Why boycott icon Mourie has respect for Sonny Bill
You can question Williams’ logic over this week’s bank logo firestorm but not his sincerity.
SONNY Bill Williams is far from the first rugby player to take a stand on religious or ethical grounds.
But more than anyone else, he’s copped it. Hypocrite is the most polite word being used to describe his actions over not wanting BNZ logos on his Blues’ jersey because his Muslim faith forbids charging interest on money.
In stark contrast Michael Jones, whose Christian beliefs meant he wouldn’t play on Sundays, and Graham Mourie, who, as an All Black captain, refused to play against the 1981 Springboks, were respected for their views.
What’s the difference? For a start, communication.
Tell people what’s going on, and there’s a chance they’ll take the action in, possibly even agree. If you, in Williams’ case literally, just tape over the issue, you leave the door wide open for angry interpretations.
Speaking this week with Mourie he confirmed what he wrote in his 1982 autobiography, that there was very little backlash when, in the face of massive support inside rugby for the 1981 Springbok tour (he believed almost everyone in his club side, Opunake in Taranaki, was protour) he announced he would not play against the Boks.
He thinks that Williams, and/ or the Blues, could have avoided a lot of hostile reaction to Williams’ concealing bank advertising on his jersey if there had been ‘‘logical communication that explained what he was doing before he took any action.’’
Mourie did exactly that in November, 1980, eight months before the ‘81 tour began. There was time for people to digest his views, that the tour was wrong on moral grounds, and controversy around it would damage the game.
Michael Jones’ stand against playing on Sunday would cost him a place in the 1995 World Cup squad, where the All Blacks’ quarter-final and semi-final were both played on Sundays, but in the court of public opinion he had massive support.
He, like Mourie, would explain his stance clearly. It wasn’t, he’d say, a promise to his father before he passed away, or to his mother, or to a church pastor.
It was his call, he said, and his alone. ‘‘If I was to play a game of Sunday rugby, the game would be my whole focus, and that would be displacing the Lord as my focus for Sunday. Some coaches have asked, officially if you like, if I was available for Sunday play, but everyone has accepted my expression of my beliefs.’’
So far, so reasonable. Where things get murky is how differently people react depending on who it is taking a minority stand. Mourie returned to his role as All Black captain in 1982 with hardly a ripple. If there was discontent in the squad, he says now, it was never made apparent to him.
On the other hand, David Kirk was a four test junior in the New Zealand team when he was appointed Baby Blacks’ captain in 1986 while an unauthorised team of All Blacks, calling themselves the Cavaliers, toured South Africa. Kirk wasn’t part of the group of veteran All Blacks, the men who occupied the back seat of the team bus, and wielded enormous power. So when Kirk was invited to join the rebel Cavaliers, but chose not to, there would be a brutal postscript.
At the end of ‘86 the All Blacks, with the bulk of the squad former Cavaliers, toured France. Kirk was in the team too.
On the Sunday morning after a brutal test loss in Nantes things turned really ugly.
A big drinking session started at 10am. Before long Kirk was targeted. ‘‘Some of them found it easier to be direct with me about my part in the (Cavaliers) fiasco, and what an inadequate individual I was.’’
It was especially hard for Kirk to deal with the verbal bullying because it came from team-mates, men he’d trusted and respected. ‘‘I was surrounded. And the long and short of it was that I ended up – what’s the technical term? – sobbing in my room.’’ PHOTOSPORT
On the other hand, it was very, very hard for bigots on and off the field to stay mad at Mourie, a quietly spoken Taranaki farmer, a hugely brave player and an inspirational leader who had captained the All Blacks in 19 tests when he took his anti-tour stand.
It’s easy now for old school Kiwis to be suspicious, even hostile, about Williams.
Mourie, however, has considerable respect for him. On the NZRU board for a decade from 2003, Mourie understands the professional game, and he can see how the public can get confused at the different hats a professional player has to wear, keeping a balance between teams, contracts, family, and, in Williams’ case, religious belief.
Are there contradictions in Williams’ stand against banks, while he apparently will, if picked for the All Blacks, wear the logo of an insurance company, AIG, that also loans money? Obviously.
But not one person I’ve spoken to who has coached Williams, or played with him, has even a shadow of doubt over his sincerity. By all means question his logic. But is he cynically and selfishly applying a double standard to suit his own ends? Every bit of evidence from people in rugby who actually know him shouts ‘‘No.’’