THE ART OF RUGBY

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I count myself an artist. Once upon a time professionally trained, I paint, I exhibit, and I sell my works.  What has this piece of self promotion got to do with rugby?  I see the game like a picture and right now rugby resembles less a colourful painting, than a monochrome mess.

When composing and painting a picture I stand back from it, narrow my eyes and view the picture as though out of focus.  This has the effect of eliminating the detail and creates an overall effect much like viewing an out of focus TV picture.

Critically it gives you the feel for contrasts, of dark against light, of broad brush as opposed to fine grain.   Were you to metaphorically narrow your eyes at a game you would see a uniformity of vision, with movement back and forth of even consistency, of little change in rhythm and little of the spark that colour can bring to a picture.

Rugby is systematically being stripped of its intricacies, piece by piece the building blocks that underpin its strengths as epitomised by the set piece are being laid bare.

By the watering down of the physical contact and the elimination of the games detail in favour of a broad brush, lightly applied coat of gloss the game has become a stereotype for what was once a phalanx of variables which made such a unique entity in sport.

The artist Mark Rothko went on a journey of discovery through painting, gradually eliminating all detail from his pictures before arriving at a canvas of just two or sometimes 3 colours.  He had arrived at artistic nihilism and shot himself.

Whilst not suggesting rugby fans will shoot themselves as they watch a game stripped of all its detail.    I do think a watershed is looming were fans will decide there is little point wasting money to watch a sport which is repetitive, unrelenting in a brutal but boring way and ultimately tinkered with till it’s unrecognisable from its origins.

It is time the law makers stopped working to an agenda to suit a specific market force and accepted that the game can be a little boring sometimes but that the average rugby spectator is not stupid and can discern the finer points of the game.

So To the Weekend’s Games

Having set out my little stall and highlighted my position in the conservative end of the rugby spectator spectrum I should explain that I enjoyed many of the weekend’s games, not the least Ulster’s.

To take the All Black’s game, I very much enjoyed the limited Irish renaissance in that Ireland showed a combativeness not previously seen in the AI’s game.

There was much talk of them sticking to the game plan to play open running rugby but presented not too great a weight of evidence for said objectives.  Partly because the All Black’s crushed them at significant moments before and just after halftime with the weight of possession.

Playing keep ball is the mantra nowadays and in truth it is here that I fail to eulogise the AB’s because they have been playing this type of game longer than anyone and are best practised at it.   One feels the game has been adapted to suit them not the other way round .

Nevertheless it was hard to begrudge them their win and the way they patiently swung the ball back and forth across the pitch.  It was  like watching a rally at a tennis match, my head was in danger of going noddy.

Unfortunately the lack of real variety to this game, despite the excitement of Saturday evening’s joist is ultimately going to kill it unless you like your rugby like the current tennis.   All baseline and little to savour in the finer arts of coming to the net with the cut and thrust of the rapier.

Ulster by contrast awoke from the slumber of the to and fro across the pitch to turn-over  and counter attack with pace and verve.  This is the cut and thrust I refer to and makes the game so unpredictable as happened last Sunday evening. The last 30 minutes were for even the neutrals to savour.

The Irish in Hot Houses

One of the most astonishing admissions by Irish rugby following the first two games of the Autumn internationals is they cannot play in bad weather.  In a country where they get more wind and rain in a month than the average Springbok gets in a year, it was the Irish who failed to deal with the poor weather.

It’s an unexpected turn of events, but its roots may lie in the upsurge of indoor training facilities.  It doesn’t in any way prepare you for the real water and howling mistral that invades Ravenhill and other rugby grounds in the UK during the Autumn and winter.

Twits ‘R’ Us

Over the past week various tweeting Ulster ruggerites have been  promoting Belfast’s Wagamama’s.  In fact Stevie Ferris travelled all the way up from Dublin to tell fellow twits how great the place was for a feed, helpfully listing the courses he consumed.

Andrew Trimble meanwhile has been ploughing his own furrow. Andy, whom the Sunday Life described as having a quirky sense of humour has been tweeting to I Humph, how much Humps wife fancied him (Trimby that is).

Trimble was also telling the media that he would consider a change of scenery, citing Bowe as an example of how a change of club and scene can change your career for the better.

Trimble’s thoughts being elsewhere than Ulster has clearly unfocussed his mind of recent times and he has performed a headless chicken routine at times on the pitch.

Andy should continue to practice his quirky humour by tweet but should also practise to improve which is how T. Bowe enhanced his career, as much as moving away from Ulster helped gain him the recognition he deserved.


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