Fixing the Wallabies is a David vs Goliath task.... that gives me an idea

When Will Gilbert invented the rugby ball in 1821, he did not experiment with every part of the pig before settling on the bladder. Apart from an early failed prototype involving the pericardium and testes lashed together in tripe, Gilbert relied on his intellect, rather than trial and error, to arrive ultimately at success.

Michael Cheika, certified king of NSW rugby from February to October 2014, knows the trial and error approach well, particularly cutting his coaching teeth at the head of a large franchise, and club teams that play non-stop rugby for many months at a time.

However, just as an infinite number of monkeys on typewriters may eventually ink Hamlet’s soliloquies, they may equally write a book of competitive dog grooming haikus, or flat pack furniture instructions.

As Phil Kearns never says, the notion of increasing your volume of error to mathematically reduce your distance to truth is simply not practical in a finite universe.

Thus we find ourselves here, two games down in the Rugby Championship, yet barely closer to answering our most important questions: What is our best team? What is their best approach?

Well I’ve heard the drums and it appears the revolution is upon us.

I find it is most helpful in these situations to enter a Zen-like state of calm, lucid panic; And it’s from the lotus position that I offer you three very different solutions plucked straight from my Scientific Rugbytology arsenal.

1. Adopt a David and Goliath selection strategy
While some dismiss selection shuffles as merely “shifting the deckchairs on the Titanic”, true Australians see a good selection gambit akin to grabbing the deck chairs, lashing them all together with occy straps, building a raft and floating to glory.

However, with the constant battery of our forwards by the 23-wheel black road train of injustice, our selection battle is taking on the qualities of David versus Goliath. This is a characterisation that should be embraced.

Yet to truly embody our Davidness in this classic bible story/awesome middle years Simpsons episode, the Wallabies/Bart have to defeat Goliath/Nelson/New Zealand.

It stands to reason then that if the Wallabies adopt a policy of selecting only forwards named David, this could be our most logical and expedient route to the Bledisloe.

The pack could be:

1. David Dunworth
2. David Nucifora
3. David Fitter
4. David Giffin
5. David Lyons
6. David Croft
7. David Wilson
8. David Pocock

Perhaps I could have put Cody or even Campo in there, but even with this pack I can safely say that we’ve already got the Bledisloe in a modest blue light disco embrace.

Quade’s name is Quade, not David. Sack him immediately

2. Scorched Earth
This second idea is even simpler, at least for the players. Sack them all.

But don’t stop there.

ARU Board – you’re sacked too. ARU Executive – update those Linkedin profiles, you’re gone. Individual club executives – what have you been doing about making grass roots rugby profitable and sustainable? Where’s your small business nous? I don’t care if it’s voluntary, you’re gone too. Coaches and staff across all levels of rugby, you’re sacked. Operating the BBQ on a Saturday? Get back to Bunnings and ply your sub-standard snag turning down there. Physios, strappers, all gone.

Roar Expert? Gone too, sorry.

Time for fresh blood across the board in all things rugby.

This course of action requires a complete renewal to run through Australian rugby like a dose of radioactive salts coated in Satan’s own grundle sweat.

We start afresh, even if that means we’ve got to all drink the tainted Kool-Aid and each go for a long lie down as supporters and commentators.

When we eventually unfurl from our cocoons, we will emerge to a glorious new dawn beaming down upon us. And all will somehow be well.

3. The Triangular Prism scheme
If total institutional annihilation or just picking Davids seems a bit extreme, there’s a third, safer option.

We’ve all known for a long time that to get the finances of Australian rugby sorted out, we need to migrate to a new business model.

It is dogma among Australian rugby supporters that our top-down model of the Wallabies financing Australian rugby is at the heart of our malaise. Yet whenever the popular view is advanced on this site to implement a bottom-up model, except where the Wallabies continue to fund the rest of Australian rugby, 1000 logic fairies die.

Having both a simple appreciation of three-dimensional geometry and a PETA-like love for logic fairies, I am advocating a new business model altogether.

I call it an apex to base triangular indefinite exponential expansion scheme.

While this model sees playing and insurance fees for juniors initially increase to $6000, juniors will be reimbursed the full amount providing they can recruit six new players each. But it isn’t just the base doing the grunt work under this scheme, players are incentivised at the professional level too.

Say a player currently earns $200k per year – under my model, they can still earn this much, however he starts by paying the ARU $100k for the privilege to play. The ARU then gradually returns this money through a system of incentives and penalties, such as a $10 credit for each good catch or a $5 debit for a dropped pass.

A well drilled World Cup winning team should easily finish in the black, while a team such as the Reds 2003-09 incarnation would end up owing the Queensland Rugby Union several million dollars. Win/win.

Irrespective of the solution imposed on the ARU and Wallabies, whether David-only selections, scorched earth, or an inventive financial model, I think the main thing to do now for the remainder of the Rugby Championships is to panic. Not your traditional “wake up at 3am in a cold sweat panic”, but proper, manic, frothy-mouthed hysteria.

So take off a shoe, lick the back of a goldfish and stick it to your forehead, squirt some vinegar in one eye and start running around in circles wherever you are right now. Just let me know what you come up with.

For this is the manner in which most great ideas are born.