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In last Saturday’s Sydney Morning Herald, Peter FitzSimons spoke about the ARU using a windfall from TV rights to finance a chase for the greatest player in rugby league, Greg Inglis.
Speaking of the money involved, FitzSimons spoke plainly “…that dosh should be put into the grass-roots of the game. Let a thousand flowers bloom in that muddy green grass heartland: Development officers. Coaches. Empowerment of volunteers, at last given funds to get things going.
“The Australian rugby community is jack of seeing millions squandered on the very pointy end of the pyramid, while the lower tiers are squeezed.
“As to the argument that the millions should all go to the players who generate the money in the first place, I note that the money comes not from the players, but from the wider rugby community who pay the subscription fees and it is only fair – and good marketing – that the money go towards ensuring that those grass-roots continue to grow.”
It was such a gratifying sentiment and so in keeping with my own thoughts, that I tweeted a photo of FitzSimon’s column with the line “Thanks @peter_fitz for maintaining the rage – it is the most important issue in Australian rugby”.
Now I wouldn’t say that this went viral. But my average retweet rate is close to nil, and my record is maybe three or four retweets. This tweet was retweeted 12 times and stats show that it reached about 40,000 Twitter accounts.
Again on Saturday, Wallaby great Matt Burke made exactly the same point in a story about Karmichael Hunt:
“Forget the iron pyrites of chasing the rugby league player with the inflated price tag and concentrate on development of the game. Nurture the kids in the grassroots areas and make sure those kids have heroes again at the national level.
“Just imagine what that pot of gold could do to grow infrastructure across the junior rugby community. More development officers for school visits to spread the work. Getting the players back out into the world where they become even more accessible.
“It’s all about getting the next generation on board. You have to hook the kids to make this game stand out again.”
Recently I posted an article on The Roar which noted the frustration that the grassroots clubs were venting upon the ARU over the participation levy. It quoted the Arbib report, “Rugby is more about ensuring the next crop of fans and supporters than it is about identifying future Wallabies. Without this loyal and committed base of support the professional teams are ultimately playing to empty stadiums.”
There was more reaction to this piece than any piece I have ever had published on the site. I had never previously had anything other than comments – this time I had several emails from as far afield as France, and four phone calls from people at various levels and places in the rugby hierarchy.
This is nothing to do with my limited profile as a writer, and everything to do with the level of interest in the grassroots issue. It’s so topical that Matthew Burke, one of the first generation of full-time pros, someone generally more focused on the pro game, is writing about it.
What we’re seeing is the end battle in the war of professionalism – the battle between the philosophies of ‘rugby as a pastime’ and ‘rugby as a business’ – the values mismatch that still divides the code.
As much as it would seem on the surface that the war was finally over in 1995, when open professionalism swept the rugby world, the reality is that the grassroots resistance was simply driven underground.
After all, the IRB and the national unions were dragged into the professional era only once it became clear that, if they continued their defiance, they would be left with nothing to administer. This was no carefully planned and considered strategy, but a last ditch plea-bargain.
The amateur game was given no say in the matter and so the friction between the amateur grassroots and the professional administration continues. This is not new conflict – it is rugby’s intrinsic DNA bubbling to the surface.
It is simply explained by the fact that practically no-one ever starts playing rugby for the money. Rugby has always been a leisure pursuit. 95 per cent will never make any money from rugby, and importantly, never expect to.
Contrast this with our professional cousin, rugby league, where the aim is to cement a paid career, right from the beginning. As league star Jarryd Hayne said recently, “My whole dream was to be a professional athlete and to buy my mum a house.” It’s a given that the game is played for money.
This is not a judgement. Neither is better than the other. The advent of rugby league was a practical and welcome solution to the intractable problem of broken time payments. It’s also a terrific spectacle.
But where league really has it over union is its top to bottom consistency about the role of money in the culture of the game. League was born out of a need for financial reward and everyone understands that it is an essential part of the machinery of the code. No-one ever goes to league expecting it to be anything other than professional, even at the grassroots. In rugby league it’s simple – you get paid to play.
This is what a strategist might call ‘alignment’ – the top and the bottom of the pyramid share the same outlook on the essential fabric of the game.
Australian rugby, on the other hand, continues a Jekyll and Hyde existence, driving towards ever more commercial state and national administrations, steeped in the values of professionalism, and all the while dragging behind them the amateur game, like a mother with a grizzly child in a supermarket. It’s like asking BHP to run the Salvation Army as a business unit.
The ARU and the franchises rightly pursue commercial success. This is their business – brand growth and profit through on-field success of elite professional teams – and they can’t be blamed for profit-based thinking.
But the amateur game is a simple beast. It’s all about participation and engagement. They just want to play.
So what’s the solution? It’s as obvious as it is confronting.
Cut the amateur game loose. Give it its head. Just like a child growing up and heading off to university, it’s time for the grassroots to do a little self-determination. There’s no reason why the professional bodies should be charged any longer with developing the amateur game. In any case, they’ve evolved too far from their origins to remain in touch and it’s unrealistic to ask them to administer effectively at both extremes of the spectrum.
That said, the relationship between the professionals and the amateurs is clearly symbiotic. Amateur participation drives ticket sales to the professional game, and professional success attracts new players to try out rugby with the amateurs. The best of the amateurs will enter the professional ranks supplying playing talent, and the professionals will obviously contribute money to the growth of the amateur game.
Like the clownfish and the anemone, neither can survive without the other. But they are two entirely different organisms. The clownfish can’t sting and the anemone can’t swim. Neither can do the other’s job.
A properly resourced national amateur body could drive a comprehensive national strategy for grassroots development and participation. There would be no internal conflict over the imperatives to support a professional game.
They would be free to secure their own sponsorship deals – what price a logo on 650,000 pairs of shorts for winter – and manage their own budgets. Importantly, they would be free to take some responsibility for their own affairs, rather than falling back on the old pastime of blaming the professional administration for all the ills of the amateur game.
For their part, the professionals would be mercifully free of the millstone of amateurism. There would be no more debate about whether money used to buy the Inglises of the world should be used to run development camps. They would simply remit the amateurs an annual grant for development and go back to being the best possible professional outfit they could be, spending as much money as they wanted on whatever they wanted within the professional sphere.
FitzSimons and Burke have it right – it’s time to focus on the development of rugby at the grassroots. An independent but aligned amateur body will ensure that the structure can support the sentiment.