The Roar
The Roar

Advertisement

Pacific Nations and the myth of Sisyphus

Roar Guru
2nd July, 2015
Advertisement
Waratahs vs Samoa A. Photo via waratahsrugby.com.au
Roar Guru
2nd July, 2015
111
1464 Reads

In his philosophical essay, Albert Camus painted a grim picture of man’s futile search for meaning in an opaque universe devoid of God and eternal truths or values.

Once we realise that tomorrow only brings us closer to death instead of any meaningful explanation, we realise the absurdity of our existence. Camus – in his mind at least – strips this down to the only burning question of philosophy that matters: does the realisation of the meaninglessness and absurdity of life necessarily require suicide?

Camus argued that taking the absurd seriously meant acknowledging the contradiction between the desire of human reason and the unreasonable world. Suicide, therefore, was not an option worth considering, as without man, the absurd cannot exist. The contradiction must be lived; reason and its limits must be acknowledged, without false hope.

However, the absurd can never be accepted: it requires constant confrontation, constant revolt.

He uses the myth Sisyphus to illustrate this point. Sisyphus, who had defied the gods and put Death in chains, was captured and punished for eternity. His fate was to push a boulder to the top of a mountain and, upon reaching the summit, watch it roll back to the bottom leaving him to start the process all over again.

Camus was most interested in the thoughts of Sisyphus when he made his descent. For Camus claims that was the moment when Sisyphus acknowledged the futility of his task and the certainty of his fate, and was freed to realise the absurdity of his situation and to reach a state of contented acceptance. By continuing in the futility of his actions, he became a master of his universe, albeit not in a He-man kind of way.

Camus was not the sort of person you would want to invite to a dinner party for his effervescent personality and rosy outlook on life. He would’ve been ideal, however, when the hour turned late and you wanted the last stragglers to scurry off to their homes.

I can’t help but be reminded of Camus’ bleak view of the industrialised world and the situation of rugby in the Pacific Nations. Next week, on July 8, the top New Zealand side line up in a historic test against Manu Samoa in Apia. They have never played in Tonga or Fiji.

Advertisement

Do you know how many times the All Blacks and Manu Samoa have played one another? This will be the sixth time that they have faced off. All five previous games – from July 1993 to September 2008 – have been in New Zealand. Admittedly, the now defunct Junior All Blacks used to play the Pacific Nations in the Pacific Nations Cup but it does seem incredible that a comparatively close neighbour has played so little against the top national side.

Teams like New Zealand complain in a World Cup year that they are deprived of revenue from no June or November internationals. Spare a thought, then, for Fiji, Tonga and Manu Samoa who receive touring teams as I have had nights of uninterrupted and lengthy sleep since my daughter was born. They’ve happened – I’m sure I didn’t dream them as that would imply deep sleep – but I couldn’t tell you exactly when.

When Pacific Nations tour up north, their share of revenue and even test status are not accorded as they are with the SANZAR teams. The Pacific Nations Cup is not comparable with more lucrative tournaments like the Rugby Championship or Six Nations. They are not formally or directly involved in any club tournament either.

Corruption allegations among rugby officials in Tonga, Fiji and Manu Samoa do not help their cause. Manu Samoa players raised quite a media storm when they threatened to boycott their last international against England in protest over the administration of the game in Samoa and the fact that they were still owed quite a lot of money.

It is little wonder, though, with much less pay and far fewer international games many players prefer to ply their rugby trade in the club scene. However, recent revelations have brought to light how club players – by no means all of them from Pacific nations – are now being pressured into retiring from the international game.

Dan Leo, a London Irish lock, claims that up to a third of Manu Samoa’s squad could be lost to clubs who have offered incentivised contracts to stop players from participating in this year’s World Cup. If they do choose to play in the World Cup, they risk losing up to 40 per cent of their salary.

When you look at the inhospitable rugby world in which the Pacific Nations live, it would be easy to forgive them for falling into despair. Overlooked in the new Super rugby expansion, no representation in the IRB or World Rugby, or losing players to other rugby nations, the myth of Sisyphus is a sad reality for the Pacific Nations.

Advertisement

It is unlikely that the situation will change. The more club rugby there is and the more money it generates, the more demanding the employers will become. You only have to look at international football to see that but at least the latter has clearly demarcated international windows where there are no club clashes.

Asking World Rugby to step in and address such clashes is like asking Phil Kearns to wax lyrical over Richie McCaw or extol the virtues of the opposition facing his beloved Waratahs. Ask away but just don’t expect a response.

Moreover, the Apia test seems to be a begrudging one-off on the part of the New Zealand Rugby Union. A crossing of the palms with silver only for the bags of sponsor’s gold to be loaded up out back and driven away in secret. Similarly, leading nations such as France, South Africa and Australia might well say New Zealand owe it to Samoa to tour there but you won’t see their own teams touring Apia any time soon.

And yet, with all the odds stacked against the Pacific teams and the shabby treatment they get from the rugby world and their own officials, they are still capable of delighting the world with their unique brand of rugby. Big hits, big smiles and a genuine love for the game they were born to play.

Despite the absurdity of their situation, I tend to agree with Camus and come to the same conclusion. ‘One must imagine [them] happy.’ The alternative, much like Camus himself, is too depressing to entertain.

close