Why a bouncing ball can mesmerise even the meanest of Premiership defences
Regimented rearguards increasingly seem to become disorientated by a spilled pass
What is it about a bouncing ball that spells disaster for defences? I have been around rugby teams for years and it is a fact of life that the ball on the turf can undo even the best defensive sides and lead to a line-break or a try. It is called the “bad pass-good pass” as it serves to mesmerise the opposition, and in the past couple of weeks we have seen some brilliant examples of how bad passes can make the difference in the tightest of games.
In round one of the Gallagher Premiership, Worcester benefited against Wasps, who were defending aggressively in their own 22 and forced a mistake, with a Worcester pass under pressure failing to go to hand. It meant that Sam Lewis, the Worcester No7, had to race back 10 yards to collect, with Elliot Daly on his tail.
When he got there, Lewis was able to evade Daly and then saw the space open up in front of him, sprinting 20 metres untouched before crashing over as Rob Miller tried to make a covering tackle.
Wasps, who previously would not allow a herd of stampeding buffalo through their line, had let a lone wolf run in from distance without getting touched. Why? Because bouncing balls hypnotise you into doing nothing in defence, as Joe Marchant, of Quins, and Joe Launchbury, of Wasps, can attest after they scored, with defences momentarily discombobulated by a bouncing ball.
Worcester were on the receiving end in round two. Under pressure, Sale forced a pass as Worcester pressed from the inside and the ball ended up on the floor.
Duncan Weir, Worcester’s outside defender, abandoned his place in the line and raced to the ball – inadvertently creating a dog-leg. AJ Macginty picked up the ball and attacked the space between Weir and the inside defenders, before releasing Bryn Evans and Mark Jennings. Suddenly, Sale were in behind. The ball was recycled. Macginty, at first receiver, flicked the ball on and the ball was on the floor again, five yards from the try-line. This time, Chris Pennell hesitated, aware of the dangers of a loose ball, but Sale wing Marland Yarde trapped the pill like a footballer, controlled the space, and popped to Josh Beaumont for a try.
Two bouncing balls lead to two different reactions by two Worcester players, in two separate incidents, in the space of 15 seconds – and the net result is a try.
So, what is the reason for this sudden mental shutdown by defences? A large part is due to the monotony of being in defence, where in training you are conditioned by the sergeant major-style defensive coach who has you getting up off the floor quickly, repositioning in the defensive line, organising your spacings, making your tackles and then repeating the process.
On two occasions in the Sale-worcester game, we got to 38-phase passages of play. That is a lot of getting up and filling in, and it becomes robotic to some degree. Then suddenly the ball is bouncing around on the floor and the spell is broken. In a moment, the opposition do not have the
Players stay focused when in defence but, if the ball hits the deck, it turns to chaos
ball in their hands, it is “fair game” and a sudden disconnect takes place both physically and mentally.
Rugby is much easier when you have the ball and the opposition do not, so we are programmed to “go get it” – especially if it is bouncing in your vicinity. But these tend to be the players on the outside, the ones who rush in and try to stick their hands in the cookie jar.
The players on the inside, away from the ball, tend to have a different view. They want to keep the line, to maintain pressure. Because of this clash of views, which happens in a second, the bouncing ball is still one of the hardest things to defend in rugby.
When all goes to plan, set-plays are organised in attack and systems to defend are put in place. That is fine as long as the ball stays in the hand. Players stay focused and keep their integrity in defence but, when the ball hits the deck, it immediately turns into chaos.
As a defender, you hunt it down if you are closest to the ball and, in leaving the line, the defenders around scan to see what else is happening. Some join the hunt for the ball, others wait and see what happens, and in that moment, you understand why so many tries are conceded to bouncing balls.
That disconnect leads to individual reactions rather than a smoothly operating team.
As we move towards an increasing number of “faux-grass” pitches, or those that are real are now like billiard tables, the chance of rugby balls hitting the turf and staying in play is going to increase.
The bouncing ball is here to stay. How teams react will be the difference between it being a momentary spill, or a gamechanging event.