These pages usually start with a focus on the administration of the game. An opportunity for me to bleat about the mismanagement of the game as I see it. When you’ve had a man with such infuriating judgement running the thing you love for so long, a space to voice those frustrations can be helpful. This is cathartic for me.
But I had hoped this week to focus on the footy. Did you know the finals have started? Time to see the best of the best, footy at its finest. But instead of talking about the upcoming pinnacle of the game, Peter V’Landys decided we needed instead talk about how the players are lying to you.
It was a bold choice. A response to Harry Grant, James Tedesco and others lamenting the recent rule changes, in particular the expansion of the set restart rule. Vlando came out and said the players were lying at the lack of clarity and utility around the set-restart rule.
I think that they’re not telling the truth if they believe when they’re giving a six again, they didn’t know what it was for. I mean, I think it’s pretty obvious.
Questioning the integrity of your biggest stars on the eve of the finals is quite the choice. And before you say ‘any publicity is good publicity’, Vlando, for possible the first time ever, had to walk back his comments the very next day after the Players’ Union said ‘what the fucking fuck?’ (I may be paraphrasing). That’s the first time he’s done that in six years in charge of the game.
It was a galling error, but it also reflected Vlandys personal tie to the set-restart rule. Everyone hates it from fans to players. But this is the cornerstone of who is he is and his influence on the game. He will be remembered for this more than any broadcast deal or anything else to do with the game. It makes sense criticisms of this cut deeply.
It is intriguing he chose the players to go at. He didn’t do the same when Ricky Stuart criticised the rule earlier in the year, or when other coaches have voiced similar concerns. He just waited til he got his broadcast deal, and then quietly wound them back.
As long as we have Vlando we will have the set restart rule. As long as we have the set restart rule there will be complaining about it. Pete better get used to it. And maybe not continue to piss off literally the most important people in the game.
One: Chairman Pete
And we’ll likely have to get used to Pete for much longer, with the likely coming of his ascension to the dual-role position of ‘Executive Chairman’, meaning he’s the Chairman of the ARLC, as well as the CEO of the NRL.
Most standard criticisms of such a situation is that it’s meant to be a war-time footing. That is, it concentrates power so much in one person that you essentially lose oversight and accountability. The CEO is meant to do stuff, the Board monitors them. Now that’s one person. So you only do it when you absolutely have to.
Rugby league doesn’t need this right now. When one man is already driving the game too much, bristling when he’s held to account for poor decisions, formalising power in his hands is a terrible idea, and the game will be worse for it.
Unfortunately, it seems no one has the power, or the interest, in stopping this. Organisationally the NRL has basically ceded power to V’Landys over the years. The rest of the Board meek or supportive at the chaos V’Landys has wrought, finding succour in the broadcasting deal as justification for what they’ve allowed to happen.
Externally the players’ union doesn’t have many levers. For starters they don’t consider themselves a union, which means they don’t get as much access to advice and support from the rest of the movement.
Secondly, the main lever organised labour has is withdrawing their labour. We, the community, rarely react well to that, despite it being an appropriate (and often the worker’s only) way to rectify injustice. Doing that this act would be an absolutely nuclear button for the RLPA, and one they’d have to back to the absolute hilt. That’s hard when your membership is so dispersed and desperate.
And the media? Well, let’s just say they’re easily distracted.
Two: NRL World!
Which brings us to Vlando’s latest idea.
From the people that brought you the set restart, it’s NRL World! The new all-singing all-dancing white elephant, paid for (indirectly) with your Kayo subscriptions.
Look let’s be real. I can see how this might work as a museum. An actual Hall of Fame, a place where we celebrate the greatness of the game, pass on memories and the tendrils of tradition on to the next generation. But this doesn’t sound like that. And it sounds expensive.
This is what we worried about with the broadcasting deal. That money needs to go into expanding NRL’s reach and its pipeline. Essentially, it needs to make sure the league is set up to continue to produce the talent it needs for 20 teams. That means centralised development staff (a lot of whom were fired under Vlando) working in areas of Australia (like Western Australia to support the Bears), New Zealand, the Pacific, and maybe even into other nations, seeking to expand the base and expanse of rugby league. We do not need another amusement park to pay $400 for some rides, a showbag and two of those sticks with the chips on them.
It’s an idea right out of 1980. In a world in which small theme parks (i.e. those not backed by transnational corporations) are closing at a rapid pace, this idea simply doesn’t stand up to scrutiny.
Of course, the problem is that there isn’t going to be any scrutiny. The windfall will be spent by an organisation driven by the thoughts of one man. Brilliant or otherwise, this is the key feature of successful organisations. No one man can see all, no matter how brilliant. Without an internal contest of ideas within the NRL organisation, the outcomes will get worse, and the game won’t be able to outrun them.
