I WATCHED Rugby's FOSROC Super6 final, from the new DAM Health Edinburgh Stadium on Sunday afternoon. Ayrshire Bulls (that's Ayr in old money), beat Southern Knights (Melrose) 26-16 in a very-good game.
One of the major talking points in the rugby community was that the Bulls finished with 13 men. Jordan Lenac, their Australian scrum-half was sent to the sin bin with eight minutes left, for an off-the-ball tackle. Then, two minutes later, English second row Tom Everard copped a straight red card for a high tackle, which saw Knights' Jacob Henry removed from the field on a stretcher.
Referee Keith Allen consulted his assistant, David Sutherland, then summoned Everard AND Bulls' captain Blair Macpherson. He outlined his decision to both, showed Everard the red card and the big lock immediately accepted his dismissal and left the field without rancour.
Now, imagine if that had been a football match of similar status. The yellow card would not have meant the loss of a player, while the showing of the red card would immediately have seen the referee surrounded by the culprit's team mates and subjected to dog's abuse. The fans would have been going ape shit on the sidelines and social media would go into melt down with the fall-out.
Football has a great deal of growing-up to do.
I have long felt, football, as the purest form of football, really should be working with standards of behaviour and respect for opponents and officials even above that shown in both forms of Rugby – Union and League. We should be hammering not just foul play, but the cynicism of the modern game.
Referees, I feel, should also be giving the team captain's their place. In rugby, if a player is being carded, particularly red-carded, the referee always summons the player and the captain, and tells them why the card is being shown. Occasionally – yes you Owen Farrell and Alun Wyn Jones – a captain will occasionally talk back, but, most skippers accept the referee's decision and the game moves on.
Players respect the referee's authority and the referees acknowledge the position of the team captain – football should maybe adopt these protocols.
I'VE TOLD this story before, but, it's worth the re-telling. Some 30 years ago, when it was Scotland's turn to host the annual International Football Associations Board meeting – the game's version of a super government get-together – they put-up the IFAB delegates at Turnberry. On the Saturday afternoon, the non-golfers got a real treat, a Kilmarnock home game at Rugby Park.
Back then, the press seats at the ground were in the back row of the Directors' Box and some of the IFAB high heid yins, in particular then Football Association CEO Graham Kelly were not best pleased at having to sit right infront of the hack pack.
However, by half time, a dialogue had been established by those of us behind him and Mr Kelly, to the extent he didn't go downstairs for his half-time Killie Pie and Bovril, but, remained in his seat, speaking to the boys.
At the end of the game, he shook hands with us all, apologised for his initial frostiness. “I thought you guys were going to be like English football writers, but, you care about the game,” he said, before wishing us well and departing.
As it happens, I agreed with his view of the English hacks – they really had some disagreeable wee cnuts in their ranks back then, probably still do for all I know. But, I have long felt causing a stir and making waves comes before honestly covering the game for many English hacks.
There is a good example of this just now. There is an under-current building-up, the start of what could be a determined crusade to get Ole Gunnar Solskjaer sacked from his role as Manchester United manager.
OK, I accept both Manchester teams probably have more Glory Hunters in their support than even our own Bigot Brothers, but, a bit of a reality check – as of today, MU lie sixth in the English Premiership, five points off first place. If what the English hacks tell us and they are playing in: The Best League in the World, then, I would suggest sixth isn't a bad place to be.
English football really needs to take a long hard look at itself. Much as they love quoting English clubs' wins in European competitions, the facts are:
No English club has won a European trophy with an all-English squad
England's record in international competitions is abysmal
World Cup – 1 HOME win in 18 attempts – 5.5% success rate
European Championships – 0 wins in 16 attempts – 0% success rate
But still, every four years, their football media convinces their fans: Football's coming home.
Delusional, or what?
And yes I know – we cannot talk.
I HAVE NOT been blogging as much as I should have, of late, so this is the first chance I have had to mark the passing of former Liverpool and England striker Roger Hunt.
Hunt is immortalised as one of the Boys of '66, the team who beat West Germany to win the 1966 World Cup Final. He was perhaps the least-lauded of that 11; he wasn't, like Gordon Banks, Ray Wilson, Bobby Moore or Bobby Charlton, arguably the best player in the world in his position. He didn't, like Alan Ball or Geoff Hurst have a career-defining game that day. He wasn't, like Martin Peters “the future” in his position. No, like George Cohen, Nobby Stiles and Jack Charlton, he was a football journeyman who got lucky on one day and in one tournament.
Yes, he has a good strike record, certainly he was worthy of his place in a good Liverpool side, but, he was lucky to be picked ahead of Jimmy Greaves for that final. Greaves was a far-superior finisher.
The first time I saw Hunt was for England, against Scotland, at Hampden in 1964. Early-on in the game he was sent clear, one-on-one with goalkeeper Campbell Forsyth, who made a confidence building, excellent save, to keep the scoreline blank. I am willing to bet, had that chance fallen to Greaves, it would have been 1-0 to England and the whole game could have been different.
Certainly, Wullie Shankly picked Hunt frequently for Liverpool, so, he was a good player and a good finisher. My belated condolences to his family.
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