Agustin Pichot. Photo / Photosport.co.nz
No wonder Agustin Pichot, the Argentinian vice-president of World Rugby, rattles cages in the northern hemisphere.
Just how he looks and sounds would be enough to bug some in the rugby establishment. By tradition a lot of the men at the helm of the world game have looked just one gin away from a coronary. Pichot, on the other hand, could pass for the lean, fit brother of Antonio Banderas, designer stubble and all.
He's a Johnny Foreigner who has the gall to say things that don't suit the way rugby has been run by the British since the days the old International Rugby Board was going to kick out the French before World War II because, gasp, there were suggestions some of the chaps across the Channel were getting travelling money from their clubs. It took an invasion by Adolf Hitler for the IRB to allow the French a second chance. I am not making that up.
The latest outrage from 45-year-old whippersnapper Pichot came when he called the world rankings "ridiculous". In one dizzying week, as Wales, without playing, overtook the All Blacks, who had just beaten Australia 36-0, and then the All Blacks, without playing, were back at the top when a second string Welsh side was beaten by Ireland, 22-17, that point was pretty well proven.
But the rankings are just a sideshow to where Pichot really wants to change the rugby world.
He was one of those trying to encourage a genuine, worldwide competition, an idea that has ground to a halt, partly because the Six Nations in Europe is a massive money machine that powers the British, Irish and French international game.
The reality is that self-interest dictates that helping, for example, the Pacific Island nations to genuinely challenge at the top level, would reveal that the northern game isn't really the pinnacle of test rugby at all. If a full strength, well prepared, Fiji, or Tonga, or Samoa, could consistently beat Scotland, for example, an element of charade in the Six Nations would be laid bare.
Pichot has also railed against the hypocrisy of fast tracking players into teams on the basis of just three years in a country they have no relationship with beyond a pay packet.
"When I see the national anthem, and people not singing it," he said last year, "it confuses me a little bit."
For that jibe, and listing the fact that 46 per cent of the players in the 2018 Scottish squad were not born in Scotland, he was accused of xenophobia and racism, one commentator describing him as "Nigel Farage in a T-shirt and blazer".
To be fair, the country of birth figures were a pretty blunt instrument, but Pichot's suggestion that at the least a player should live in a country for a minimum of five years before qualifying for a test start, did deserve a consideration it will probably never get.
(In passing, expect more media examination of the All Black squad in Japan. Having once faced deep scepticism from a London rugby writer when I said, correctly, that Jonah Lomu was born in Auckland, not Tonga, I doubt pointing out that Atu Moli was born in Gisborne, and Angua Ta'avoa in Auckland, will gain a lot of traction either. And yes, it's true that Sevu Reece came to New Zealand from Fiji to play rugby, but it wasn't for Waikato as a fully developed player, it was to go to Hamilton Boys' High. Reece is one of just three players in the 31 member All Black squad not born in New Zealand. The other two, Nepo Laulala and Ofa Tu'ungafasi, also arrived as schoolboys).
I applaud the fact Pichot isn't content to rubberstamp some of the more egregious habits of World Rugby. Sadly you can't help but wonder if any real change might have to come from an enlightened insider, rather than an outspoken outlier.
It should be no surprise that Owen Franks, whose natural inclination is to regard the spotlight with the same affection most of us have for root canal dentistry, took his dropping from the All Blacks with a stoic grace.
What did sting him into, for him, extensive comment, was the suggestion that somehow he hadn't returned to his best fitness levels after surgery on an Achilles tendon in 2017.
"If I compare myself to me three years ago, there's no doubt I'm moving better and am in better shape," he told journalist Richard Knowler this week.
In 2013 I wrote the foreword to the book Training Tough with Owen and his brother Ben. I wouldn't claim huge insight from that experience, but it was infinitely more collegial than a stilted after-match press conference. What I do know for sure is that the Franks brothers, as low key and likeable as they are, take a very keen and entirely reasonable pride in how they look after their bodies.
"You've got professional rugby players at the highest level," Crusaders' forward coach, Jason Ryan told me last year, "and then you've got Owen Franks, and how he prepares."
All Black coach Steve Hansen broke the story of Franks taking a protein shake to the reception when Franks was married in 2014. Last year Franks told me the story was true. "I wasn't 100 per cent sure that the caterers were going to have enough food, so I pre-packaged a protein shake," he laughed. "Just to make sure I wasn't going to get angry during the speeches."
The men who have now taken his place in the All Black front row may be quicker than Franks. But bet the farm on the fact they didn't overtake him because he was slacking at training.