I feel we are losing something from the game of rugby league. It's not about the punching or the shoulder charge. No one goes out onto the field to intentionally do these things. It just happens. There's no point me trying to explain it, so I won't.
No, I'm referring more to what the professional game is meant to be. Everyone keeps telling us what they don't want in the game. Well, what do you want the game to look like? I'm not so sure our leaders can answer this question.
I'm 55 years old. I've seen a lot of life. I've played, coached and watched a lot of football. I have three kids. I'm not a violent individual.
My dad was my role model. He didn't mind a beer and a gamble; he taught me both. He didn't like fighting but taught me how to defend myself anyway. He also taught me to catch, kick, pass, tackle, bat, bowl, sink a putt, catch a fish, mow the lawn and drive a car. He still clips me behind the ear if I swear in front of my mother.
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My heroes growing up were Graeme Langlands and John Raper. But they were never my role models. I've never needed another role model in my life while I had my dad.
Dad took me to my first game of football. I was hooked immediately. The colours, the smell, the speed, the brutality, the atmosphere; to hear the crowd rise to a crescendo as a try was being scored. The noise ran right through me. It was overwhelming. I wanted to be a footballer.
I remember watching John Sattler playing through a grand final with a broken jaw - a story glorified in the media for decades since. For some reason I wanted to know if I could do something like that; I can't explain why I had that feeling.
I played with John Farragher the day he broke his neck in a scrum collapse. He never walked again. What a great and inspirational man. Every day I see him working at Panthers. I can't imagine what goes through his mind. It was a terrible day. But we played again the following week, and we've been playing ever since. John will tell you even today that if he could be 21 years old again for one hour, he would spend the whole hour playing rugby league. How do I explain that? And even if I could, I wouldn't expect everyone to understand it. But that's just how we are wired.
So what's this column about? Well, I don't really know.
I do know there's no point in writing a story saying there's nothing wrong with a few punches being thrown on a football field in the heat of battle - even if that's exactly the way I feel. I could tell you that players are the last ones complaining about shoulder charges or the risk of injury but people won't let you get away with such comments these days. You cannot win an argument with those who sensationalise, exaggerate and take the moral high ground. Our world these days is becoming so paralysed with political correctness it makes me sick.
I'm tired of people who never played the game campaigning to change the game. It irks me that media types constantly wave the do-gooder's flag to earn themselves a profile, rather than offer anything constructive to the game. The hysteria that follows certain incidents in our game is mind-boggling. I loathe the faceless keyboard warriors who rage away on social media criticising, slandering and denigrating players. I've had a gutful of football administrators who have zero experience playing our game allowing people from outside the game to influence decisions made on important issues.
I'm frustrated. I started first-grade football in the 1970s. I don't know what it was like before this but it was a violent game when I began. Every time you ran the ball you were belted, punched, kneed, stood on or gouged. You didn't come off the field when injured and certainly not because were bleeding. If you were knocked out, they splashed you with the watery sponge and back into the action you went. If you couldn't handle it, you were sorted out pretty quickly.
Not for one minute am I suggesting this is how the game should be today; far from it. The game is much cleaner today and better for it. I'm simply describing my experiences.
Mum didn't want me to play football. She refused to watch because she couldn't handle the injuries. But could Mum ever stop me from playing? Not a chance. These days Mum watches every game of rugby league on TV. Go figure.
Three times during my playing career doctors told me I should never play again due to the seriousness of injuries I had sustained. I ignored the doctors. I understood the risks and played anyway.
Why? Well, it wasn't because I was brave. To be honest, it was probably more because I was scared. I didn't want to give in to that fear. I didn't want it to beat me. I can't adequately explain or justify why I felt that way.
I didn't like fighting, but sometimes I had to fight. In those days, if they belted you and you didn't hit back, they'd keep on belting you. You had to stand your ground.
As I describe this world of rugby league back then, some of you will be shaking your heads in disgust. Again, I'm not condoning what went on, nor am I recommending this is how it should always be. I'm simply describing my experiences. And if I could live it all over again, I would.
But before you go slamming rugby league as being a poor role model for kids, what about your parental guidance? What about parents taking responsibility for the education of their own kids, instead of demanding rugby league set the standard for socially acceptable behaviour? If the school principal doesn't like what he sees on TV, then tell the students why you won't tolerate it in your school. What makes you think the game of rugby league should have to pull in its horns to educate your students? And why do our game's leaders so meekly give in to these complaints?
Are you also complaining to the sports of boxing, martial arts, UFC, sky-diving, skate-boarding and BMX bikes? What about car and motor bike racing? Doesn't speed kill? What about blokes who climb cliff-faces or buildings without ropes or harnesses? You want your kids trying these stunts? Are you banning your kids from playing violent video war games, or watching sexually explicit music videos? Or do we simply save our political correctness for the football codes because you're guaranteed to get your complaint on the evening news?
