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Anyone who thinks that rugby league has retrograded in to a diluted and sanitised nanny state should give themselves a triple uppercut and then watch the last half hour of this round’s Broncos versus Bulldogs clash.
According to the evidence presented at Suncorp Stadium, it seems that you can unleash a double-footer to an opponent’s face and then blatantly trip another and still remain on the paddock under the laws of the modern game.
It’s like the killing fields of the 1980s all over again.
On Friday night, Josh Reynolds made it clear to all and sundry that he wanted nothing more than either a Doggies win or first crack at the venue’s lavish shower facilities. In the end, as the game began to slip away, he decided to go all-out for an early knock-off, but was continually met with roadblocks from the officials.
After unlawfully lashing both Sam Thaiday and Ben Barba with his volatile wing-tips, the magistrates still believed he posed no immediate threat to the on-field community and was allowed to continue to freely roam the streets.
Sensing he was dealing with a toothless legal system, and salivating for the lion’s share of the hot water, Reynolds then performed the rugby league equivalent of mooning the police station after being granted bail, when he presented Alex Glenn with a stiff haymaking forearm to the kisser.
At a point where the result was already decided, the referees sensed an opportunity to make an inconsequential statement, so they decided they had finally seen enough. With this, the Bulldogs playmaker was finally given his wish.
To the delight of the baying locals, the delinquent was banished to the sheds for ten without parole. Here he was free to continue his can-canning on the picnic chairs in custody, finally locked away where he could be no threat to society. Until full time, of course.
Despite the referees giving Reynolds more X signals than an episode of Family Feud, and despite him eventually being sent from the field once his dangerously unstable fruitcake levels red-lined after thrice transgressing, the question has to be asked.
What the hell do you have to do to be banished from a game of rugby league these days?
Now I know the referees are under pressure. They do it tough, and us Joe Sixpacks who haven’t felt the cold metallic touch of a whistle between the lips will never know what it’s like to make highly contentious decisions with the aid of three other sets of eyes and a comprehensive surveillance system. So let’s give them some space.
It must be easy to just avoid the big decisions by falling back on to the cushy safety net of the reporting system – especially when it comes to your conventional indiscretions like high tackles, wrestling and squirrel gripping. In a sport where using the arms and torso is commonplace, there’s bound to be some grey spots when it comes to three-man bear-hugs and surreptitious nipple-crippling.
So sure, I’m reasonably comfortable with them opting to cover their backsides with a percentage approach in these situations.
Just penalise, put them on report, dish out a warning, tell Michael Ennis to “please p*ss off” and then let the review committee look after it at the end of the round. Too easy.
But a two-pronged kick to the gob with the cleated underside of a football boot? And trippin’, but not in the sense of a rapper sweatin’ over insignificant matters?
These are not incidental incidents that come with the cut and thrust of rugby league. This is out-of-the-box stuff, performed with flying size elevens. It’s tailor-made for an ejection to show the players who’s boss.
In addition to this, when such acts are performed on multiple occasions inside the same 80 minutes, isn’t that even more reason to pull out the special cane for some tougher-than-your-usual love? Darn tootin’ it is.
Wimping out with the usual lazy and safety-first approach of a six-second chat without eye contact and a penalty looks gutless when things get so wild. I’m sorry fellas, but there’s a bloke out there trying to be Eric Cantona, you might want to take control of the situation.
If there wasn’t enough there on Friday night for the bin and/or the early scrub to be called off the bench and in to action, then they are nothing more than quirks of the game that will soon be relics, much like Julian O’Neill-standard horseplay and Rams guernseys.
So in summary, kicking to the face is for Tae Kwon Do, tripping is for Allan Langer and Tone Loc, and expulsion in league still exists.
So why not man-up, kick it over and give it a go when things get toey?