Rugby Union: Show of strength, sign of weakness

Chris Rea predicts a stiffer test for England next weekend than at Old Trafford

In the immortal words of that distinguished poet philosopher, Max Walter William Bygraves, I wanna tell you a story. In 1971, Scotland won a Calcutta Cup match at Twickenham. As this was the Scots' first success on the ground for 33 years, there was some restrained revelry afterwards in the visitors' dressing-room. An hour or so later, as the two teams filed on to their respective buses, a Scottish player, in full view of his erstwhile opponents, began shredding the England jersey he had swapped for his own at the end of the match. It was a demeaning act of vandalism, intended as a show of triumphalism and designed to humiliate the enemy, but it was in fact a sad betrayal of the individual's deep-rooted sense of inferiority which received the contempt of those he wished to mock.

So it was with Richard Cockerill's childish posturing and attention seeking during the haka at Old Trafford. What was meant as a show of strength was merely a demonstration of vulnerability. Cockerill's action was never going to stop the All Blacks, but if others follow his lead, it will most certainly stop the haka and, for the vast majority who view this ritual as a spectacular piece of theatre, and not as a challenge to their manhood, that would be a great pity. Although Cockerill may not believe it, these observations are made with his best interests at heart. He had a fine match last Saturday, but if he is to progress he must quickly ditch the emotional baggage which he so obviously carries with him and which so often threatens to engulf him.

Equally senseless has been the importance which many have attached to the atmosphere at sporting venues and the contrast between Old Trafford last Saturday and the sepulchral silence at Twickenham the previous week. Predictably, there has been the usual claptrap about the jaded middle classes who populate Twickers, which it is argued has become a shrine to the god of corporate entertainment. The fact that, per capita, there was at least as much corporate entertaining at Old Trafford as there is at Twickenham, has been conveniently overlooked. When will the penny drop that it is not the atmosphere which generates the performance but vice- versa?

If England had played against the All Blacks as they did against the Wallabies they would have been booed off the park. The singing of the national anthem at Twickenham two weeks ago was as rousing and impassioned as I have ever heard it and for the first 10 minutes, when England played with a semblance ofcommitment, the noise levels were rising in expectation of an exciting contest. But it was ultimately the poor performance of the team which dictated and deserved the muted reaction of the crowd. Four years ago when England recorded a famous victory over the All Blacks on the very same ground I don't recall comment about crowd under- reaction. It is true the cavernous new stands banking so far above the playing arena tend to defuse the sound, but if the sum of the intimacy has been lost, the spectators' desire to see their country succeed burns as passionately as ever. And should, perchance, the All Blacks be brought to their knees on Saturday, I venture to suggest that Twickenham will provide us with scenes of unparalleled rejoicing.

It is, however, unlikely. If England are heading in the right direction and if, under Clive Woodward's imaginative command, they are showing signs of developing into a force to be taken seriously, there is a long way still to go to the summit. They probably couldn't have played much better than they did at Old Trafford yet at no stage did they ever look capable of unsettling the All Blacks. The idea that they might beat them did not even enter the equation. The All Blacks on the other hand were, for most of the time, simply going through the motions. One hesitates to say it, but they gave every appearance of rank complacency which can be pernicious. With their midweek side also showing signs of fallibility in the face of surprisingly stout resistance by England's hastily cobbled-together combination, the fatigue of an interminably long season may be taking its toll.

Seldom in recent times have we seen the All Blacks' concentration lapse for such long periods. They got away with it at Old Trafford aided by the woeful goal kicking and lack of sophistication of the opposition and by their own ability to raise their game on demand, but the warning signs were there. The only problem is that no rugby playing nation on earth can read those signs more clearly than New Zealand and no team in the world can interpret them more effectively than the All Blacks.