he’s on to something good.
