Dwindling crowds and a lack of interest are killing the Mitre 10 Cup. So what can done to save it?
Provincial rugby is Played in cavernous stadiums with a Corporate backdrop and as a result fans are nowhere to be seen and interest is dwindling. steve hale has a Plan on how the lifeblood of the game can be fixed.
Since its 1976 inception the National Provincial Championship captured hearts and minds of a diehard New Zealand rugby fraternity.
Allegiances formed through provincial boundaries and club loyalties created a blood and bone type fervour, intense border rivalries, grudge matches and a level of rugby that fuelled Al Blacks success.
Throughout the ensuing 42 seasons, this iconic competition has undergone various structural changes to its present Mitre 10 Cup format.
The 2018 provincial season certainly delivered, producing a memorable highlight reel with Auckland bouncing back to topple Canterbury in extra time and the Ranfurly Shield moving from New Plymouth to Hamilton and finally Dunedin.
Waikato finally regained their mojo and perennial basement dwellers Thames Valley, against all odds, lifted the Meads Cup for the first time.
Quality of rugby alone can’t paper over some of the cracks appearing in the retaining walls of our provincial game, though.
The problems are all too well documented, unions having to manage spiralling operating costs marred by dire gate takings.
The effect that scheduling evening kick-offs for the associated TV sponsorship money has had on attendance figures at stadia cannot be ignored.
Long gone are the days when a crowd of 40,286 jammed into the ‘Brook’ to watch Otago play Waikato (1998) or 51,000 barrack for Canterbury against Auckland at Lancaster Park (1985).
Paltry Mitre 10 Cup crowd numbers make it increasingly difficult for leading provincial unions to justify opening their stadium on match days.
While the Auckland Rugby Union should be commended for providing free admission to the afternoon 2018 Premiership final at Eden Park, it doesn’t bear pondering how empty the terraces would have been if paying fans were expected to attend a match kicking off at 7:30pm.
The creation of razzle dazzle Super Rugby, undoubtedly the higher rung in New Zealand’s ladder, has become an unwelcome predator to our representative game.
As a result, our provincial unions have taken a massive body blow, belts have been tightened while the newly designated window and revised format have caused a reduction in the competition’s marketability. Thursday
night rugby for example does not excite the work-weary paying punter.
Enough of my negativity, the purpose of this article is not to have another whinge.
While I am neither a Harvard graduate economist, nor privy to discussions held in the NZ Rugby boardroom, I believe there are solutions to invigorate our provincial game and that the answers lie in our past.
Go small. Return the ‘NPC’ to its roots. Nothing stirs the Kiwi soul more than a sausage sizzle, a beer tent and a bouncy castle.
Standing in your gummies on the touchline while wearing a swanny... Kiwi as bro.
Nothing beats the unbridled joy of watching a Heartland Championship game from the deck of a mud-caked Toyota Hilux at Whakarua Park in Ruatoria.
Mass haka, horseback pitch invasions, the Coast never fails to deliver. No fun police on duty...just a grand day out.
For rugby to re-establish itself, we should consider what worked for us in the past. The Chardonnay swillers might scoff at my suggestions, but just hear me out for a second. After all, our cavernous modern stadiums are mostly empty nowadays.
While Waikato Stadium is a fantastic venue, (I have been watching footy there since 1986, back when it was Rugby Park) the venue is no longer fit for purpose.
A 25,000 capacity stadia hosting games for paltry walk-up crowds of less than 5,000 is completely impractical, just a means to leak hard-earned sponsorship dollars.
One option would be for Mitre 10 Cup unions to redevelop centrally located club grounds. Reduced capacities at ‘boutique’ stadia may well create a renewed following for provincial footy, which can be marketed as one-off events, a unique atmosphere at each ground increasing supply and demand for ticket sales.
One small refurbished grandstand will suffice with three grass banks and an abundance of car parking on adjacent playing fields.
Bring back the men in white coats who stood on the gate to collect your shrapnel while directing you to your parking spot.
Get Mr Whippy on board, coffee carts and spit roasts. Let’s make rugby fun (and sustainable again).
Corporate sponsors would be able to erect tents to host their clients on game-day as would every province’s club side.
Last season Thames Valley played all its home matches at Boyd Park, in my home town of Te Aroha.
Afternoon kick-offs under a blazing sun with multiple curtain raisers taking place on surrounding pitches and ample parking, saw crowds (including dogs on leashes) flock in and enjoy some highly enjoyable rugby experiences.
Sausage sizzles, a beer tent and Roy Steed’s ice cream caravan kept bellies full. Nippers were allowed (and encouraged) to play pick-up games of bull rush and tackle footy behind the sticks while the Swamp Foxes toiled away.
Even though the Valley lost two of their home games last year, everyone I talked to went home happy.
