As the Tri-Nations is about to start and the World Cup holders will play the World Cup favourites, it is time to think about the World Cup: what it means, what it delivers and its impact.
I know there has been a huge debate on whether the All Blacks were poisoned in 1995, and whether that was that the sole reason they lost the game. There has been debate, ad nauseam, about the All Blacks losing to the French last year, and so forth.
To me it provokes a wider debate: Has the World Cup been successful in developing the game, or has it merely resulted in the development of conservative rugby? Do sides now solely focus on a four-year cycle, and on developing a winning formula, devoid of creativity and fun and based on cold, pragmatic professionalism?
I look at other sports — football in particular — and wonder whether the sides that are successful are the best defensive sides, or the best organised and efficient sides. The Italians could be brilliant, but instead prefer to defend and play as though football were a game of chess.
The debate about the All Blacks in 1995 will rumble on, but in the end it is irrelevant. It is done, the Boks won and provided the world with one of its greatest sporting moments, thanks to Nelson Mandela. The truth is they were not the best team in the world; they were the better team on the day. The All Blacks were the best side in the world, but second best on that particular day, yet they sought and exacted their revenge the following year by a resounding Test-series win in South Africa — the first time in their history. Satisfying, but it still did not bestow on them the title of best team in the world.
At the moment we all bow to the belief that the best team in the world win the World Cup. I am not so sure that will always hold true. I think it has predominantly run that way so far, except 1995, and there will be debate about 2007. But in 1987, 1991, 1999 and 2003 I do not believe there was much room for debate.
I think 2007 saw a polarisation of rugby, with one of the teams of the tournament making the final, and a team that could win ball, defend, exert enough pressure and — most importantly of all — kick their goals make the final. England (and I say this as a huge, biased, bigoted, arrogant, condescending, aloof — the full English Monty, basically — fan) were nowhere near the second-best side in the world that year. They got to the final through many admirable qualities, those of bravery, desire, pride, teamwork, commitment and sacrifice, but being honest, they got there without displaying many rugby qualities for us to admire. Guts and commitment with a large dose of experience and a touch of luck — that is what World Cup rugby can deliver.
In 1995 the Boks produced a performance of such intensity and bravery that they overcame a great side. The Boks were not pretty — in fact, many were downright ugly — and their rugby was fairly similar, but it was effective. Bloody effective. In a series the All Blacks would have beaten them; in a series the English would not have featured in 2007. Cup rugby is about that day, that match, those 80 minutes, and that is what makes it so compelling; at the same time that is what can make it so crippling and negative.
Tiny factors can determine the game, moments of misfortune can never be rectified, accounted for, and that is what can wrench the guts. I remember being at a dinner pre-2003 with Francois Pienaar, Michael Lynagh, Sean Fitzpatrick and guests of one of my clients. The inevitable question came up about 1995, and Sean answered it honestly and fairly and never once hinted at poisoning.
Francois’s answer, not surprisingly, was a little longer, possibly half an hour longer, and the crux of it all came down to the edge they had because of one man. He said they were two great sides, but that the Boks had Nelson Mandela. I pipped up with the fact that, yes, he was great, but that I thought he had faded a little in the second half … to be fair, the audience seemed to enjoy that line (mind you, most had lost the will to live during Francois’s answer) but Francois himself gave me a look that told me he was very definitely not amused!
Seriously, Mandela had a huge effect, but other far less important figures, moments and decisions have affected on all the great and not-so-great World Cup games before and after.
I know I am waffling on as usual, but somewhere I am just questioning how beneficial our obsession with the World Cup is. Yes, it has produced and will continue to produce defining moments, breathtaking moments, but it has also changed the way rugby is played, coached and ultimately judged. Does it produce the style of rugby we all enjoy watching? Does it encourage risks, development, flair and creativity? Or does it reward the perfection of defence?
I think there are huge pluses, but most certainly also huge minuses to its legacy. Maybe 2011 will witness another amazing chapter in its history. I just hope that in the build-up to it, we remember that each and every Test match is important, and as such every point should be earned and every point fought for — in every way, if necessary!
So I shall settle into my armchair — it is quite a big chair, these days — and look forward to watching the holders against the should-have-beens, with the Aussies quietly waiting to pick them both off. My money, what little I have, would go on the Boks, but that would mean that I cared, and let’s be honest, we all know I don’t give a sh*t!