A Saturday afternoon watching rugby
Over several years now this organ has covered the Northern Hemisphere version of the sport of rugby union in some depth, covering everything from specific matches and trends in the financial fortunes and playing tactics of elite professional clubs to its ongoing inherent dangers and medical issues.
As per usual I begin this post with the Rust’s standard admission that ordinarily we seek to avoid straight reporting of matches – we leave that task our fellow Fleet Street brethren – and instead concentrate upon personal reflections.
Yesterday my domestic doings fell in a manner that by late morning enabled me to go to a local area of natural beauty for a stroll beside coastal waters, undertake a little necessary food and newspaper shopping and then arrive home in time to make myself a light lunch in time advance of spending my afternoon watching rugby on television.
First up came the Harlequins versus Northampton Saints English Premiership clash at Twickenham Stadium (being broadcast live on Discovery +, courtesy its association with TNT Sports), kicking off at 3.05pm in front of a crowd just a little shy of 60,000.
As it happens – and it doesn’t always manage it – this season European rugby seems to have reached the business end of both the English Premiership league and the knockout stages of the Investec Cup in a state of heightened playing quality and public interest.
For my sins, from personal viewing I can vouch for the performances of Saracens as they seek to annexe the Premiership crown for the umpteenth time, but hitherto (regretfully) have followed the fortunes of league table-topping Northampton Saints only from afar via TV, radio and newspaper reports rather than actually seeing them in action.
More is the pity. On the evidence of yesterday, this term Saints have progressed from being a somewhat flaky mid-to-top-half outfit into one of the most dynamic in the Premiership. Their development is not unique – apart from the dismal Newcastle Falcons, most of the top tier English teams, in common with those in other Northern Hemisphere countries, have systematically adopted an increasingly adventurous and open style of play.
Yesterday’s match at “HQ” was a continuous feast of attacking entertainment whose outcome was uncertain until the final whistle.
Both teams are also in the Investec Cup semi-finals to be played next weekend – and both were either “protecting and/or resting” some of their senior playing assets by not fielding them as starters (or at all) in this game which ended in a 41-32 victory for the hosts.
Everyone involved, from commentators and pundits to those watching at the ground or on TV, had been anticipating the usual roller-coaster ride that we have come to expect from the Harlequins and that is exactly what they received.
However, this was not a typical “Roundheads versus Cavaliers” example of the genre, with Saints cast as the former and Quins as rugby’s equivalent of the Harlem Globetrotters. It was a far more a “battle of equivalents” as from the outset the visitors also pressed the “all-action” button and frequently out-Quinned Quins at their own game.
It was a joy to watch and I wish both teams every success in their fixtures next weekend – how mouth-watering it would be to see them play each other again in the final of either the Premiership or the Investec Cup!
The second match I watched in full yesterday – assisted by the marvels of modern technology in that, although the two matches slightly overlapped in their timing, after the Twickenham one was over I was able to switch to the BBC and command my television to play the second one “from the start” (i.e. as if it was live) rather than (if you see what I mean) actually “live”, which would have mean me missing the first 15 to 20 minutes – was that of France versus England’s Red Roses in Bordeaux as the climax of the Women’s 2024 Six Nations tournament.
I have followed the development of elite women’s rugby with some interest since the beginning of the 21st Century, partly courtesy of the fact that, besides its elite professional team, the Harlequins also ran men and women’s amateur rugby XVs and the former occasionally played on the pitch at the Stoop either after or before the men’s professional team did.
Over the last 25 years, women’s rugby has moved on from being something of a Cinderella affair – with players “lobbing” the ball to each other rather than “passing it” (as a male onlooker would understand the term), the physical contacts being tentative, the levels of fitness poor and indeed just generally – to adapt slightly Samuel Johnson’s famous put-down of a woman preaching being akin to a dog walking on its hind legs, the remarkable thing about it being “not that it was being done well, but that it was being done at all” – into something that today is a worthy companion to its male counterpart.
England’s hard-fought 42-21 victory yesterday gave them their sixth consecutive Women’s Six Nation title and third consecutive Grand Slam.
This was also a thoroughly entertaining match with plenty of physical contact, thrilling breaks by both sides and some delightful creativity to leaven the mix. However, by the end – confirming the oft-expressed concerns of some sports journalists and rugby fans – despite the French team’s constant sterling efforts, even after they had been reduced to 14 by a red card – the result only emphasised England’s superiority over all other Northern Hemisphere international teams.
It doesn’t do any sport much good in terms of credibility/reputation, mass popularity or indeed future development for one team to be so far ahead and massively superior to every other. One only has to look at the England Women’s margin of victory over Ireland in this year’s Six Nations (88-10) to register that fact with bells on!
