The game that claims to be for everybody has become a game for nobody.
Rugby's oft-repeated mantra that it is a game for all shapes and sizes — and, more recently, genders — has always been a touch dubious. Ask a pencil-necked geek with the co-ordination of a sherrytrifle whether rugger is a game for them, and it's not guaranteed they'll answer in the affirmative.
But, the deeply physically-challenged aside, the sport is inclusive. Whatever your body type and disposition, there's pretty much a position in a rugby team tailor-made for you to hide in.
These days, there's no shortage of things that can bar you from participation in a game of footy.
There's being too slow to avoid clashing heads with an on-rushing opponent; there's not being able to fly — so once airborne when attempting a charge down you find yourself unable to change course; there's being too unco to intercept a pass cleanly; and there's having the misfortune to play in a position not crucial to holding up a scrum.
All of these attributes, the weekend's international matches showed, can result in you being barred from participating in a game of rugby, either temporarily or for an entire match.
At the highest level, rugby has become more Squid Game than sports contest, with the arbitrary elimination of participants a central plot-point. The main difference is that one of those two entertainment products remains hugely popular.
In the television show Squid Game participants are eliminated as the game progresses.
Rugby fans are being burned off by the zealous, albeit correct, application of the rules of their sport. Whether they're hating on the refs, the TMOs, or the rules themselves, a good chunk of sport's fanbase are definitely hating it.
How has it come to this?
The first part of the answer is well understood. In a desire to protect players from serious long-term injuries — and no doubt the game's institutions from serious, long-term court cases — rugby has had to change its rules to become safer.
But rugby changes its rules — sorry 'laws' for the pretentious twats out there — pretty much constantly.
The reason it has butchered this particular area so badly is that it has forgotten that it is, at its core, a game. And that people play games for enjoyment. Yes, it's annoying to have one's Saturday evening entertainment product routinely ruined by eagle-eyed TMOs but let's imagine, just for once, how the players involved in these game-defining incidents must feel.
How would Angus Ta'avao, Leicester Fainga'anuku and Ardie Savea reflect on their experience from Saturday night?
All Black prop Angus Ta'avao leaves the field with a red card during the test against Ireland. Photo / Getty Images
As professionals, they'll doubtless suck it up, focus on the next match and work on the little things, or some other awesome cliché that needs urgent attention.
But what if they weren't professionals? What if they were just dudes who played for enjoyment? What if they — and here's a thought — instead of being paid to play, had to pay $300 in annual subs for the privilege of taking the field? How then would they be reflecting on the level of satisfaction gained from their weekend's sporting endeavours?
They'd say it sucked, obviously.
They'd feel victimised. And they'd be right. Because once upon a time in a galaxy not all that far away, being sent from the field was a sanction reserved for intentional, serious foul play, or persistent infringement.
Rugby players weren't sent off for being involved in accidents. Ever. It just wasn't a thing. And now it is. And we all hate it. The players hate it. The match officials hate it. And the fans hate it.
But, safety — right?
Yes, safety is important. Knowing what we know now about head injuries it would be negligent not to act to make the game safer. But is this current mess really the price that must be paid?
Absolutely not.
The problem is that, in an attempt to fix itself, the game has focused only on outcomes, while completely sidelining the participant experience. It has lost sight of what it is — a game that should be played, and viewed, for enjoyment.
So, what is the answer?
A good start would be reviewing the laws around head clashes and airborne collisions with a view to participant experience. If a sanction is going to ruin a game for a player who has done nothing more than be involved in an accident, the sanction should be altered to mitigate that outcome.
Those who draft the laws should ask themselves: "If I was a player and this happened to me, how would I feel? Would I still enjoy the game?"
Dollars to doughnuts they never once did that when drafting the latest abominable rendition of the rules.
Participant experience has clearly been removed from the equation. If the game wants to save itself, it needs to put it back - front and centre.
If the players are having fun, it'll be a fun game to watch.
But if participants being arbitrarily eliminated is going to be part of the package, there are better entertainment options out there. You can guarantee Netflix is working on them right now.
