KEY POINTS:
It's hard to find words to describe the ridiculous jerseys kerfuffle that has afflicted the Rugby World Cup in the past week or two.
Actually, that's not so. We need only one word: IRB. Indecisive Rugby Buffoons. All right, three words. As someone fond of rugby, you just hang your head when this stuff breaks out.
How, in the name of the great god Professionalism, was this allowed to happen? A friend called me this week and said: "That lot couldn't organise a bad smell in a baked bean factory." I think that's harsh. They could. They do just fine at bad smells.
This is the World Cup - the supposed highlight of the rugby calendar for four years in either direction; the tournament which is supposed to make up for all the meaningless test matches, rotation and deliberately weakened teams that we have had to endure for the past two years and which, unless the IRB pass 10,000 volts through themselves and get a move on, will affect rugby in the same way that the torpedo affected the Lusitania.
This is supposed to be rugby's Holy Grail - except that we now find that the knights are wearing the same armour and King Arthur can't sort it out.
No 1: The problem should never have happened in the first place. Rugby unions had to send the IRB their new strips over a year ago.
No 2: The NZRU warned the IRB about colour clashes but received no response.
No 3: At halftime in the dreadfully confusing All Blacks-Scotland game, the IRB asked the All Blacks to change back into their traditional black strip. They couldn't. They hadn't brought them along. Can you imagine this scenario happening in the football World Cup?
No 4: The IRB rules - if they can be so termed - stipulate that a coin be tossed to decide who gets to wear their number one strip. Hello? A coin toss. In the sport's highest moment? So help me, Martha, why? Surely someone with a functioning brain (and who doesn't suffer from colour blindness) can sit down and write some specific rules here - preferably before the tournament starts.
No 5: France won the toss but their new dark blue jerseys were still too close to the All Blacks' silver change strip, according to another great god - TV. So the IRB asked Les Bleus if they'd like to play in their white change strip and be Les Blancs. Non. The French dug their heels in. Not unreasonably. They abided by the rules. They won the toss.
No 6: Seemingly powerless to enforce a resoution (a phrase that occurs often when talking about the IRB), the matter drags on until 24 hours out with no idea who will be wearing which jersey.
Some of literary bent may remember the old novel The Scandal of Clochemerle, by Gabrielle Chevalier - the gently farcical story of a little French village which tears itself apart because the mayor builds a pissoir (which is exactly what it sounds like) in the village square, igniting community, religious and even military factions to a beautiful satirical impasse which lays bare the weaknesses of ego, bureaucracy and self-interest.
Those who don't remember it can regard the quote from a much more modern humorist, Rowan Atkinson, who once said of a target in a skit: "I wouldn't trust them to sit the right way round on the toilet."
This is indeed rugby's Clochemerle but it would be unfair for us to point the bone solely at the IRB. Stand up, Nike, manufacturers of the French jerseys. This year, Nike changed the traditional blue to a much darker blue - almost black, in fact.
Hmmm, now what is wrong with this picture? The French, favourites in the eyes of many to meet the All Blacks in the World Cup final there, New Zealand here.
Clothing manufacturers like Nike are happy to fiddle with national jerseys for one reason and one reason only - it builds sales. They'd rather swallow a cupful of what comes out of Clochemerle's pissoir than worry about tradition.
Who knows what wondrous marketing doublespeak and psychobabble was behind the changing of France's blue to almost black? And before adidas get too cocky, why did the All Blacks alter their traditional white change strip for the 2003 World Cup?
At least they haven't changed it again for this one - but the new fashion in sports apparel seems to be these horrendous panels and swishy, swooshy things which blur traditional national colours. In the All Blacks' change strip, you literally can't tell whether they are the All Blacks or the Scots. Great job, adidas.
It's all about commercialism; it's all about professionalism. It's also about the fact that, when a sport embraces professionalism, it has to have a body capable of staying ahead of marketing shenanigans, TV needs, rampant ego and self-interest.
Stand up, the IRB. Oh, never mind. Sit down again. Let's get on with the game shall we? Now, who are the ones in grey again?
