Parkes life: 'Mate, the name’s Shag and I’m here to help save Australian rugby'

It’s been tough work wading through the aftermath of the Wallabies’ early World Cup exit, with understandable outpourings of anger and frustration to the fore from rugby writers, ex-players and anyone with a social media account.

The good news for readers is that I’m not about to add to that pile-on here. Well, I wasn’t until it was reported that Rugby Australia’s solution to its chronic problems, and their way of uniting fans behind them, was to offer Angus Crichton a contract to switch codes from the NRL.

Let’s leave Crichton, the player, aside for another day. But if any further evidence was required that this administration doesn’t know its arse from its elbow, surely this was it.

Chairman Hamish McLennan desperately trying to frame a narrative that Australia’s problems are due to 20 years of mismanagement needs the rugby public to buy the notion that his current administration has a firm, competent hand on the tiller. Buying more league players? Is that really the best we’ve got?

The only rational explanation was that this was all part of a plan to push Eddie Jones out of the news spotlight for a day or two. To extend a finger to the paparazzi hiding behind rubbish bins outside St Etienne’s sushi bars, waiting for Eddie to wander in for a snack, to provide them with the money shot conclusively proving he was off to Japan.

One contribution that jumped out as worthy of further examination was that of ex-All Black coach – and World Cup winner – Steve Hansen.

Having already visited Jones and the Wallabies early in this World Cup, Hansen said, following the 40-6 loss to Wales, “I’d consider helping a review of Australian rugby. I’d consider doing that, because it’s only going to make New Zealand rugby stronger if Australian rugby is stronger.

“I wouldn’t put on a tracksuit or join the team, but the game is bigger than all of us, and we need Southern Hemisphere rugby to be strong. At the moment it probably isn’t as strong as it should be.”

No “probably” required there, although Hansen’s proposed solution is unlikely to have impressed rugby fans in Canberra and Melbourne.

“I understand you’ve gotta develop the game and create content for TV”, said Hansen, “but I think you maybe amalgamate the Brumbies and the Rebels, which would be tough on the Brumbies, because they’ve been very successful.

“But for the betterment of Australian rugby, you need to make it harder to get a contract. You need to work harder to get it and not spread the resources so thin.”

(Photo by David Rogers/Getty Images for Barbarians)

What immediately stands out is just how earnest and honest Hansen is in his sentiment. And just how tone-deaf he is to believe that he might be taken seriously.

There are two reasons for that. The idea that Australia’s most professionally operated and consistently well performed franchise should be shut down or merged with another franchise six hours drive away, defies logic.

Or, if Hansen is really, in a roundabout way, saying that the Melbourne Rebels should be cut, then why doesn’t he just come out and say it? Hansen is a gambling man; I’m prepared to wager that a day spent on the ground in Melbourne, being shown what is happening with grass roots and public school development, and the growing pathway alignment into the Rebels’ program, would soon have him changing his tune.

The other factor is that, coaching mate of Eddie or not, Hansen seems oblivious to the fact that, under the current Rugby Australia administration, nationality matters.

McLennan, bolstered among others by staunch nationalist Phil Kearns, has made no secret of his desire to re-connect Australian rugby with its, well… ‘Australianness’.

That’s where the Akubras and RM Williams came from, and that’s where Dave Rennie, and his team culture built in part around connectedness through Pasifika culture, went.

With a number of pesky, non-dinkum non-Aussies purged from administrative and coaching ranks in recent times, the chances of Shag rocking up to Moore Park HQ to be welcomed with open arms, is fanciful. Unless of course, he happens to bring a couple of highly paid NRL players along with him.

One other thing about Shag’s offer to help which appears to have been overlooked, is his role, in 2021, at the forefront of ‘Global 12s’, a revolutionary new rugby format, based on cricket’s Indian Premier League.

With rugby’s schedule already impossibly crowded, World Rugby shut the proposal down. But have no doubt, in one form or another, particularly if the Saudis can be encouraged to develop an interest in rugby’s global potential, it will be back.

