Australian sheriff’s posse rides into town

There was little doubt that the Popular Elder Member of the usual gathering had provided the catalyst by bringing with him an invasion force liberally sprinkled with a fair number of people of the Australian persuasion.

Personable as the trio from Down Under proved to be – they were promptly dubbed the High Sheriff and the two Deputy Sheriffs – it was not long before the Arithmetically-challenged Golfer, a man used to making his often biased opinion hold sway on the subject of virtually every sport.

It is a situation that has been accepted by the assembly as a payment for past sins, though it can safely be said that the retention factor afforded the Arithmetically-challenged One does not have the ring of holy writ about it.

It was, as expected, the game of rugby in its many and varied guises that the so-called local sports expert with the Aussie posse, a force armed with an intimate acquaintance with the laws of the game which often tend to cloud the vision of ordinary spectators and fans when the whistle sounds or a card is flourished.

It didn’t have a start that in any way could be termed diplomatic. “The Wallabies look to be going through something of a rebuilding process,” he said for openers. The High Sheriff smiled gently at this. “The Springboks are not exactly world-beaters themselves right now,” he countered with an understated accuracy.

The response was as ill-considered as it was immediate. “It’s the referees,” was the first thing that seemed to come to his mind.

At this point it should be explained – though the Arithmetically-challenged One seemed blissfully unaware of the fact – that the High Sheriff had among his credentials, a reputation of some standing among those who run the rule over the game in the middle.

“Referees?” he said with a degree of incredulity, though keeping the smile firmly on his face, a portent that he knew this discussion might have been headed blissfully south, but that the self-appointed expert had marooned himself on a desert island of his own making.

“Firstly,” said the High Sheriff, “we all have to accept that referees are only human and can get it wrong as anyone in the split-second they have to make a decision. The laws of the game call for the ref to ensure the match is played as safely as possible.

“This is the reason the authorities have clamped down hard on spear tackles, high tackles and tackles without the arms. It’s potentially dangerous and player safety is the most important thing. I’m sure you must agree on that.”

Grudgingly the Arithmetically-challenged One conceded the point. “But the refs seem to have little understanding of what goes on in the front row. Why would a prop purposely collapse a scrum on his side’s put-in?”

The High Sheriff’s grin broadened. “There are a number of reasons,” he replied. “It could be that they are looking for a penalty to relieve the pressure. And have you considered that it doesn’t have to be a prop who collapses the set-piece? It can be anyone in the scrum.”

Again, the Arithmetically-challenged One paused. “Well, yes,” he said. “But what about the French refs? I feel they should be euthanised as soon as they show an interest in the whistle.”

The High Sheriff’s grin grew even broader. “In real terms,” he said, “the French are among the better referees. They tend to blow everything consistently.”

Then he added the rider which stumped the Arithmetically-challenged One. “Anyway,” he said, “referees often bring a little unpredictabilty to the game. And isn’t that what makes rugby exciting?”