- Video
-
Club Roar
Captured a great grassroots sporting moment? We want to see it!Content Collections
The Roar Community
- Join
- Login
New Zealand referee Steve Walsh. AP Photo/Mark Baker
Maybe tonight’s dinner is being held at the parents of AFL – we can hear him stomping around upstairs. Though hugely successful, the boy flatly refuses to leave home.
There’s Cricket’s Mum and Dad – the quiet, stressed couple who sit nervously at the end of the table, the mother clutching her husband’s hand as if her son is perpetually on 99 not out.
The statuesque single-mother of Netball arrives next, pulling up in a silver Audi and handing over an expensive bottle of red wine. To avoid an incident, she sits well away from League’s dad, who is already on his fifth beer.
Football’s father arrives late on the scene, and immediately starts talking about relatives overseas.
Like dinner parties everywhere, the conversation eases into the topic of our beloved children – their progress and their problems.
There’s the obvious difficulty with young AFL (“I can hear you!” comes the muffled cry from the next room).
He’s very popular and intelligent, but so unsure of himself, says his father. Apart from a stint in Ireland, where he kept getting into fights, he refuses to leave the comforts of home.
We enquire about Netball. Her stunning mother tells us she’s a chip off the old block. Plenty of friends, beautiful, well organised – a bright future. Everyone at the table has a nervous feeling that by the time young Netball matures, every one of us will be working for her.
Politely, the conversation turns to Cricket. His parents are mumblers, and it’s difficult to know how he is doing.
Cricket is very quiet, disappearing for months at a time, only to turn up every so often and win a Nobel Prize, or something. His constant success makes the conversation almost boring.
The father of Football is next to report. He is doing fairly well, all things considered. There was a rough patch a while back, but he seems to be coming through it. Nobody says anything, but we are all thinking the same thing – the name will be enough to ensure young Football is successful.
The Football family is an old, prestigious one – the kid simply won’t be allowed to fail.
A loud burp from the other side of the table makes Cricket’s mother jump in her seat.
Sighing, we all turn towards Mr League. “Oh, League’s bloody great!” declares Dad. “Heaps of mates. About to come into some TV money, too!”
“Didn’t he get arrested recently?” asks Netball’s mother, icily.
“Nah, nah, that was a media beat-up. Bloody Twitter, or some crap.” he yells. “Besides,” he says, pointing at me. “Old Union here is probably a flamin’ lawyer, aye?”
The table falls silent. I shift uncomfortably and poke at my tofu salad.
Netball’s mother breaks the tension, God bless her. “And how is Rugby?” she asks.
I explain to them that Rugby is not sure what he really wants to do with his life. He’s on his fourth Uni degree – Art History, or Philosophy or something. His friends are getting sick of the constant changes and none of them seem to be working for him.
“The kid needs to toughen up!” snorts League’s dad. Mr Cricket mumbles something about a World Cup, causing Football’s father to chortle.
“It’s not all his fault”, I plead. “He’s fallen in with a bad crowd. It’s those referees.”
Those damned referees.
I find it difficult to imagine that Super Rugby rugby union referees are not mandated in what they look for during games. Even at local levels, referees are told to focus on particular rules during a season, and pass these instructions to players throughout the year.
They are a professional organisation and internally review the performances of their officials. If referees do operate on a mandate, then they are getting it seriously wrong.
Rugby is being suffocated by pedantic whistle-blowing that sometimes beggars belief. In the early days of this new Super Rugby season, we have seen players regain their feet without a hand on them only to be declared “tackled”, scrum re-feeds when the ball is out, and a game-losing penalty awarded for little more than a shove.
An infringement penalised in one ruck will be ignored at the next. In the match between the Brumbies and Crusaders this weekend, Sonny Bill Williams was called for obstruction when no actual player was interfered with.
The defenders met the ball carrier with little drama, but the referee deemed Sonny Bill’s considerable shoulders were too close to the action, and awarded the Brumbies a penalty.
Referees should take no pride in highlighting rugby union’s fine-print. They should blow the whistle with reluctance, not with glee.
They should let my son spread his wings, and go back to the continuous, flowing game he was meant to be. Because his therapy bills are bleeding me dry.
In any case, Football’s dad and I slide League’s unconscious father into a taxi and pin his address to his shirt.
As I turn to leave, I glance up at the house and see the curtains move upstairs. Young AFL is staring at me through the window, his eyes darting left and right as he wills me off his front lawn.
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.