Rugby v League: No contest when it comes to excitement

Picture / Rod Emmerson

Round one of the National Rugby League delivered a knockout blow to rugby which has instantly put its rule tinkering into perspective.

Comparing sports is a no-go area in some people's view, and maybe even my own in the past. But who knows why, because in the case of rugby and league, their matches compete for our television affections three days a week.

From this floating voter's perspective, league has already put a big hit on rugby.

One league game - between Manly and the Wests Tigers - said it all, revealing through comparison how far rugby has fallen as a spectacle that allows individual skill to flourish.

Five rounds of the Super 14 have failed to produce anything to match what Manly and the Wests Tigers came up with on Monday night, a classic of brutal power and brilliant playmaking, where a team that looked well beaten overcame an aggressive opponent through sheer skill.

Yes skill, that element which is supposed to drive all sport.

Manly were cruising to victory, and putting in a bit of arrogant biff as well, before Wests - masterminded by Tim Sheens and sparked by Benji Marshall - launched a counter-offensive that wiped the smile off Manly's face and slapped it on those of us who thrill to fabulous sport.

League continually produces something that is essential to wonderful contests yet is virtually non-existent in rugby - the thrilling finish. Rugby matches invariably peter out although on a good day someone might barge their way over the line or kick a winning penalty.

There are plenty of dud league games of course, and an over reliance on kicking at times. The weekend's match between the Warriors - who already look well worth their wooden spoon favouritism tag - and the Gold Coast Titans was an example of an ordinary contest of often poor skill.

Yet even then, there was more open field action at Skilled Park, in other words things you could actually see and admire rather than a mass of bodies piled up in front of an unforgiving referee or people barging into each other, than you will find in a host of rugby matches.

Tune in to a league match and there is a decent chance the heart will be racing down to the wire. The NRL throws up a couple of nailbiters every weekend.

Rugby just can't match this and it has become a game of patterns over personality.

In a majority of rugby matches, skill is unable to rise above desperate situations. Mistakes flow under pressure, and teams in the lead can close contests down.

In Europe, a so-called home of rugby, flair doesn't survive the opening kick-off. The only reason anyone might have enjoyed the weekend's clash between England and Scotland was for a good old laugh at someone else's expense.

All that money, coverage and pomp, to watch cumbersome brutes ploughing a field.

Tana Umaga, the All Black legend and new Counties-Manukau assistant coach, claimed in the Herald yesterday that league runaway Sonny Bill Williams had the makings of an international rugby loose forward.

Why, Tana? Why take the most brilliant ball playing giant in league, and turn him into a grafting rugby forward with his head stuck in rucks and mauls and scrums in between milling about waiting for someone to take a shot at goal or throw the ball into a lineout.

We all admire and cherish Richie McCaw, but for his courage and graft, not for anything that you would put in a highlights package.

On a good day, Williams might get to make a couple of runs and pass the ball once or twice. Wow.

Rugby is a marginally better game under the new tackle ball interpretation but you also see worrying signs of relapse. The bigger the occasion, the more rugby tends to shut down.

In contrast, league's skills flourish, from club to test level, and are even elevated at the heights.

Individually, rugby no longer produces stars to excite the masses.

Rugby is a game that has not survived professionalism all that well.

Take Zac Guildford. He's the next wonder wing apparently - but try as I might, there's nothing to see in Guildford that comes remotely close to emulating Bryan Williams, Gerald Davies, David Campese, John Kirwan, Jonah Lomu, Jeff Wilson or Inga Tuigamala. About all Zac Guildford seems to do is catch the ball and run fast.

As an excitement machine, he just doesn't rate next to league stars such as Billy Slater, Jarryd Hayne, Darren Lockyer, Robbie Farah, Greg Inglis, Benji Marshall and co.

Maestro Marshall, maybe the best rugby or league footballer I've ever seen for wizardry that works, also toyed with switching to rugby, presumably for the money.

Thank goodness he didn't.

His sensational skills would have been lost to the game he most suits, and just as lost in the game he does not suit.

Marshall reminds you of the young Carlos Spencer, and what he brought to rugby. Sadly, there's no room in rugby for the magical mavericks anymore.

* There's a message for the rich and famous in the Michael Clarke affair. If you demand that the public stay out of private lives, then keep your private life out of the public domain as best you can.

Clarke will have to cop whatever is coming his way, after nipping off from the Aussie cricket tour to undertake the imperative task of dumping his girlfriend in her latest and greatest hour of need. So much for a mercy dash.

Time off is warranted absolutely in some cases - births and deaths, yes, but not marriages cancelled. Clarke, like Lara Bingle, was simply having a superstar moment. He wouldn't have pulled a stunt like that on his first Aussie tour, rest assured.

And if a player requested time off to ditch a girl we'd never heard of, you'd probably never hear of the player again either. What next - Ricky Ponting being recalled by his wife so he could take the dog for a walk?

With the privilege of playing for your country comes some sacrifice - and not a hell of a lot in this case - none of which Clarke exhibited.

As for Michael Hussey requesting that everyone treat Joey Superstar with kid gloves, pull the other one pal.

* Sanzar has decided to exist, and will employ a chief executive. This is a wise move, although 15 years late. Until now, Sanzar was thought to be a close relative of the Loch Ness Monster.

If the inaugural chief executive was in place, a question to ask would be how did Ma'a Nonu get off a reckless tackle charge, having smacked his shoulder into the jaw of the Stormers' Peter Grant?

* The more you look at Chris Payne's arm-ball goal against the Phoenix, in the A-league playoff game, the more it is blatant cheating. The Sydney swindler clearly swings his arm at the ball. So he fooled the officials on the day, and is still at it with his post-match comments.

The A-league should have the power to suspend using video review. There is no way that Payne should play in the grand final against Melbourne. Allowing him to get away with this is an insult.

* What a treat. Test cricket returns this Friday. The Black Caps' prospects against Australia will rest heavily on the shoulders of the opening pair, Tim McIntosh and BJ Watling.

Sometime, somewhere, we must come up with the opening goods. The lack of authority in this area has not only cost New Zealand dear, but impacted on other players' careers.

Having right and left handed openers is a promising start. So, fingers crossed, McIntosh and Watling are the answer (Please).