You’ve got to be kidding me!

"The Rock and Aquaman sign for NZ Rugby"

My initial feeling was one of righteous indignation; the apparent devaluation of the world’s most successful sporting franchise left me incensed.  That was closely followed by a wry smile as I contemplated the welcome that a couple of Hollywood icons might receive from the opponents of Ngati Porou East Coast and the Thames Valley Swamp Foxes when Dwayne (The Rock) Johnson and Jason (Aquaman) Momoa donned their respective club colours.  I imagined that some of the tackling they might experience would be a little more robust than the ‘People’s Elbow’ flim-flammery demonstrated on The Rock’s WWE showreel.

By the time I’d arrived at my early morning exercise class my position was shifting, as I considered the impact to the profile of the game in the US by the All Blacks signing such recognisable names.  Might it be a clever marketing ploy to bring Rugby to a much greater audience?

Cue the post-exercise dog walk, and I had returned to my original opinion.  My rising ire had restored the outrage I felt at Steve Tew, New Zealand Rugby’s CEO, for selling out the All Blacks.  By the time I was home, this week’s blog had largely written itself.

It must be stressed that Mrs. GOM’s patience was being stretched as I launched into yet another invective.  “When did you read this?” she asked.

  “Today.”

  “And the date is…?”

  “Ah.”

If NZ Rugby wonders whether anyone was fooled by its April 1^st wheeze, they need look no further.  The blog in my head began to fade but was not entirely extinguished.

To set out my stall, I don’t like to see people represent a country unless they were born there.  I know that athletes the world over want to perform at the highest level and that, sometimes, the adoption of another nation may be their best route to achieve that aim.  I also appreciate that circumstances may render my stance ridiculous; an infant being taken by his or her parents to settle in a new country before they’ve started on solid foods is a fair example, but that doesn’t lessen my pig-headedness.  There are times when folding one’s arms in a pub debate and being intransigent is the very essence of the bliss that stems from ignorance.

Don’t mistake my view for fervent patriotism or rabid nationalism.  That said, challenging my heritage as a New Zealander may earn you a poke in the eye with a sharp stick, unless you happen to be a Customs official at Heathrow examining my passport, in which case, I’m a little less jingoistic and delighted to be British thank you very much.  I simply like the ideal that a country is represented by the very best that it has to offer and cannot be enhanced by imported expertise (although if Semisi and Hepi Lomu had had their boy Jonah in Tonga, I’d perhaps bend my rules just a smidge).

What NZ Rugby’s wee jape has brought up though, is the issue of imported players which has long niggled me.  For years I have had to endure taunts about the composition of the All Black team, putting up with jibes from countless Brits and Irish telling me that NZ Rugby steals babies from the cribs of Pacific Island households to improve the national side.  Granted, there have been some brilliant Pacific Islanders that have pulled on the All Black jersey over the years, and there are a few in the squad even now, yet after listening to a commentary during a recent Six Nations match, I could be forgiven for thinking I was listening to a match between Samoa and Fiji.

So, before the next person tries to have a poke at me about the number of Islanders in the All Blacks squad, let me put things into perspective.  In the Autumn international between Ireland and New Zealand, of the 30 players that started that match, 16 were born in New Zealand.  That comprised New Zealand’s entire starting line-up and Ireland’s Bundee Aki who hails from Auckland.  For good measure, South Africa and England were also represented in the Ireland team in the forms of CJ Stander and Kieran Marmion.

But Ireland are hardly the worst transgressors when it comes to not representing the country of one’s birth, the English (or not as the case may be) take a leadership role in adoption.  A look at their squad reveals seven foreign born players: a couple of Aussies (Alec Hepburn and Billy Vunipola), a couple of Kiwis (Brad Shields and Ben Te'o) and the South Pacific is further represented by Manu Tuilagi from Samoa and two Fijians, Joe Cokanasiga and Nathan Hughes.

It doesn’t stop with England though, the top prize goes to the Italians, whose squad of 31 players includes 10 that were born overseas, including one from that powerhouse of world rugby, Germany.

No wonder they’re doing so well.

It’s understandable why they might wish to add a foreign contingent to their side; the pool of local talent isn’t too deep and the game’s heritage and experience, on which other countries are able to draw, doesn’t exist for the Italians, so they have fewer options.  However, countries that are well established such as England, Ireland and, dare I say it, New Zealand, should be doing everything to develop home-grown talent and allow the foreign-born players to rise to their potential in their home nations.  By recruiting players into a national side after a qualifying period, the international game is fostering a transfer market that will see the wealthier nations acquire their squads rather than giving birth to them, which compromises the ethos of international sport.

I admit to ignoring the subtleties of the argument completely and my arms are firmly crossed on this subject.  Counter arguments can be thrown at me ad infinitum, my position won’t change, so it’s as well that New Zealand Rugby was messing with us with their announcement on Monday, which is a great shame, I was rather looking forward to seeing the footage of The Rock being hammered in a bone-crunching tackle by a sheep-shearing loose-forward on the battlefields of rural Ruatoria.

Twitter: @GOMinTraining
Copyright © Craig Brown, 2019

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