Going through the motions
Some older readers may remember my former life wherefrom I reported for the Rust upon matters pertaining to Harlequins FC, the Premiership rugby union club from a personal viewpoint as an unabashed and devoted – not to say one-eyed – fan and supporter.
About three seasons ago all that ceased.
Before that I had made a gradual descent from being a committed fanatic to a put-upon, deeply frustrated and disillusioned outlier, caused by the club’s lack of committed direction and the preponderance of well-meaning but second-rate, Johnny-come-lately, time-serving, sometimes near-incompetent lackeys that had burrowed their way into its hierarchy.
In short, I eventually ‘lost faith’ sufficiently that I failed to renew my season tickets and then severed all connections with the club that I had actively followed for a quarter of a century and treasured as my ‘second-favourite team’ for another thirty years before that.
For me, as a game to play rugby was always the ultimate – a flesh and blood physical contact sport that generated fabulous team-bonding and a ‘band of brother’ culture that was enduringly life-enhancing. No other came close.
And as a team to support Quins were right up there – an outfit with a glorious history that played lively, attacking, entertaining rugby, often against the odds, that left its opponents feeling resentful and envious in equal measure.
The decade between 2004 and 2014 was an Indian summer of splendid highs and lows, beginning with the coming together of a group of home-grown players sprinkled with a series of high class signings that overcame relegation and then a first season bounce-back under Dean Richards; the catastrophe that was Bloodgate; the extremes of Premiership inconsistency and ‘on the day’ brilliance that brought cup successes; and eventually – thrillingly – under the stewardship of Conor O’Shea – the ascent to Mount Olympus with the taking of the 2011/2012 Premiership title.
Those were the halcyon days for Quins during rugby’s professional era – they had everything from away trips to far-off places in the Championship and European cup competitions and a wonderful sense of shared camaraderie between the players and supporters – but sadly it has been mostly the downward slope since then.
I don’t blame anyone in particular.
In professional sport money talks and those with the deepest pockets call the tune when it comes to attracting the best players.
Quins have never been in that league.
Currently I’m afraid that rugby union is losing its appeal for me.
During my key “Quins years” there was only ever one team. I’d watch their every game, home and away, either in person on the television, but rarely any other.
Now I don’t even bother to watch Quins at all, except by happy accident.
Part of the reason is that most Premiership games are pretty boring because uniformly every team has a squad of top class players, well-honed in their fitness and playing strategies, but for the most part (generally speaking) their respective attacks and defences cancel each other out.
Kick, retrieve, bish-bash-bosh, endless recycling phases, the collapse of a scrum, a penalty or two for ‘coming in at the side’ at the breakdown – all full of effort, of course, and terribly efficient – but (in the final analysis) just too predictable and samey.
Yes, I’m going to say what a lot of rugby fans are now thinking as they sip their pints in the pub – these days far too often the game has become over-structured and boring.
Yesterday by chance, my weekend chores done, I had a rare afternoon on the sofa with control of the television zapper.
Having looked at the television schedules on this opening weekend of European games this season I noticed that Quins were playing Clermont Auvergne away in Pool 3 of the group phase the Rugby Champions Cup at 5.30pm on BT Sport 2.
Pool 3 is a medium-tough pool with Ulster and Bath making up the competitors.
Fortified as I was by a large cup of steaming-hot tea and two toasted and buttered crumpets topped with lashings of the new “Marmite-plus-peanut butter” spread concoction that was launched and widely advertised about six to nine months ago but which hitherto I had yet failed to spy on sale [step forward for a bow my local Tesco Metro store!] – I duly made the fateful decision to see how the 2019/2020 version of Quins would fare.
I wish I hadn’t bothered.
Two hours later the Quins matchday squad was back in their changing room under the stand having been on the receiving end of an ignominious 53-21 (seven try) drubbing.
Clermont were 22-0 up within 25 minutes, looking and playing like men against boys.
I knew barely half the Quins team by name and – while their effort and commitment was undeniable – they were second best in every area of the contest from the moment that Clermont established forward dominance at the very first scrum.
By the end I was feeling distinctly sorry for Quins veterans Chris Robshaw, Danny Care and Mike Brown – formerly stand-out stalwarts during The Glory Years but now edging into their middle-thirties.
It must be so frustrating – almost to the point of “Why am I still bothering?” – for these three to still be plying their trade in a side that is performing poorly in the league so far this season and then loses by 30 points in its first European cup outing of the year.
