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Johnny Wilkinson kicked. He kicked me in the heart and kicked the Wallabies out of the 2003 World Cup.
Religiously I reversed the result down at the local park. Role-playing with George Gregan spinning the ball back to me, as Stephen Larkham, under enormous pressure from the opposition, I kept my cool and slotted a match-winning drop goal.
In my head, I was closely followed by the commentary of Greg Clark.
Larkham forged himself as my hero when he sent Australia into the World Cup final of 1999. The subsequent title convinced me to sign up at my local rugby club, the Drummoyne Dirty Reds.
By 2002, Australia’s last Bledisloe Cup win, I’d mastered all Larkham’s on-field mannerisms. My loyalty was built on his black headgear, long white skinny legs and a never say die attitude.
Bernard Foley’s clutch penalty to win the 2014 Super rugby final was quickly overshadowed on the international stage at the hands of a 51-20 loss to the All Blacks, in Auckland. The Australian Rugby Union (ARU) are left with a generation of players who’ve never seen the Wallabies lift a World Cup, let alone the Bledisloe Cup. They’re a sinking ship.
Despite reaching a surplus in 2013, the future looks bleak for the ARU. The financial buffer from the 2013 British and Irish Lions Tour will be of little importance with an upcoming starvation of any significant in-bound competitions in the next decade.
A recent article from ESPNscrum revealed that one of Australia’s most historic football codes could be “insolvent by 2015″. The article comes after a senior ARU official told colleagues of the fear that by April next year the ARU “could run out of cash”.
No money, and no silverware. It’s a situation the South Sydney Rabbitohs faced the late 1990s. It seemed unjust to dump 92 years of Sydney’s sporting history because of financial losses. When it comes to pain, bloodshed and near-death experiences, no club comes close to what the red and green working-class institution represents.
The images of South Sydney fans weeping in the streets when their club was kicked out of the competition in 1999 and then 80,000 marching to Town Hall to save the Rabbitohs a year later remain among the most powerful in Australian sport. These events illustrated the tribalism inherent in the working class NRL fans.
Rugby league is a gentleman’s game played by thugs, and rugby union is a thug’s game played by gentlemen. Putting the games aside, will the gentlemen jump in for their code like the working class thugs of rugby league?
The loyalty of rugby league is derived from environmental surroundings and a passion for your local tribe. You’re invested in the team from the moment you’re born. Nine teams within Sydney, on each other’s door step. Local rivalries ignited every week. The supporters are a little crazy, but it creates an electric atmosphere at the games.
The gentlemen of rugby union have Super Rugby. It spans three countries, with some games played in the middle of the night, making it difficult to form a tribal following. Fans are in different countries, rarely coming into contact with each other to voice their parochialism. Additionally, the ARU sold the television rights to paid viewing, making it difficult to grow Super Rugby outside of its upper class niche, and reach mainstream audiences.
Tradition and passion in rugby union is embedded in the history of private schools around Australia. You’re placed into an institution for six years, and over time develop a passion for the jersey. About 5000 people watch a Knox Grammar School and Barker School rugby game, then the following Saturday there’s 200 people at a Sydney University and Randwick Shute Shield game.
You’d have to think private schools are a pretty powerful product. Australia’s largest rugby talent pool has the Australian Football League (AFL) and the Football Federation of Australia (FFA) determined to overturn the throne.
Fees perpetually fuel the schools’ coffers, and old boys give generously for the jumper. They’ll build a grandstand, scoreboard, sponsorship, or put on a showcase dinner. The giants of schoolboy rugby must put the local school derbies aside and join together to save the game they grew up on.
It took a community of supporters who bled for the jumper to bring back the South Sydney Rabbitohs. Sitting on life support, the ARU needs a savior.
Join The Roar rugby editor Christy Doran, former Wallaby Matt Toomua and a cast of regular and special guests as they look at the biggest issues in the game on The Roar Rugby Podcast. If you’re looking for great odds on the next game check out Aussie bookmaker PlayUp. Chances are you’re about to lose. Set a deposit limit.