In the beginning...
God created Rugby, and into Rugby, He
placed Brute Force, and he called Brute Force 'Forwards'. He gave
unto Forwards a ball, and they squashed the ball and banged their
heads together. And God saw what He had made and it was good.
And God said 'Rugby needs Intelligence
and Flair', and He called Intelligence and Flair 'Backs'. And He said
'As the beasts of burden serve their masters, so shall the Forwards
serve the Backs.' And the Forwards delivered unto the Backs the ball.
And the Backs ran around the Forwards and scored tries. And God saw
what He had done and it was good. And sometimes He even cheered.
But it came to pass that some of the
Forwards said unto themselves 'Why do we belt our brains out while
the Backs get all the glory'. And these Forwards began to eat of the
forbidden tree of Intelligence and Flair. And some of them learned to
walk upright, while others learned to speak in polysyllables. Hell,
one even ran the length of the field to score a try! And God looked
upon His creation and was slightly perturbed.
And it came to pass that some of the
Backs said unto themselves 'Why do we allow these primordial
behemoths grind our bones in tackles, scrums and mauls'. and they
began to eat of the forbidden tree of Brute Force. And some began to
pump iron, and some lost their necks, and others began to grunt, and
they became larger than even the Forwards of generations past. And
they stood flat and ran into the forwards and not round them. And
they forsook scoring tries in favour of drawing penalties. And by now
they were starting to give God the shits.
So God said unto his creation. “Why
hast thou transgressed the natural order which I set upon thee? I
shall smite thy players with marks which cover their backs, their
chests, their necks and their arms. And they shall think these marks
make them look 'cool' and 'individual' but verily they shall look
like tools. And thy players shall talk of themselves in the Third
Person so that they shall also sound like tools. And I shall plague
thee with inane rules, stupid penalties, senseless kicks. And I will
curse thee with 'Boredom' so that League, or AFL, verily even Soccer,
will look interesting by comparison. And fans will forsake thee. And
parents shall say unto their sons “don't play with those wankers”.
But there came a Prophet who spoke
thus, “Cry not Rugby. There shall come a team wherein the Forwards
will play tight and with grit such that the Opposition will be forced
to commit themselves unto the maul. And this Pack shall deliver unto
the Backs clean ball. And the backs will stand deep and will attack
with determination and imagination, and will run the ball wide, for
phase upon phase, and shall not kick the frigging thing unto the
opposition. And the Players shall treasure their Jerseys more than
their commercial contracts. And they shall banish their managers unto
the wilderness. And they shall speak of themselves in the First
Person Plural as if the triumphs and trespasses of each were the
triumphs and trespasses of all. And they shall win many games and
cast out many opponents. Including the All Blacks. At Dunedin!”
And the Prophet said “There will be
rejoicing through all corners of the land. And children will hide
their round balls in shame. And Fathers and Mothers shall stand
proudly on the sidelines in rain and sleet and weather of the foulest
kind. And the playing fields will ring with the sound of young
children playing for the love of the game and cheering their
opponents in victory or defeat. And God shall look upon His creation
and say 'Well Played'”
