Flurry of modern-day substitutes is an insult to past greats

If I were asked to nominate the most interesting feature of rugby union football during the past season, I should say it was the mass entrance of substitutes in the last quarter of the match, sometimes before then, often, indeed, when there were only a few minutes to go before the final whistle. I have even witnessed the introduction of substitutes in injury time.

If I were asked to nominate the most interesting feature of rugby union football during the past season, I should say it was the mass entrance of substitutes in the last quarter of the match, sometimes before then, often, indeed, when there were only a few minutes to go before the final whistle. I have even witnessed the introduction of substitutes in injury time.

The television commentators and summarisers, having a lot on their minds, tend not to notice until they see either a strange face before them or an announcement at the bottom of the screen which they are adorning with their remarks. The match reporters from the papers, equally hard-pressed, if not more so, ask their colleagues whether the chap with the No 17 on his jersey is really Jones, or is it Bloggs, for teams add to or subtract from their substitutes with more abandon than they show over their first choices.

A particular injustice concerns the award of international caps. A player can trot on to the field, fail to touch either the ball or an opponent, and trott off it a few minutes later in proud procession of a full cap. When you think of the number of occasions when Jon Raphael of Northampton, for instance, was the England reserve hooker without winning a single cap, the injustice is clear. Exactly the same applies to Roy Thomas of Llanelli, who, in the same position, was a perpetual bridesmaid in the Welsh side. Before him there was another hooker, Graham Jeffreys of Swansea, who deserved numerous caps but did not win a single one.

Whether hookers were peculiarly liable to be passed over for full international recognition, I do not know. Maybe the examples I have cited come about by chance. What is evident is that the injustice done to them would not be repeated today.

In international matches seven substitutes are allowed. A hooker is invariably included among them and is highly likely to be given his chance before the match is out – usually because the opposing side have managed to take a few catches against the throw into the lineout and the poor old hooker is being blamed for his alleged inaccuracy.

Similarly, a prop who can play on either side of the front row is at a premium. Accordingly, if Jason Leonard is not picked by Clive Woodward, the manager, for the England XV he is virtually certain to be among the substitutes because he can pack on either side. The same versatility accounts for the relative longevity of Spencer John in the Wales squad, because I cannot think of any other good reason for his presence.

In fact the overwhelming majority of props have a preference for one side or the other. Thus Leonard is more comfortable at loose-head. It is rare to find anyone who is, so to speak, genuinely ambidextrous in this position. There is a case for including both a specialist loose-head and a specialist tight-head among the substitutes. This, after all, is what Graham Henry, the former Wales coach, used to do at the beginning of his reign, though for some reason he later relinquished the practice. London Irish, this Saturday's cup finalists, still follow it. They used to go in for changing the front row en bloc at half-time, until the ploy was prohibited. They still have an entire front row on the bench – and it has paid off.

Another necessary substitute is a scrum-half. I have nothing against Dwayne Peel of Llanelli, and god bless all who sail in him. But even allowing for the enforced absence of Gareth Cooper of Bath, I have been astonished that Peel should be Wales' substitute in this position when he is not even the first choice for his club. But perhaps one should not be too surprised. Woodward chose Nick Duncombe as a substitute when he had played only four games for Harlequins.

Yet another necessary substitute is, of course, a place-kicker. Iestyn Harris occupied this position for Wales for most of the Six Nations not only because he filled this role but also because he was thought unready for the full rigors of the competition. This was absurd. He was 26, and had played league at the highest level. A clear decision should have been arrived at about his best position – outside-half, inside centre or, my own preference, full-back – and he should then have been given his chance, while leaving Stephen Jones as the first-choice place-kicker.

I am not against substitutes, if necessary in quantity. It was a retched business when games were decided by chance injuries. But I should like to confine them to such cases. Some hope! For in a professional era, there would inevitably be cheating. But could club managements at least stop bringing substitutes on in the last few minutes for no good reason except to get their names in the papers?