It's clear that England prop Joe Marler sees himself and his on-field behaviour as more comedic than tasteless. Photo / Photosport
It's clear that England prop Joe Marler sees himself and his on-field behaviour as more comedic than tasteless. Photo / Photosport
OPINION:
If England rugby prop Joe Marler had just shut up after being banned, effectively for only two weeks, after calling Kiwi loose forward Jake Heenan’s sick mum a “f****** w****”, he might not have looked quite such a “moron” — his own wife’s description of him in this context.
But, no, Marler tried to justify his sledging indiscretion (Heenan’s mother was in hospital with cancer) as “the norm” after sparking a fracas in the Harlequins match against Heenan’s Bristol.
In a podcast, where he apologised to everybody (in addition to a personal, accepted, apology to Heenan), Marler called himself “a bit of a helmet” but then tried to rationalise what happened: “I’m much better at that when it comes to a bit of chat or a bit of sledging. I’m usually better than just calling someone’s mum a w****. Usually, stuff like this is said. This is the norm. Now, that may not be an excuse, but is kind of a bit of a reason that you go, ‘Well, it’s the norm, it’s normalised’.”
Nope, don’t think so. Here’s what former England hooker and media pundit Brian Moore wrote in the Daily Telegraph in response: “Out of a career of 17 years of senior rugby there are only a handful [of sledges] that I genuinely heard; most of the time you were either fighting or gasping for breath. Let us not run away with the myth that there was ever a golden era of sledging.”
He’s right. My own modest but thoroughly enjoyable rugby career went on for decades, finally retiring in my 50s — and I can’t recall any worthwhile sledges uttered on the field. The one that most readily comes to mind was from one of our senior club props on the sideline, growing impatient that the player he was to replace was showing no signs of coming off at the appointed time: “You wouldn’t come off if you were in an iron lung,” he bellowed at his teammate.
Most rugby insults on the field are pretty unimaginative; genuine wit is rare. Former All Blacks coach and Waitematā halfback John Hart was a tremendous talker on the field, his verbal analysis of opponents cutting and delivered at volume. I seem to recall him being chased off the field by an opponent after one Eden Park match, his pursuer injuring himself by slipping over in the players’ tunnel, subsequently unable to play for Auckland.
Another Westie halfback, Suburbs’ Barry Riley, once called me “a girl” during a long-ago match on Eden Park. I prefer to think I remember this because we beat Suburbs that day and I scored a try, rather than recalling the barb. It’s a pretty good example of the lack of wit in what passes for rugby sledging. Still, Riley went on to lift the Gallaher Shield later in his career — not a feat I can lay claim to.
Back to Marler. In recent years, the big prop has created an image of himself as some kind of loveable rogue, a jolly prankster. The reality is that he isn’t very funny — but he seems to be indulged a lot because of his frank admission of his clinical depression and how he uses laughter as a coping mechanism.
Fair enough — but infamously grabbing an opponent’s genitals and racially labelling another as a “gypsy boy” seem to be jokes in which only he sees the humour, let alone insulting someone’s mum, even if he didn’t know she was ill.
Marler can’t even call it gamesmanship. His recent autobiography outlines how he unsettles opponents by various methods — breaking into song as a scrum is put down; the cunning foot stamp; the nipple tweak; the hair pull. All schoolboy stuff. No real humour or colour there. Perhaps the greatest gamesmanship exponent of all time, Muhammad Ali, did it with panache and inventiveness. Many think his first world title, defeating the menacing Sonny Liston, came about partly because Liston thought he was in the ring with an insane person. His trademark “Ali Shuffle” footwork was designed to intimidate and unsettle as well as entertain.
Joe Marler is certainly no Muhammed Ali. Photo / Photosport
When Ali changed his name from Cassius Clay, opposing heavyweight Ernie Terrell publicly decided he would not use the new name. When they fought, Ali deliberately dished out 15 rounds of precise punishment, tormenting Terrell by clipping him hard and demanding after each punch landed: “What’s my name?” His most famous sledge (“That all you got, George?”) was whispered in the ear of the huge George Foreman as Ali famously let the big man punch himself out.
Ali could be cruel — his treatment of Joe Frazier a case in point — but I don’t think he ever called anyone’s mum a w****. Marler needs to tidy up his act, as he will never rise to Ali’s heights of cleverness; he simply doesn’t have the talent to be the jester he seems to want to be.
Rugby needs to tidy up that side of things too, so that people can’t call that kind of abuse “normal” or “banter” — and so it attracts a punishment that might actually deter it.