Far be it for me to deny Hansen his opportunity to make a living. But here’s the rub. The minute somebody says they’re peddling Global 12s because it’s the best thing for rugby, not because of the money, then you know it’s absolutely all about the money.

Of primary concern right now for Australian rugby is the credibility of its leadership. The last thing it needs is advice from others with tainted credibility.

Midweek, I found myself in the medieval, walled city of Avignon, placing my trust in the credibility of a waitress who delivered – off menu – a delightful plate of squid ink pasta, swathed in a rich, onion and courgette-based sauce, generously topped with crustacea which looked suspiciously like what we know as Balmain Bugs.

Delicious, and a new clubhouse leader in the ‘best meal on tour’ category, edging out Harry’s Cape Malay chicken and the late-night kebab I had in Paris during week one.

Avignon is renowned for its Palais des Papes where, among other things, you can view the tombs of seven Popes from the 1300’s. A heathen without an axe to grind against the Catholic church, I found this quite a poignant experience.

I’d expect that even those who might view the church less kindly wouldn’t deny that, all those years ago, these blokes really knew how to build an impressive palace.

A shout out too, to the well-intentioned mademoiselle manning the ticket counter who, without any prompting, issued me with a discounted, ‘seniors’ ticket. I’m still grappling with deciding if I was happier to take the 4 Euro discount and run with it, or be more upset at being automatically assumed to be ‘of age’.

The next morning, a late train cancellation kick-started a cascade of related delays, a costly taxi dash, and wind sprints between station platforms that turned what had loomed as a relaxing travel day into a sweaty, stressful experience.

Perhaps that’s a reflection of how things swing in France’s more languid south? Where train schedules, at best, appear to be nothing more than a rough guide. A display board to linger under whilst lighting up a cigarette.

Then it dawned on me. Had I missed the news that Qantas had just taken ownership of France’s rail network?

The email that came through later in the afternoon, inviting me to fill out a form and apply for 6.37 Euro compensation was a nice touch, if it understated, by many multiples, what the day’s experience had cost. If only for a reprise of the inefficiency of Switzerland’s ‘one minute late’ train system.

Arriving in Toulouse meant I was treated to a ‘do or die’ Pool D match between Japan and Samoa. Ostensibly watching as a neutral, I discovered it was more fun to treat the match, imagining I was Eddie. “Can I build a side around Rikiya Matsuda at 10? Where can I find some more muscle at lock? Where are the long-term replacements for Shota Horie, at hooker?”

A by-product of Japan’s hugely successful 2019 hosting, Japanese fans had invaded Toulouse in their thousands. It was hard to know if something was being lost in the translation, but upon mentioning Eddie Jones to a few people on the train, all I got in return was laughter.

At least the laughter on the return trip was a result of their side’s 28-22 win over a gallant but under skilled Samoa. I’ll be in Nantes on the last weekend of pool play to watch Japan take on Argentina for a spot in the quarterfinals.

(Photo by Chris Hyde/Getty Images)

Other weekly highlights included returning in a train carriage from Stade de France last weekend enduring a tuneless mass rendition of ‘Song For Ireland’, only made bearable by knowing that Harry, in his Bok shirt, was suffering much more than I.

The news that Antoine Dupont’s World Cup may not be over after all, also triggered some interesting talking points. Is there a betting market around what minute Dupont will hurl his mask to the ground, part Gaston Leroux’s Phantom of the Opera, part Elephant Man, part Ardie Savea, revealing to the world his horrible disfigurement?

And does Dupont’s return to play, if indeed that happens, mean clemency for Namibia’s Johan Deysel, who appeared to cop a six-week reduced to five suspension – more than double the going rate – purely because it was the world’s best player he happened to take out of the tournament?

Now there’s something for Shag to get his talons into. The rough end of the stick handed to Tier 2 nations.

Or is Hansen’s offer to help Australia confirmation that the transition down a level has happened already?