Catching up with old mates is always a most enjoyable by-product of attending any club or provincial game. It provides a great excuse to reconnect with friends and partake in some hardy banter.
We need to start enjoying each occasion that rugby provides not be overly hung up about results.
Every game provides an opportunity to get outside, have some fun in the sun and enjoy a bloody good day out. Kiwis can be a sombre bunch in over analysing a game that is supposed to be fun.
In the Waikato, a venue such as Memorial Park in Cambridge ( home ground of the Hautapu club) springs to mind as an ideal alternative Mitre 10 Cup venue.
Waikato actually played an afternoon Ranfurly Shield match (televised live) against Wanganui on Memorial Park in 2016.
The Mooloo Men also defended the Log of Wood in Matamata and Paeroa that season. Those matches were televised as well.
Set a stone’s throw away from the new SH1 bypass, Memorial Park in Cambridge is a more central location for the Waikato province than their current stadium in the centre of Hamilton.
While some may query the naivety of a union relocating from their urban base the financial benefits must be considered along with the potential to increase rural match day support for the team.
Traditional rugby strongholds Tokoroa, Matamata and Otorohanga are all located within a 45-minute drive of Memorial Park, while Hamilton is a mere 15 minutes down SH1.
While I agree, leaving a fullyequipped modern stadium does sound like the unhinged ravings of a lunatic, it has been done before.
In 1999 the South Sydney Rabbitohs reduced the capacity of their home ground Redfern Oval, from 20,000 to 5,000 adding a skateboard bowl, basketball hoops and rock-climbing poles to its inner-city base.
The Redfern perimeter fencing is left wide open during the week allowing the public access to the facility free of charge.
Whenever the Rabbitohs junior sides play at Redfern, food and beer trucks are parked up adjacent to the the playing arena, while multiple black steel gates are locked shut, allowing the paying public access to the venue through designated entrances.
I believe Redfern Oval is the prototype venue for Mitre 10 Cup rugby. One concrete grandstand and three low tiered green banks surround the playing surface, perimeter fencing, a designated space for corporates, a café open to the public seven days a week, low operating costs and various forms of public transport located within a short walk.
While night time kick-offs are currently a prerequisite, they may not always be part of our rugby landscape.
And although Sky has invested significant time, not to mention kilometres of cabling infrastructure developing all the major stadia into
broadcasting hubs…they still cover Heartland Championship matches every week using skeleton staff.
Mitre 10 Cup coverage could easily follow suit by cutting back on production crews and commentary teams calling matches from urban studios to eliminate travel costs.
The final elephant in the room is player payment, should our players be paid to play Mitre 10 Cup?
How can our provinces afford to pay the players not to mention a sizeable contingent of backroom and officebased staff?
I was lucky to spend time in Canada staying with a hockey-mad family, the father of our host had coached at both NHL and Olympic level.
Hockey is to Canadians what rugby is to New Zealanders. I started taking an interest in the Toronto Maple Leafs (NHL) while attending a few OHL fixtures.
Basically, the OHL (Ontario Hockey League), is a feeder comp to the NHL, much like Mitre 10 Cup is to our five Super franchises and although OHL teams may play a whopping 60-game season, their players are not paid for the privilege of donning their home town colours.
This had me scratching my head. If a country like Canada with its population of 37 million doesn’t reimburse their athletes below NHL level, how can 14 NZ provincial sides be expected to meet a $1.2m salary cap for a competition that comprises of just 10 regular season fixtures?
Imagine if the Mitre 10 Cup essentially turned amateur, players who worked full-time would be reimbursed for loss of earnings, with all other squad members being enrolled in tertiary education or the opportunity to commence a trade or qualification of some type.
There would still be enough left in the pot for the match day squad to receive a weekly match fee without emptying the coffers.
Creating an environment where local players want to represent their home provinces while attaining post rugby career qualifications which set them up for life, seems a pretty-rewarding and sustainable outcome to me.
The inception of Super Rugby in 1996, irrevocably reduced the status of the NPC, adding a higher rung in the player pathway.
The cream still rises to the top, but our provincial game needs future proofing. With increased private ownership models being mooted why can’t our franchises be responsible for player retention with our provincial game reuniting by finding ways to become more accessible with their respective local rugby communities?
I often wonder what the worst-case scenario would be, if our top All Blacks were to fly the coup en masse.
Just where would that leave our national game? Our model would be forced to change, maybe this wouldn’t be such a bad outcome.
I would like to think the NPC would still be alive and kicking, albeit in a more earthy, homespun capacity. I envisage passionate rugby people barracking for their home teams, crowding the sidelines, kitted out in their favourite pairs of gummies while wolfing down a mussel fritter or wild pork sandwich.
Quintessential Aotearoa at its finest. Sounds like some sort of rugby utopia to me.