Wallabies deserve a break after Wales

Here’s a word of warning for Wallabies fans as the national side takes on Wales in Cardiff for the final Test of their Spring Tour – don’t be too hard on your boys. They’ve been through a lot this year.

The critics have taken several chances to hammer the team for some sub-standard results the last few weeks. I had a go too after France.

What I’m about to say doesn’t excuse those results – I’m just aiming to give some pause and context to those taking the driver from the critics tee lately.

Here’s a reminder. For most of us, our idea of rugby touring is one step removed from a bucks party. Travel, drink, play rugby, drink, repeat. Obviously, this is about as far from a Wallaby tour as Campo is from Germaine Greer.

If rugby was school, then a Wallaby tour would be a Harvard MBA. If rugby was the air force, then a Wallaby tour would be Top Gun.

Former Wallaby Matt Burke was retro-criticised yesterday for his comment in a March SMH article, which was:

“I say this in the most humble way possible – until you have played at Super Rugby level you can’t comprehend what happens out on the field.”

But Burke’s entirely valid comment might as well have been applied to critics and Wallaby tours, to wit, that until you have toured with a professional representative team, one can’t comprehend the pressures, workload and tiredness that go with elite level touring.

For those who think it is two steps from a Contiki tour and who cite Drew Mitchell’s selfie in a boutique Paris barber as Exhibit A, the reality is that touring is tiring, often boring and very repetitive. Granted, there are pockets of delight and fun, but they are the exception rather than the rule.

Rugby touring is about slowly gaining deep satisfaction over several weeks at a job well done, as opposed to instant gratification and glitzy days of party lights.

Whilst us plebs delight in our annual trip to Fiji, travel for professional rugby players stopped being a novelty about 33 long-haul flights ago. The reality is that as a pro-player, they have done 4 or 5 overseas trips this year already, with flights varying from 4 to 20 hours. If they play for the Force, they can add several cross-continent flights of 5 hours each even for “home” games. Some player’s passports look like a chippy’s notebook and the iPod playlists are pretty stale.

Airports don’t stop for the pro rugby teams, and unlike the common perception, there are no strings of bagmen to carry players luggage. Players do the work – carting all of the myriad bags of tackling pads, playing kit, physio gear, medical supplies, massage tables as well as their own bags, usually a large coffin-on-wheels, plus a shoulder bag and a backpack each.

Delays are common and the Wallabies sit around the airport waiting just like everyone else. The only difference is that they do it in full number ones, not a comfy pair of jeans and a hoodie.

On tour, players have responsibilities to the team and jobs to do. There are no teams of servants running about peeling grapes. Most people are surprised to learn that the essential tasks which are not done by a manager, coach or physio, are done by the players.

Laundry is a good example. Costs are always a focus, so for professional teams, laundry is often organised in bulk lots. Sometimes non-team kit won’t be included. Players label their own gear, and a nominated player will go around and collect everyone’s laundry, taking responsibility for getting it done, and getting it back to the right people afterward.

Training gear will have a small team of players allocated to get it to and from the training ground. No bellboys or gophers here. During team meetings certain players will take responsibility for running sessions, or they may organise team social events. If this is a Contiki tour, then the tourists should get their money back, because they’re doing most of the work.

A typical day for a pro rugby team, might start at 8am. No trailing down to breakfast in last nights jeans and a t-shirt off the floor, but up and dressed in team kit. Most eat before 9 and will be told to dump their plateful in the bin if it doesn’t have the right food choices on it. Quality fuel and lots of it – players aren’t eating for pleasure here.

Players with physio appointments will have eaten and gone, and those not being treated will be stretching on rollers in the hallway before the bus leaves for training. Somewhere along the line they will have been quizzed about how they feel on a scale of 1-10…tired? Slept well? Rested? Sore? They will have pissed in a cup to check their hydration levels, something I bet didn’t happen at your last work offsite.

Annoyingly, the bus doesn’t care that they play pro rugby and often shows up late. So having rushed to get changed and get downstairs in time, they now wait.

A couple of hours training follows, regardless of weather. If it is wet, they still train, and then deal with their wet gear when they get back to the hotel. Again, no butler. Players sort their own gear out if they want some dry gear to wear the next day, otherwise…their problem. Oh, and fines accrue for not wearing correct gear.

Depending on the lunch venue, they might have another bus ride back to the hotel, which is the reality of pro rugby. Buses, buses and more buses. Minibuses, coaches, half-coaches and every other variety you could name. If Nathan Sharp had a hair for every rugby bus he’s been on, he’d look like Alan Garner.

Breakfast, lunch and dinner is the fat-man’s enemy – the buffet – and the ever present tension between eating lots of food, but still making healthy choices and not overburdening for the afternoon session.

Tired yet? Players on tour often say it is like being a new parent. They’re always tired, it’s only the degree that varies. But there’s no respite after lunch, there’s strapping to do, maybe a 30 minute rest and then back out to the training ground, or the gym, depending on how close it is to game day.

After the second training session (total 4+ hours for the day), it’s back to the hotel and maybe a recovery pool session or ice bath. If they’re lucky, maybe an hour of free time, but more likely a quick shower then a team meeting or video review before dinner.

Finally after dinner, some free time, but hey, chores to do. Who’s got laundry? Who hasn’t called home? Emails to check, clothes to sort out, gear to get ready for tomorrow, and if a player has an injury, then back to physio and massage, perhaps as late as 9 or 10pm.

This is four out of the seven days of the week. Can you imagine being on a three week work conference with this sort of schedule?

Another day out of the seven is the emotionally and physically exhausting game day which could start as early as 9am, and finish with the end of official duties at midnight.

Another day is a travel day which could mean a 6am start, 2 hours in the airport, 4-10 hours of flying plus transfers at the other end.

And if they’re lucky, players might get one day off around Tuesday or Wednesday. That’s if there are no injuries to attend to, or plays to learn, or extras to take care of, or interviews to do, or TV shows to appear on…then they might get a couple of hours to go to that fancy barber we heard about.

Of course, this frenetic activity and interminable bus travel is added to a season which started last summer in February. Amazingly, the pre-season for some started while the last Spring Tour was still away in November 2011. This is how all-consuming and fatiguing professional rugby can be.

And money? Well of course, players get paid well. And when you look at the above, they earn it.

It’s fair to say, that after up to 15 Super games, perhaps 10 or more Tests (5 of which could have been against the All Blacks and Springboks) and a year of hard training and travel, the players deserve a break.

They won’t get one from the Welsh, but whatever the result, perhaps it’s about time they got one from us.