In writing a blogpost about rugby union, I recognise that I am probably not the best qualified person to do so. I have never played the game, although I do understand the laws, at least up until the referee starts to interpret them in the manner of his so choosing. But then, who really does know what’s going on in union? “What was that for?” is the most common statement made by a lay-person whilst watching a game ‘live’ as the referee blows his whistle for some offence or other. I usually say someone was offside which covers most penalties. If you are an England rugby fan, then I’ll come straight to the point: next Saturday night, England will be out of the world cup.
For many of our Welsh cousins, I suspect that defeating England as they did will be sufficient, regardless of what happens in the rest of the tournament. They will probably get as far as the quarter finals, maybe one step beyond, but as the injuries pile up, they probably know there is little chance of them winning the trophy. But for England, going out of the world cup, in the “pool” stages – the first home country ever to go out of a world cup without reaching the knock out stages (I thought that was reserved for Japan next time!) – would be a tournament killer, for me anyway. I can sit down with a few cans to cheer on my country but I am not that bothered at being an interested neutral. I’d probably want one team to lose more than the other, not a healthy state of mind.
The reason England will lose is simple: losing is what we are good at. Australia, I am told, are a fantastic side in top form, with something approaching their best team being available. They are no longer a joke in the scrum, they have some of the best backs in the world. Australia by 10, I reckon, with England reduced to a meaningless last game against the plucky amateurs of Uruguay. That will be fun.
It is this dreadful air of pessimism that keeps me going. I felt our boys would defeat injury-ravaged Wales although the longer the game went on, the less optimistic I became. And when Wales scored THAT try, I knew the game was up. We can blame the referee if we like – it’s easy in a game where so much of the action depends on the opinion of the referee – but I just thought we were crap when it really mattered.
There will be the usual electric atmosphere at Twickenham as the Home Counties brigade abandon their 4x4s in the car park and there will be plenty of Swing Low Sweet Charioting, but I fear come 10.00 pm ITV executives will be reaching for the strychnine.
If my nightmare scenario comes to fruition, as I expect it to do by a comfortable margin, the world cup will be all but over for me. I’m afraid I’m usually like that at most world sporting events. When my country has cocked up, unless there is a Spain or a classic Brazil side for me to drool over, I don’t care.
Rugby union’s big cheeses say they are desperate to spread the game from the playing fields of Eton and Millfield. With England departing at the earliest possible stage, along with fellow giants like Uruguay and Georgia, the growth of the game will have to wait for another day.