Diving, the new scourge of the NRL

What a round of rugby league we just witnessed! The game came together from both sides of the Tasman to devote a weekend of recognition to those people the Anzac weekend honours – NRL coaches.

Oh yes, only our great sport can have a weekend of ceremony where the servicemen and women of decades past through to the present were honoured; where crowds of tens of thousands stood silently and purposefully while the ‘Ode’, ‘Last Post’ and a minute’s silence were observed.

Where reverent marches of army bands and the Lone Charger strode the turf to overwhelming, encouraging applause; only for us all to be talking about the worst parts of our on-field game and the coaches who preside over it.

I love the Anzac traditions. I believe in the ‘Anzac spirit’, which is a key plank in the NSW history syllabus for schools.

Like a lot of people, I have family who served in wars from France to Korea. And I am proud of how the NRL has embraced it to showcase the entire weekend.

I’ve been fortunate enough to have been appointed to both the SFS and AAMI Park Anzac Day matches that are forging a history of their own. They are memories that can be retained by players, officials and fans alike.

Yet, by the end of the weekend there seemed to no reminiscing about what was great about football. We were talking about diving, we were talking about referees, we were talking about the bunker, and we were talking about the sin bin.

I guess that’s what I signed up for when I write a column about rugby league each week. For all the good stuff, it’s the average stuff that gets people talking.

Can we look at the diving situation? It is the only part of what Trent Robinson had to say on Monday that I agree with.

Players who are hit high lie down in the hope of gaining a penalty. The video officials – the guys in the bunker – look at it, and if they decide it is worthy of being placed on report they will recommend a penalty.

I say ‘recommend’ when I really mean ‘advise’. When the Bunker tells the on-field refs to do something they will always do it.

They will never, ever say to themselves: “You know what? I had a clear view and didn’t think it was that bad, and I saw it again on the big screen when they replayed it – I’m going to play on.”

No, it’s been that way since video refs had a role in foul play, but this year that peasant-to-lord relationship between the on-field guys and the bunker has been set in concrete.

Lying down to gain a penalty has been going on for years. If the on-field officials miss high contact on a ball carrier – and it can happen very quickly, believe me – the player will stay on the deck waiting for a whistle.

If none is forthcoming they (except Roosters players, if you believe Robinson) will wait for the referee to stop the game and the bunker to intervene.

I’m not telling you anything the rugby league public don’t already know. What I can tell you is that referees are permitted to get on with the game if they act quickly enough, by ordering the ball off the ball carrier and instructing a teammate to play it five metres in-field.

Yet this never happens. Hasn’t happened since the 1990s.

Because referees are too conservative in every other aspect of the game they don’t take a risk with this either. You will often hear the excuse ‘referees are not doctors’, meaning that they can’t be responsible for misdiagnosing any injury a player may or may not have received.

Blame the possible litigation, blame personal injury lawyers, blame whomever – even if a referee is sure a player is trying get one over him, he will never risk intervening and continuing the game. It’s just the way it is.

Which leaves us with what we saw last weekend. Very few players will get to their feet and play the ball if they feel there is a chance of a penalty after review.

Although there are times the bunker gets it right. Tariq Sims was hit square across the nose in the Newcastle game, which was worthy of an on-field penalty every day of the week. Yet it was reviewed by the bunker and considered not worthy of a match-review charge, so Sims had to play the ball.

That was some good refereeing by video screen.

There is no resolution to this. Until every coach of every club instructs his players to get to their feet no matter what, we are always going to have players taking a dive like they would not be out of place in the penalty area of a round-ball game.

What chance of that happening when the game is on the line?

***

How good was it to see the sin bin back in the NRL? I’ve been arguing for it for ages, as has Tim Gore and any number of people. As I said last year, it should be used more often so that it doesn’t look like an anomaly.

We saw the bin used for professional fouls where we had long breaks and defenders stifling a quick play-the-ball, and Corey Norman binned for denying a try-scoring opportunity.

So why did his coach, Brad Arthur, get a soap box to blame referee Gerard Sutton for his team being reduced to 12 men? Because the journos in the press conference handed him one.

Norman pulled Cowboys five-eighth Michael Morgan away from the ball while he was already over the line.

When someone should have asked, “So was that a brain snap from Norman or did he deliberately cheat?” We instead got: “Do you think it was maybe an overreaction?”

A clear opportunity that allowed Arthur to imply the officials had got it wrong. Arthur commented: “It’s disappointing that with 14 minutes to go that we couldn’t see two really good teams fight it out. I think everyone’s been robbed of a good game of football.”

Everyone was robbed? They probably were. Robbed by Corey Norman, who got exactly what he deserved.

The Eels go from being two points ahead to two tries behind by the time Norman got back on the field. Thanks Corey – next time Brad can point the finger at the real culprit.