Peter Bills: A troubled year of broken expectations on the field

Everywhere you looked in 2009, rugby seemed to have problems.

The South Africans' reputation was stained by Schalk Burger's eye-gouging on Luke Fitzgerald during a physically brutal Lions tour; the All Blacks lost three times to the Springboks and in New Zealand calls for Graham Henry to be sacked were loud and long.

Across the Tasman, another Kiwi, Robbie Deans, coaching the Australians, suffered the ignominy of seeing his men lose five of their six Tri-Nations matches. Then they pitched up in Edinburgh and lost to Scotland.

In Europe, the French got hammered by England, 34-10 at Twickenham, but life was far from rosy for the English. The northern autumn brought defeats by Australia and New Zealand and a realisation for manager Martin Johnson that English rugby's love affair with him was fast ending.

The English punters' disbelief at the path professional rugby was taking in England was exacerbated by the notorious "Bloodgate" affair at the London Harlequins' club. The ghosts of those crusty old colonels and their batmen who once epitomised the club and its support must have been groaning in their graves as it became clear that, under director of rugby Dean Richards' direction, one of the Quins players, wing Tom Williams, had used a fake blood capsule to make a phoney substitution late in the Heineken Cup quarter-final against Leinster.

Williams was banned, Richards thrown out of the game for three years and the club fined $577,000. It is just a pity in the circumstances that those charged with running the Heineken Cup cheerfully ruined its honour and reputation by lacking the moral fibre to chuck Harlequins out of the tournament for a year or two. Pathetically, they cited difficulties in rearranging fixtures by the time the whole tawdry affair had unravelled.

But then there was Ireland; Brian O'Driscoll, already the subject of posters proclaiming "In BOD we trust", cemented his saintly status by first helping Leinster, under the guidance of shrewd Australian coach Michael Cheika, to win the Heineken Cup. He then led his country to their first Grand Slam in 61 years. What's more, both did it with some style and conviction.

True, the coaching craftsmen like Declan Kidney, Alan Gaffney, Gert Smal and Les Kiss charged with assembling a magnificent Irish rugby outfit had in O'Driscoll a diamond as their founding stone. But what was equally encouraging was the personnel who came together around the great man in 2009.

Equally encouraging for Ireland was the quality of the emerging youngsters, like Tomas O'Leary, Luke Fitzgerald, Keith Earls and Jonathan Sexton who enjoyed an audacious debut against Fiji in November and then repeated the performance against the World Champion South Africans a week later. Crucially, Ireland had men of sufficient power, stature and hunger in the pack to overcome some obvious weaknesses in the front row.

Elsewhere in Europe, things were much less impressive. Wales seemed to blow hot one minute then cold the next. They lamented the continuing absence of Gavin Henson and after spanking Scotland and England, narrowly lost in France and were never as effective. Even so, they pushed Ireland all the way in the Grand Slam decider, and would have won if Stephen Jones' final-minute penalty goal had just an ounce more strength.

England, like they always do, talked one hell of an impressive game. In truth, their challenge was shot after defeats in Cardiff and Dublin, the latter albeit only after the mother of all physical batterings aimed chiefly at Ireland's captain. Typically, a groggy O'Driscoll's response was to hurl himself at the bodies one more time for the crucial try. It was glorious to watch.

Italy faced Samoa in late November with fear stalking their camp. Under their South African coach Nick Mallett, they had lost every game in 2009. Samoa represented their last chance and, bellissimo, they won to avoid complete ignominy.

No 8 Sergio Parisse apart, Italy may not have any players worth writing home about, but by staging their game against New Zealand at the mighty San Siro stadium in Milan in November and selling it out with a 75,000 crowd, they proved there was plenty of interest in the game at home.

It is time, surely, to divide up their future Six Nations matches; one in the south in Rome, one in the north at Milan.

Scotland changed coaches - again - replacing the thoroughly decent Frank Hadden with the thoroughly decent Andy Robinson, who had been so disgracefully treated by England. He started with a wave of the conjuror's wand, and the Scots had somehow beaten Australia. Alas, reality returned with a defeat by Argentina one week later.

The next tier of rugby nations, the likes of Argentina, Fiji and Samoa, had clearly not progressed on the evidence of the end-of-year internationals. No matter the size of the IRB's largesse, progress in these countries is proving stubbornly difficult. It seems highly doubtful Argentina will make the same impact at the next World Cup as they managed at the last, although entry into an expanded Tri-Nations competition in 2012 could prove a long-term restorative.

In 2009, it became increasingly clear that the world's top rugby people had adopted Spike Milligan's philosophy. "All I ask," he once said, "is a chance to prove that money can't make me happy."

Players and coaches wrote books, and advertised watches, suits, sports gear and anything else to make a few quid. Some hit the jackpot. Others, such as Harlequins' Dean Richards, lost a fortune, not to mention his reputation. "They have taken my career away from me," he remarked upon hearing of his three-year ban.

But could anyone quibble at players trying to maximise their earning capacity in a professional sport as tough as this one has become? Many of the "hits" nowadays are so heavy they make you wince from your seat.

That may be to the misfortune of the combatants, but it adds to the magnificence of the spectacle. Frankly, now that it is a professional sport coveted by television, rugby has to embrace entertainment. Too much of it this year has been dire, dreary stuff, a seemingly endless succession of turf war scraps fought beneath a pile of human bodies in a place called the ruck. At times, drying paint would have offered a better attraction.

Undoubtedly, another look at the laws is required, but not until after the next World Cup. And despite the wimpish pleas of some countries, such as England who claim you can't play decent rugby under these laws, there have been enough examples this year that manifestly prove the opposite.

So despite the lows, some of which were indeed base, there were some wondrous highs. Over our Christmas/New Year tipple, let's make sure the mind dwells more on the latter, not the former.

Peter Bills is a rugby writer for Independent News & Media in London.