Steve Deane: Singing criticism really hits a low note

Our rugby players' aversion to song is a reflection of our society. Photo / Getty Images

It had to happen, the only surprising thing is that it took this long. Yes, criticism of the All Blacks has finally reached its nadir.

I refer, of course, to all this pointless claptrap about the national anthem.

So our players don't sing - so what? The Irish, Welsh, Italians, Scots - actually just about everyone - have always thrashed us at the national anthems. And where does it usually get them? Do their players sit around in the changing rooms afterwards rejoicing about their vocal efforts?

"Sorry about all those missed tackles on Nonu lads, but I did finally hit the right octave on the second verse."

As if.

Let's face it, our rugby players' aversion to song is nothing more than a reflection of our society. Most of us just aren't the clenched-fist-over-heart ostentatious badge-kissing type.

Most Kiwis rarely sing. As rugby supporters, collectively we don't sing in support of our team. Every now and then we might manage a "black, black, black", but unless the English are in town you won't hear the Cake Tin reverberating to the harmony of an adopted slave anthem.

We don't sing for them, so why should we expect our players to sing for us?

As for our national song, it's hard to think of a less-inspiring dirge. Graham Henry's handling of this non-issue has been entirely off key.

"It's just something that's crept in," Henry sheepishly admitted during a radio interview. "We are going to address it before the Tri-Nations and hopefully it'll be turned around."

Oh goody. Forget about fixing a forward pack that plays with all the steel of George Michael's Careless Whisper, or ensuring a backline of apparent strangers are at least on a first-name basis - let's get the singsong right.

But if Piri Weepu's stony face on Saturday night is anything to go by, don't hold your breath waiting for a major vocal overhaul. The cut of Weepu's jib suggested a man who didn't sing in class in primary school and isn't about to start now, whatever schoolmaster Henry says.

Brad Thorn was also a masterly study in indifference, while the rest of the side seemed to be either half-heartedly lip-synching or looking up at the big screen for the lyrics.

A bit like the match itself, only Isaac Ross went about the pre-match chore with any sort of gusto.

No doubt the pro-anthem lobby will point to the positive benefits of carrying a song in your heart. The sane among us will see it only as evidence that, as well as being an exciting rugby talent, Ross actually likes to sing a bit.

Good on him. Each to his own. If that means that 21 of our 22 players don't want to sing, so be it. Who do we really want - players who sing like angels or those who play like demons?