League: Computers all very well but they don't beat an eyeball

Graeme "Natty" Norton, a key man on Kiwi coach Brian McClennan's staff, was bursting with his usual enthusiasm.

"You've got to talk to the doc," said Norton, a New Zealand coach himself in the Super League era.

"The doc was there at the beginning helping design all this time-motion stuff."

It's hardly surprising that Norton should invoke time-motion.

The frenetic Norton never stands still and is the Kiwis' star onfield runner, revving up the troops and relaying instructions.

The "doc" he was pointing to is Kiwi team doctor Simon Mayhew. The study of sports time-motion has advanced to a point where papers on the subject look like Einstein creations.

You still find the name Mayhew in those texts referring to his pioneering work in Canada 20-plus years ago, although ironically the doctor himself has become sceptical about technology overuse.

Time-motion is the video-computer tracking of players to detail their workload, and it influences training programmes.

This system allowed Norton to reveal that Kiwi lock Simon Mannering had already covered about 9km in the first Tri-Nations test when he attempted to chase down Aussie centre Mark Gasnier over 90 metres at Mt Smart.

Mayhew's interest in time-motion started with a simple question about his own soccer career: How did the relentless 12-minute training runs relate to the game?

"I was probably trying to get out of doing them," he says.

In the late 1970s, an Otago University physical education lecturer had Mayhew and fellow students tick off basic running statistics at sports matches.

So when Mayhew studied for his masters degree in Canada, he enlisted a statistics expert to design a simple Apple computer program to use with video.

The guinea pig was a kid in a soccer team whom Mayhew taped. He found the youngster ran about 10km, 12 per cent of his time sprinting.

This initial system involved hours of video watching and key tapping. Around this time, students even tried taping football from the top of a 12-storey hall of residence.

Mayhew gave blood for his project, literally, after enlisting undergraduates to go over the same tapes to test his accuracy.

"In return I'd help with their studies, like giving blood samples," says Mayhew, who enrolled in medical school on returning to New Zealand.

There were other time-motion attempts. An Australian named Withers was prominent. In England, someone counted every stride of soccer referees in a drive to improve their fitness.

A famous All Black lock had Mayhew video and analyse his game. At the time, basic statistics weren't taken of lineout or scrum numbers.

Time has not stood still for time-motion.

The latest buzzword is GPS - global positioning systems - although it raises issues.

What if only one team have access to it and it is used tactically during games?

"I believe at some elite rugby levels they are using GPS, but as research, so the information is only available much later," says Mayhew.

"But the pen and paper is still very effective. Very simple video analysis gives what you need.

"Is GPS going to give us much more? I don't know. People involved have been a bit disappointed with the results and it is expensive.

"You can get carried away with computers. A good coach and trainer can work it out themselves. An eyeball beats a computer."

There's no beating what sport should be all about - the human aspect.

Science gets you information, but not all of it useful. Heart monitors once revealed that American basketball coaches had higher rates than the players.

Coaches have also become wary of misusing video because players can be affected during matches, knowing a mistake will be highlighted on Monday.

Mayhew doesn't go within cooee of a computer to nominate a super-athlete.

"David Kidwell," he says, referring to the Kiwi second- rower, "the way he prepares himself and trains, the flexibility, his amazing strength - you should see him in the wrestling drills.

"David's a fine athlete - I wonder what other sports he could have excelled at internationally

"His high-intensity work when he is flat out is phenomenal. He's like a dry sponge absorbing great information."