People roll out the arguments that a punch or shoulder-charge could cause severe damage or even kill. Yes, we know all that. Every tackle in our game can result in serious injury. If you tried to do what we do, you would get seriously hurt every time. Head clashes and other accidents cause terrible injuries. But we choose to play anyway. If we were to remove all injury risk from the game of rugby league, there would be no game at all. Is that what you want?
I don't like fighting. I don't like violence. But if I play the game, I know it's something I may have to deal with from time to time, in the heat of the moment, as aggressive men go about the business of winning.
There is recreational football for those who don't like the physicality of tackle football. Junior rugby league is as safe as any junior sport on offer. The statistics bear out this fact, year after year. Play Safe regulations protect your kids from the kind of football we see in the professional codes.
Our footballers are constantly in schools, hospitals and charity organisations, interacting with kids. They have a community spirit. They tell kids right from wrong and deliver these positive messages every day. It's just that on game day, they play a physical, combative sport that deals with intimidation, aggression and physical pain. They are paid to win, because people who lose get publicly criticised and quickly get replaced.
Please don't compare junior league football with the win-at-all-costs professional sport you see on our TV screens. If you don't like some of the stuff you see, tell your kids why it's not right for them to do the same. If they behave badly on the football field, discipline and educate them. That's your responsibility.
**As one football administrator wrote to me this week: "Rugby league is in the collision business. The NRL appears to be in the politically correct and player-safety business.** So the conundrum for the NRL is how to make decisions which are in the best interest of player safety without changing the game. Over the past few years we have witnessed the threatening clouds of change to a perfect model. How can anyone think that sanitising a product built on all-out aggression will improve the appeal? This is poor analysis. The changes seem to have followed the principle that if it isn't broken, we need to fix it until it is broken".
As your children make their way through life, they will face greater dangers, greater challenges, greater setbacks, greater disappointment and greater temptation than they will ever experience or witness on a football field. I'm sorry, but no matter how sterile we make the football field environment to soothe your concerns, we cannot make the rest of the world a safer place for little Johnny.
I don't know where we draw the line. I just fear that the rugby league game our administrators are leading us towards could become a game that eventually loses its appeal. If that makes me a terrible person, well, so be it.
There - I said it.
Read more: http://www.smh.com.au/rugby-league/league-news/eliminate-risk-and-it-will-be-game-over-20130713-2pwsm.html#ixzz2Yy1tzibN
No, I'm referring more to what the professional game is meant to be. Everyone keeps telling us what they don't want in the game. Well, what do you want the game to look like? I'm not so sure our leaders can answer this question.
I'm 55 years old. I've seen a lot of life. I've played, coached and watched a lot of football. I have three kids. I'm not a violent individual.
My dad was my role model. He didn't mind a beer and a gamble; he taught me both. He didn't like fighting but taught me how to defend myself anyway. He also taught me to catch, kick, pass, tackle, bat, bowl, sink a putt, catch a fish, mow the lawn and drive a car. He still clips me behind the ear if I swear in front of my mother.
Advertisement
My heroes growing up were Graeme Langlands and John Raper. But they were never my role models. I've never needed another role model in my life while I had my dad.
Dad took me to my first game of football. I was hooked immediately. The colours, the smell, the speed, the brutality, the atmosphere; to hear the crowd rise to a crescendo as a try was being scored. The noise ran right through me. It was overwhelming. I wanted to be a footballer.
I remember watching John Sattler playing through a grand final with a broken jaw - a story glorified in the media for decades since. For some reason I wanted to know if I could do something like that; I can't explain why I had that feeling.
I played with John Farragher the day he broke his neck in a scrum collapse. He never walked again. What a great and inspirational man. Every day I see him working at Panthers. I can't imagine what goes through his mind. It was a terrible day. But we played again the following week, and we've been playing ever since. John will tell you even today that if he could be 21 years old again for one hour, he would spend the whole hour playing rugby league. How do I explain that? And even if I could, I wouldn't expect everyone to understand it. But that's just how we are wired.
So what's this column about? Well, I don't really know.
I do know there's no point in writing a story saying there's nothing wrong with a few punches being thrown on a football field in the heat of battle - even if that's exactly the way I feel. I could tell you that players are the last ones complaining about shoulder charges or the risk of injury but people won't let you get away with such comments these days. You cannot win an argument with those who sensationalise, exaggerate and take the moral high ground. Our world these days is becoming so paralysed with political correctness it makes me sick.
I'm tired of people who never played the game campaigning to change the game. It irks me that media types constantly wave the do-gooder's flag to earn themselves a profile, rather than offer anything constructive to the game. The hysteria that follows certain incidents in our game is mind-boggling. I loathe the faceless keyboard warriors who rage away on social media criticising, slandering and denigrating players. I've had a gutful of football administrators who have zero experience playing our game allowing people from outside the game to influence decisions made on important issues.
