The Roar
The Roar

Advertisement

Passionate, visceral, irrational tribalism is vital for any competition to succeed. Is a lack of it damaging Super Rugby?

Autoplay in... 6 (Cancel)
Up Next No more videos! Playlist is empty -
Replay
Cancel
Next
Expert
19th March, 2024
194
4409 Reads

It’s a strange feeling to find myself in full-throated support for a team called “Queensland”. As a boy born a bare year before Artie Beetson belted Mick Cronin, I have been raised to loathe teams representing that state.

Support QueenslandERS, sure – when they play for Australia or when they come join your team. But support Queensland? No. I can not. I will not.

But I can and I will, and I am. The Queensland Reds are flying, Les Kiss – one of those guys who I hated in a maroon jumper – is doing a brilliant job at the helm, and I’m loving it.

Now why should this be? What’s going on here?

Of course, I don’t hate every team in every sport that comes from Queensland. Although the Swans are my AFL team, I will usually cheer on the Brisbane Lions ahead of most Melbourne sides. And in the NRL, I definitely have a soft spot for the Dolphins and the Titans, who feel like underdogs no matter who they’re playing.

And it’s not just the Reds who I’ll cheer for in Super Rugby either. I am nominally a Waratahs supporter, but I will go mad for the Force, the Brumbies, and particularly the Rebels (rugby’s Titans) when they are going well.

Queensland Reds head coach Les Kiss. (Photo by Albert Perez/Getty Images)

Advertisement

Funnily enough, all the Super Rugby teams I support are Australian, and all the Super Rugby teams whose fortunes I find myself hoping are constantly on the downturn are from New Zealand.

Ahhh.

THAT’S what’s going on. It’s not a strange feeling to be supporting Queensland. It’s a strange feeling to think consciously about WHY I’m supporting Queensland. And although it would be nuts to sheet home the problems of Super Rugby to any one factor, I can’t help thinking that the reason I support Queensland might just be one.

Put simply, sporting competitions thrive on tribalism. It is true that they’ll be more popular if they have a high quality of play, but passionate, visceral, irrational tribalism is a vital ingredient in the mix. The NRL and AFL can both rightly claim they are the best available competitions in the world for their particular sports, but the beating heart of both – the thing that makes people CARE about them – is the fact that fans are madly in love with their club of choice (or rather, lack of choice: hardly anyone actually chooses their team, we have them thrust upon us) and, perhaps even more importantly, hate other clubs with the fiery intensity of a thousand suns.

Now, Super Rugby does not have that. If it did, as a Waratahs fan, I would not only be riding an emotional rollercoaster every weekend and have developed a worldview of sour fatalism (admittedly I certainly have done that), but I would be feeling hatred for other teams, and probably reserving the greatest hatred for the Tahs’ great traditional rivals, the Reds.

Once upon a time, before Super Rugby, this would probably have been the case. Back when NSW played Queensland in clashes that, while not subject to State of Origin eligibility rules, were organised on similar lines, I’d have rejoiced in blue wins and cursed red ones, and been overjoyed to see the northerners humiliated whenever possible.

These days I still do want NSW to beat Queensland, but if they don’t, my feeling is far more, “Well at least an Australian team won” than anything else. The same as when any Australian team beats any other.

Advertisement

I am not saying this is necessarily a bad thing in and of itself, but it can’t be a good thing if we want a Super Rugby competition that stands alongside other elite championships in terms of public engagement. But maybe that’s not what we want.

Tate McDermott of the Reds is congratulated by team mates after scoring a try during the round one Super Rugby Pacific match between Queensland Reds and NSW Waratahs at Suncorp Stadium, on February 24, 2024, in Brisbane, Australia. (Photo by Bradley Kanaris/Getty Images)

One of Super Rugby’s issues, at least from an Australian perspective – I don’t presume to know what New Zealanders, who haven’t had more than two decades of national-level catastrophe to process, might think – is that we don’t really know what this competition is for. Is it an elite club league to determine the best team of the region each year, or is it just the place the Wallabies warm up in?

Right now it feels more like the latter than the former, because the greatest point of interest in every game involving an Australian team is how our local players are looking and what it might mean for the national side. Which is fine, but hardly conducive to ferocious provincial rivalry.

Watch every match of Super Rugby Pacific ad-free, live & on demand on the Home of Rugby, Stan Sport

Frankly, if Super Rugby were a really strong club competition, an Australian team losing to another Australian team would be as painful as if they lost to a Kiwi one (for the fans, that is – I’ve no doubt it’s every bit as painful for the players). In fact, if Super Rugby had the same level of tribalism as the NRL, many of us Aussies would cheer on New Zealand teams against our most hated domestic rivals, the same way loads of league fans would much rather see the Warriors win a premiership than Manly (or the Roosters, or the Dragons, or the Bulldogs, or…but I digress).

Look at the way, every time a non-Victorian team makes the AFL grand final, the Melbourne press goes into overdrive trying to generate some kind of state-based solidarity and bring Victoria together behind the local side against the interlopers.

Advertisement

And look at the way, every time, Melburnians flatly refuse to do so, because while they might not be in love with the idea of the Lions or Swans or Eagles winning the flag, they’ll be damned if they will EVER barrack for those bastard Pies/Hawks/Bombers/Tigers/Blues/Cats etc etc etc.

Imagine a Super Rugby final between the Reds and the Blues, where half the Australian fanbase is cheering itself hoarse for the Aucklanders. Never happen, because Super Rugby doesn’t work like that. But if it’s ever to be a bona fide tribal battlefield, where passions run high for your one true love, it should think about ways to get to that place.

I have no idea what those ways might be. And frankly, people might prefer Super Rugby the way it is: as simply the tier below Test rugby, where we gauge potential Wallabies’ form and take satisfaction from all Australian victories. Maybe we like supporting a five-club bloc rather than a single team.

But if so, we should give up any hope of Super Rugby ever arousing the feelings that its more successful cross-code brethren do. To do that, you need tribes, and right now rugby union just doesn’t have them.

Advertisement
close