The Lions sell out
Rugby, It used to be about nationality, now It's about money
It used to be about nationality, now it’s about money
Steve Hansen has just accepted a $20 million offer to coach the British and Irish Lions against the All Blacks in 2017.
Hansen said, ‘‘It’s not the money. Ever since I was a small boy learning to ride a horse in Mosgiel, I dreamed of coaching the Lions. They have such a proud history of Kiwi coaches. I followed Sir Graham Henry into the All Blacks hot seat, so why not into the Lions? And it’s not often you have a chance to coach against yourself, is it? I’m looking forward to the challenge.’’
OK, so it’s a spoof, but it’s every bit as likely as Helen Clark becoming head of the United Nations.
The Lions are a sell-out. The moment in 2000 when Lions chairman Syd Millar decided to ignore Grannygate and the shame of passing off Kiwis as Welshmen was the moment when the Lions bartered away their soul.
Graham Henry took the All Blacks to a shiny World Cup, but his appointment as coach of the Lions started them on the road to perdition.
When John Spencer, the current Lions chairman who toured in 1971, said that nationality was irrelevant as long as the new coach got the concept of the Lions, you knew that the game was up.
The whole concept of the Lions is nationality. It is about bringing four nations together, countries that have often warred against each other, and making them stronger as one. You look at the English, Welsh, Scottish and Irish fans drinking together and laughing together, and you think that maybe humanity has got a chance, after all.
Win or lose, the Lions are part of a glorious tradition of taking part, of togetherness, of friendship. Even in the darkest hours, someone always had a joke to tell and four countries laughed together.
But now many of my friends are not sure if they are going to bother to come out this time. Why, they want to know, should the Lions be a coaching school for men with ambitions to lead the All Blacks?
They think it is a joke that Gatland is leading the Lions to a country where has has spent most of his life and which he still regards as home. Imagine Clive Woodward coaching the All Blacks against the Lions in Henley. Yes, it is that absurd.
What was wrong with Conor O’Shea, now the coach of Italy. Carwyn James had never led his country when he took the Lions to New Zealand in ‘71.
O’Shea said at the end of last season that it was ‘‘the right time to take on a new challenge.’’ What better challenge could there have been? O’Shea represented a chance to reclaim the British and Irish Lions and that chance was squandered for the filthy expediency of professionalism.
NZ Rugby must be chuckling into their cold, gassy beer at the thought of Britain giving New Zealand’s top coaches the ultimate finishing school.
Well make the most of it, guys, because this might be the last time that the Lions come to New Zealand. Is anyone out there convinced that a plane will touch down in 2028 and 37 young men will look out of the window at the chance of a lifetime?
This tour is a cash cow for the NZ Rugby, never mind all the effluent that might run off into the rugby rivers of the world. They are going to squeeze every last drop of milk out of it. I believe the reason that the Lions have been given such an absurd schedule is because the NZ Rugby wants to fill its stadia and maximise its sponsorship revenue.
Steve Tew said, ‘‘We’ll be working hard to balance our revenue objectives.’’
Let’s not worry about the damage we might not be doing to the game in 10 years’ time, it appears to be all about revenue objectives. Let’s not worry if we break half the Lions players and send them back to their furious clubs unable to play for six months. Let’s not worry if New Zealand becomes a rugby slaughterhouse.
So long as we can pay our shortterm bills, who cares about the world we’re leaving our kids. Isn’t that how modern government works?
And the Lions are just as complicit in this nonsense. They’ve even sold the shirt off their back. They could have asked Cotton Traders to make and market the shirts, a company started in a small room next to Altrincham railway station by Fran Cotton, a former Lion.
Instead the Lions have given the contract to Canterbury, originally a New Zealand company. Chris Stephenson, the CEO, says his company are ‘‘committed to creating the best shirt the Lions have ever worn.’’
Oh please. Canterbury is committed to making the largest profit it can, and if that means slightly inferior material at an inflated price, then that is what the punter will get. The company may now be based in Stockport in the UK, but it is still a Kiwi brand.
I am starting to think you could say the same about the Lions. When I was an 11-year-old my father, a rugby journalist, took the family with him on the Lions tour of South Africa. My younger brother had recently died. The Lions didn’t heal us, but they helped. It was a world of wonder.
They made as laugh at the absurd drinking games of ‘thumper’ as a real lion invaded the Kruger Park camp and made as marvel at some of the football that Phil and the boys played.
And for just a few weeks next year we will forget that the Lions are coached by a man from Hamilton and captained by a kid from Rotorua. We may even find a little of the old wonder. But it won’t be the same.
The Lions have become just another global brand trying to turn a fast buck.