And there’s not a thing me or you can do about it. Or is there?
Three: Social licence to operate
Which brings me to a problem raised by journalist Pablo Torre in the context of Steve Ballmer’s choatic and problematic operation of the LA Clippers of the NBA. There is an assumption that of inelastic demand in sport. That is, that no matter what you do, the social and emotional connections we have to the game will always bring us back to it, no matter what an organisation does to alienate us.
Torre’s point is that this assumption is simply not true, and if you take players and fans for granted, you threaten the very lifeblood of your sport. At some point people will just turn off, drop out, and cop out. This revolution will not be televised, because people will just quietly move on.
Vlando would be wise to heed this warning. While he’s building a game for broadcasters, and perhaps if we’re being generous, attracting the nebulous ‘casual fan’, he’s alienating the people that have loved this game for decades, that make the game and the experience of rugby league great.
If he was serious about ensuring its success into an admittedly uncertain future, then he would be doing everything he could to make you and me happy because we are the people that pay his wage. We are the people who love something, and pass that on to the next generation, which doesn’t just create the next cohort of fans, but also players.
It’s a lesson that rugby league learned in the Super League wars. When rich men toy with the things we love they undermine their enterprise. That put rugby league into a 15-year organisational battle for relevance they only really started to recover from when Todd Greenberg got the game, and the finances in order (something that Vlando likes to take credit for).
Four: Cows v Sharks
Speaking of things that undermine the game. Zing!
Ok I had some pints before the Sharks/Cows game started, and was on my second negroni (sbagliato! with prosecco!) by the time the game ended, so call me clouded in my judgement.
It was hyperbole of course, but I was unimpressed with the Cows before, and during, their final. That the Sharks had such trouble dispatching a team that treated middle defence like a hungover beach-swim (unequivocally revitalising once done, but trudging into a cold ocean wondering if you’re about to puke up some ‘chum’ is something none of us do with enthusiasm).
I share no excitement for the Sharks heading to week two. But finals footy is weird, and the Roosters have been weirder lately.
The Phins beat the Wahs in New Zealand. I thought the system would overcome the brilliance, but it was the reverse. Partly that was to do with the weakness of the Wahs’ right-side edge defence. Partly that was because Herbie Farnworth is a boss.
In the other game this weekend the Bunnies were valiant despite losing Cody Walker early in the game. To be honest even with him it just seemed like the Knights had a level of nitrous they couldn’t meet. That surprised me.
The Knights Warriors is a salivating thought next week. The Warriors failed the test against Redcliffe. They’ll have a similar test again.
Five: Getting deep
Both Nathan Cleary and Daly Cherry-Evans set up shallow for field goal attempts in the dying minutes of the Riff v Roosters game. A few steps back from the ruck, one wide, almost as though they were trying to give the impression they weren’t about to go for the field goal but set up another play.
I won’t say it’s a trend or anything, but it surprised me to see both do it. They’re two of the best. Why would they set up closer to rushing defenders?
When Jamal Fogarty was at the Raiders it often felt his inability to hit these field goals was because he was also set up shallow. But with these other players also doing it it’s hard not to wonder if it’s a wider trend. I guess we’ll keep an eye on it.
Six: Reverse 1991?
If only the Raiders were good.
The Penrith Panthers won a pyrrhic victory over the Roosters. It was an impressive, big-swinging finals game. The kind you expect – two teams not perfect, but playing all-out, mostly disciplined football. Thundering body blows being withstood. Smacks to the jaw being met with a smile. Marky Mark doing insane shit. It’s no surprise many people think these two are the best two teams.
Despite the win the ‘Riff are stumbling into the preliminary final. Isaah Yeo is busted, and every single tackle he makes is a risk his chest might explode again. Paul Alamoti missed this game, and probably more after injuring himself last week. Now Nathan Cleary has hurt his foot. We don’t know how bad (other than him screaming “my foot is fucked” at the bench after kicking the match-deciding field goal).
It reminds me of 1991, when the Raiders were running on fumes getting through the finals. Stick was getting javelin-sized needles to his groin. Loz’s knee had more tape than ligaments, and Brad Clyde had only played 11 games in the regular season. It was the culmination of three years of playoffs, state of origin, Kangaroo tours, and even playing off-seasons in England, and it took its toll on the Raiders bodies. The Raiders had to win seven of their last eight just to make the finals after a slow start. By the time the game rolled around they were barely hanging on.
Maybe after all these years something similar is catching up with the Riff.
But we’ll find that out in the coming weeks. Out of week one we got mostly proper finals footy, and it was really enjoyable. If the people running the game can get out of the way, maybe we’ll get a few more weeks of sunshine before the off-season.
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