Tough sanctions for salary breach must act as wake-up call
Abuse of rules has been known about for years, but now is the time for the game to take stock
players, but at Newcastle, owner Sir John Hall and Rob Andrew ignored that. Rob said to me: “This is like the Wild West,” as he signed whichever players he fancied, recruiting Inga Tuigamala, Pat Lam, Doddie Weir, Gary Armstrong, Tony Underwood, Dean Ryan, Alan Tait, John Bentley and Jonny Wilkinson.
We did the same at Northampton, but on a much smaller scale. I brought in Gregor Townsend, Federico Mendez, Olivier Brouzet and Gary Pagel, but we had a lot of good, young English players, so were considerably more restrained. We initially paid sensible salaries – £10,000 a year for a club player, £20,000 for an experienced player, £30,000 for an international – but by 1998 wage inflation meant we were losing money.
At Saracens, though, it was like a different world. When Wray arrived he was followed by superstars Michael
Lynagh, Philippe Sella, Francois Pienaar and Kyran Bracken. Saracens immediately moved to Enfield FC’s ground, before heading off the next season to Watfords 22,000-seat Vicarage Road.
Although success initially proved elusive, Wray took a long-term view and continued to invest heavily.
By the time I left Franklin’s Gardens in 1999 to coach Scotland, more big names with big price tags – Paul Wallace, Danny Grewcock, Thierry Lacroix, Scott Murray, Dan Luger and Julian White – had arrived.
But it all came at a cost, and by 1998 English rugby was haemorrhaging money. Collectively, the top English clubs owed £20million and the RFU – which lost £10million that year – was in no position to bail them out. So in 1998 the Premiership imposed a loosely regulated £1.8million salary cap.
Yet people found ways around it. We had plenty of practice in the “shamateur” era, when David Campese boasted of being “rugby’s first millionaire” in 1991 after his spell in Italy. At home, some owners seemed to employ half their players, while half of Harlequins’ first team worked in the City for wealthy firms.
Not that I personally benefited from this new largesse.When I was coaching Scotland in 1990, we were so hard up that we survived only because Judy worked at night cleaning offices, and even then we came perilously close to losing our home. For the vast majority who observed the amateur regulations, that was our reality.
In the professional era, “shamateur” dodges were repackaged to circumvent the cap. There were image rights, employing players’ relations, providing a house for an overseas player to live in and then allowing him to keep the proceeds of the house sale when he left.
The most effective innovation I saw occurred when one owner slapped a huge bet on his club finishing in the top four at long odds, collecting a substantial six-figure sum when they finished second. His winnings were distributed as bonus payments to the players.
My experience is that most English clubs adhere to the cap, but that is not the case in France, where owners with huge egos and deep pockets take a more laissezfaire approach. That many French clubs flout the cap is an open secret. In 2014, Toulon owner Mourad Boudjellal happily explained how he exploited a loophole to pay six-figure top-up payments via a separate company.
At the onset of the pro era, Rob Andrew said to me: ‘This is like the Wild West’
However, where the penalties far outweigh the rewards and the cap is rigidly enforced, a different dynamic is at play. In America’s NFL, the penalty for violations includes fines of up to £5 million for each violation, cancellation of contracts and/or loss of draft picks, so transgressions are extremely rare.
Which brings us to Saracens. Is the 35-point penalty and the £5.36million fine fair? I would say so. The level of punishment from an independent review panel suggests a prolonged breach that perhaps goes back to 2015, when Saracens were admonished for their approach to the cap.
Adding relegation or stripping Sarries of their titles would, however, be a step too far, because the tainting of their recent titles is enough to make any side think twice now.
It is certainly a timely wake-up call that should create a more obviously level playing field. That is what is so important to the other Premiership clubs and why their reaction has been so strong. I was not surprised by the revelations about Saracens, but I was taken aback by the furious reaction of senior figures at Exeter, Worcester, Quins and Sale – evidence that this subject has festered for a long time.
I do not believe that Wray or Saracens set out to cheat, but they clearly have a different interpretation of the rules to the Premiership when it comes to these joint-venture companies, and it is not good enough to blame “administrative errors”. Saracens have been under investigation for three years and it is incredibly naive of them not to have addressed these practices in that time.
But there is a silver lining. This case will force the game to take a long, hard look at itself because no one will ever willingly endure this level of punishment again. Sale director of rugby Steve Diamond said that Saracens’ fate may save the game from bankruptcy and cleanse its soul, and he may just be right.