I'm frustrated. I started first-grade football in the 1970s. I don't know what it was like before this but it was a violent game when I began. Every time you ran the ball you were belted, punched, kneed, stood on or gouged. You didn't come off the field when injured and certainly not because were bleeding. If you were knocked out, they splashed you with the watery sponge and back into the action you went. If you couldn't handle it, you were sorted out pretty quickly.
Not for one minute am I suggesting this is how the game should be today; far from it. The game is much cleaner today and better for it. I'm simply describing my experiences.
Mum didn't want me to play football. She refused to watch because she couldn't handle the injuries. But could Mum ever stop me from playing? Not a chance. These days Mum watches every game of rugby league on TV. Go figure.
Three times during my playing career doctors told me I should never play again due to the seriousness of injuries I had sustained. I ignored the doctors. I understood the risks and played anyway.
Why? Well, it wasn't because I was brave. To be honest, it was probably more because I was scared. I didn't want to give in to that fear. I didn't want it to beat me. I can't adequately explain or justify why I felt that way.
I didn't like fighting, but sometimes I had to fight. In those days, if they belted you and you didn't hit back, they'd keep on belting you. You had to stand your ground.
As I describe this world of rugby league back then, some of you will be shaking your heads in disgust. Again, I'm not condoning what went on, nor am I recommending this is how it should always be. I'm simply describing my experiences. And if I could live it all over again, I would.
But before you go slamming rugby league as being a poor role model for kids, what about your parental guidance? What about parents taking responsibility for the education of their own kids, instead of demanding rugby league set the standard for socially acceptable behaviour? If the school principal doesn't like what he sees on TV, then tell the students why you won't tolerate it in your school. What makes you think the game of rugby league should have to pull in its horns to educate your students? And why do our game's leaders so meekly give in to these complaints?
Are you also complaining to the sports of boxing, martial arts, UFC, sky-diving, skate-boarding and BMX bikes? What about car and motor bike racing? Doesn't speed kill? What about blokes who climb cliff-faces or buildings without ropes or harnesses? You want your kids trying these stunts? Are you banning your kids from playing violent video war games, or watching sexually explicit music videos? Or do we simply save our political correctness for the football codes because you're guaranteed to get your complaint on the evening news?
People roll out the arguments that a punch or shoulder-charge could cause severe damage or even kill. Yes, we know all that. Every tackle in our game can result in serious injury. If you tried to do what we do, you would get seriously hurt every time. Head clashes and other accidents cause terrible injuries. But we choose to play anyway. If we were to remove all injury risk from the game of rugby league, there would be no game at all. Is that what you want?
I don't like fighting. I don't like violence. But if I play the game, I know it's something I may have to deal with from time to time, in the heat of the moment, as aggressive men go about the business of winning.
There is recreational football for those who don't like the physicality of tackle football. Junior rugby league is as safe as any junior sport on offer. The statistics bear out this fact, year after year. Play Safe regulations protect your kids from the kind of football we see in the professional codes.
Our footballers are constantly in schools, hospitals and charity organisations, interacting with kids. They have a community spirit. They tell kids right from wrong and deliver these positive messages every day. It's just that on game day, they play a physical, combative sport that deals with intimidation, aggression and physical pain. They are paid to win, because people who lose get publicly criticised and quickly get replaced.
Please don't compare junior league football with the win-at-all-costs professional sport you see on our TV screens. If you don't like some of the stuff you see, tell your kids why it's not right for them to do the same. If they behave badly on the football field, discipline and educate them. That's your responsibility.
**As one football administrator wrote to me this week: "Rugby league is in the collision business. The NRL appears to be in the politically correct and player-safety business.** So the conundrum for the NRL is how to make decisions which are in the best interest of player safety without changing the game. Over the past few years we have witnessed the threatening clouds of change to a perfect model. How can anyone think that sanitising a product built on all-out aggression will improve the appeal? This is poor analysis. The changes seem to have followed the principle that if it isn't broken, we need to fix it until it is broken".
As your children make their way through life, they will face greater dangers, greater challenges, greater setbacks, greater disappointment and greater temptation than they will ever experience or witness on a football field. I'm sorry, but no matter how sterile we make the football field environment to soothe your concerns, we cannot make the rest of the world a safer place for little Johnny.
I don't know where we draw the line. I just fear that the rugby league game our administrators are leading us towards could become a game that eventually loses its appeal. If that makes me a terrible person, well, so be it.
There - I said it.
Read more: http://www.smh.com.au/rugby-league/league-news/eliminate-risk-and-it-will-be-game-over-20130713-2pwsm.html#ixzz2Yy1tzibN
