Six Nations France vs England: Joe Marler if you must sledge the opposition, at least put some thought into it

England prop did not opt for the most sophisticated form of words during his confrontation with Samson Lee

England's Joe Marler (2-L) scuffles with Wales' Samson Lee during the Six Nations rugby match at Twickenham (EPA)

The quality of sledging is strained. Perhaps it is the heat of the moment, the intensity of the battle that enhances the testosterone levels as it dulls the wits, but if chaps wish to indulge then they ought to do it with much more brio and inventiveness.

There were so many things that Joe Marler might have mentioned to his opponent Samson Lee last weekend during the Six Nations match between England and Wales. For instance, he could have suggested that Samson was playing like Delilah. Instead Marler chose to bring the house down by calling his fellow prop, “Gypsy Boy,” a crude reference to Lee’s background in a travelling family.

The Six Nations disciplinary panel, in its dubious wisdom, decided that Marler had not breached its code of conduct, though the Chancellor of the Exchequer appears to have left himself more wriggle room in reducing the nation’s deficit than Marler and World Rugby, the supreme governing body, is seeking an explanation. According to the regulations, verbal abuse of a player based on religion, race, colour, national or ethnic origin, sexual orientation, or otherwise carries a minimum suspension of four weeks.

If it was felt that none of the first six had been transgressed the “otherwise” gives any tribunal a lot of latitude. But Marler escaped a ban and takes his place today on England’s substitutes’ bench as they attempt to win their first Grand Slam in 13 years, against France.

Presumably, the team’s coach, Eddie Jones, made his decision based on form, though it is possible he did not want to risk a repeat so soon, despite Marler’s contrite protestations that he has learnt his lesson. The prospect of alluding, say, to garlic-eating surrender monkeys as the scrum got down and dirty was not one to be entertained lightly.

It occurs that if players are determined to sledge their opponents – and they are – then they ought to approach it with a level of preparation similar to the manner in which they play. England will have researched Lee’s strengths and weaknesses as a prop forward, whether he is prone to come in offside at the maul, drops his left shoulder in the set piece, cannot control his elbows at the line-out and all the other arcane tricks of a prop forward’s trade.

But if teams want to play the mind game, then there are more effective ways of doing that too, by discovering what makes individual opponents tick. This might require extreme measures but we live in a sporting age when it is expected that as little as possible is left to chance.

Alongside the coaches, the medics, the analysts and the psychologists, an obvious part of a sporting team’s evolution would be to hire private detectives to investigate opponents. Apart from anything else it would provide much-needed work to a struggling sector of the workforce now that the popular press has been forced to clean up its act.

Strict regulations, at least as strict and enforceable as the Six Nations disciplinary code, would be required to ensure that personal and private information was neither discovered nor divulged. But it still leaves scope for abundant psychological warfare.

Suppose Samson Lee has stamp-collecting as a hobby. He may, he may not but consider for the purposes of this argument he does and that England knew it. Marler could then have got seriously under Lee’s skin by hinting, when it was becoming particularly ticklish in the loose, that he had managed to acquire a rare British Penny Red at a snip for his own collection and was thinking of using it to wipe his nose. The seething sense of envy and loathing thus engendered in Lee could well have completely disrupted his performance.

The endless nuances and sophisticated possibilities of sledging continue to be elusive, however. There were probably no halcyon days, no golden age even in cricket which has entire volumes devoted to the subject.

There is a wonderful drawing by the cartoonist, Mike Williams, called “Early Sledging”. Beneath it a short-leg is muttering to a batsman, sporting top hat and long beard: “I’ll bet your mother’s sister’s brother is not a particularly pleasant sort of person.”

In truth, most of it consists of bowlers telling batsmen how blimmin’ lucky they have just been, or earthier variants on the theme. Less frequently, batsmen let bowlers know precisely what they think. This is no better embodied than by Allan Border, the former Australia captain, who having been told his fortune by the England bowler Angus Fraser, after playing and missing, said: “I’ve faced bigger, uglier bowlers than you, mate. Now fuck off and bowl the next one.”

But it was truly a different place once. It would be difficult to imagine an exchange taking place now of the sort which occurred between two England off-spinners in the Sixties. Middlesex were playing Surrey at Lord’s. Pat Pocock, known to all and sundry as Percy, came in to face Fred Titmus wearing glasses (no helmets then).

“Why have you got those things on the end of your nose, Perce?” asked Fred. “Because I’m bloody deaf, what do you think?” rejoindered Percy. Titmus then proceeded to bowl Pocock first ball and, as the downcast batsman passed him on the way back to the pavilion, he said: “You didn’t hear that one too well, though, did you?” Joe Marler, eat your heart out – that’s sledging.