Richards fires up Harlequins for rogue season

England's leading rugby clubs often talk of their determination not to follow the "football model", and for the most part they are true to their word: we have yet to see Leicester or Wasps surrender themselves to an exiled Asian prime minister with a dodgy human rights record or a fresh-faced Russian plutocrat, a desert Sheikh or an elderly American carpetbagger. The last time seriously rich people tried to buy their way into the Guinness Premiership – the South African syndicate behind the London Tribe venture – Twickenham slammed the door in their faces. There's more to rugger than money, old chap.

But the union code is not immune from the laws of sporting economics, as defined by the so-called "beautiful game" in all its ugly distortion. Agents are a growing presence in professional union – indeed, the governing body is doing everything in its power, which may not be much, to minimise their influence on the most talented teenage players – and there is a sharp division between those Premiership clubs who understand the value of a little utilitarianism and wealthier types who would like nothing better than to climb the rope and pull it up behind them.

If the contest between the two camps is close now, it is not likely to be close for long: the salary cap will be reviewed again in a couple of years' time, and another damaging hike is inevitable. But the tournament beginning at Twickenham today will be the biggest and brashest in the 22-year history of league rugby in England – more season-ticket holders, more full houses, more television coverage – and quite probably the best, too. There is still no great distance between the country's most powerful clubs and fast-improving sides like Bath, Harlequins, Saracens and London Irish. Which leaves four others, all of whom play at venues the rest would avoid like the plague, given half a chance. Try picking a top five or bottom three. Fermat's Last Theorem is easy by comparison.

Rugby's Byzantine politics creates the unpredictability on which the Premiership's fascination rests. Ian McGeechan of Wasps, the wisest of coaches, believes this to be a rogue campaign "out of kilter with how a season should look under the new agreement between the clubs and the RFU [Rugby Football Union]". He is right. Not only have fixtures been sardined into a shortened programme to accommodate the British and Irish Lions' trek to South Africa next summer – McGeechan cannot complain since he is the tourists' coach – but the scheduling of the unloved EDF Energy Cup is still causing maximum disruption.

Yet these compromises and contradictions level the playing field by helping those clubs who have two or three contenders for England preferment, rather than eight or nine. And by the time the EDF is rebranded and repositioned for the 2009-10 season, the Quins and Saracens of this world will be better placed to take the fight to Wasps, Leicester and Sale, who between them have won every title since freshly promoted Newcastle snuck off with it in 1998.

Quins look dangerous. They are re-cruiting intelligently under an effective director of rugby in Dean Richards and have access to money when they need it. Indeed, a fair bit of the cash that might have backed the London Tribe now underpins their quest for a first league title.

There again, every club, with the exceptions of Bristol and Newcastle, can view the coming campaign in a positive light, rather than with fear and loathing. It is possible to imagine eight of the 12 in a Premiership semi-final, and any two from half a dozen in the final itself. It just goes to show that when it comes to having fun, billionaires are not absolutely essential – or even desirable.

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