The Roar
The Roar

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RATHBONE: Head injuries are rugby's greatest threat

A medical doctor attends to Lachlan Turner. (AAP Image/Sergio Dionisio)
Expert
1st July, 2013
105
2672 Reads

There are some questions that professional sportspeople get asked often during the course of their careers.

Many of these questions are mind-numbingly stupid. We might get asked “which of your possessions most accurately defines you” or “Beyonce or Lady Gaga?”

Another familiar line of questioning runs as follows: “Will you encourage your children to follow in your footsteps?” “What advice do you have for youngsters wanting to play professionally?” and “What do you say to parents who don’t want their kids to play rugby?”

My answers to these questions have evolved in step with the increased instances of head injuries in rugby.

The human brain is a truly remarkable organ. Every possible human experience is a product of something your brain is doing. As Professor of Psychology at Harvard University Daniel Gilbert puts it: “the nature of reality is how your brain constructs it. And the slightest change in how your brain works can make a great change in the reality around you.”

We are our brains, and therefore any endeavour that places our brain at risk is best avoided. When one considers the chance of repeated brain injury inherent in rugby the sport must surely rank highly on the list of idiotic pastimes.

Rugby players are modern day gladiators, and like gladiators we’re in the entertainment industry, pandering to the crowd’s primal fascination with human struggle and triumph.

Blood, sweat and tears are the fruits of a great contest, It is visceral passion and meaning that transform a dismal example of ‘kickball’ into an utterly absorbing game of rugby.

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The problem with passion and meaning in the context of rugby is that they equal injury – sometimes very serious injury.

The British and Irish Lions Test series has produced a raft of nasty concussions and one serious neck injury. The game is clearly physical enough without foul play.

Which brings me to James Horwill and what I’ve learnt from his citing debacle:

I usually have little use for the word clusterf–k, and yet I am entirely unable to find a substitute that accurately conveys the state of foul play citings in rugby union.

While I don’t have any reason to think Horwill’s stomp was, intentional it was certainly dangerous, and he will do very well to avoid a ban of some sort. Horwill being a good captain and a quality bloke, and the rarity and prestige of this Lions tour deserve no place in this discourse.

Should children get involved in a sport that might someday result in them catching a boot full of studs in the face, all because a 120kg giant couldn’t balance himself? Not really. And if my as yet unborn kids ask me if they can play rugby the conversation will go something like this:

Bonesaw: “Dad, I want to play rugby.”

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Me: “You can play rugby after you complete a thousand-word essay on the risk of brain injury in rugby union. If after that you still want to play you must interview 10 individuals suffering from brain injury to gain first hand knowledge of their conditions.”

If after all that the lad is still keen on rugby I will slap little Bonesaw across the head with my signed Lady Gaga CD and send him off to training.

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