Why it’s time to panic about the All Blacks

After a strangely directionless performance against the Springboks a fortnight ago, this column went to great lengths — about 1000 words actually — to make a case that it wasn’t the time to panic.

A fortnight and 80 frenetic, directionless minutes later, it would be smart to try to pass off that column as the opening gambit of a pointcounterpoint argument.

Okay, so you’re not that gullible . . . but hey, maybe it is time to fret.

Maybe behind the laconic drawl and cereal-box philosophy, Steve Hansen has been quietly anxious since last year, when the All Blacks dragged themselves listlessly around Europe.

We’re told by many to hold back on the panic pills until after this weekend, when the All Blacks defend their honour within the ramparts of Fortress Eden Park. That would be a mistake. If anything, the All Blacks’ dominance at their favourite ground makes the impending result the least reliable guide of form.

In every single World Cup year bar 1987, the All Blacks have beaten the Wallabies at Eden Park. It’s a Clayton’s statistic — the win when you’re not necessarily having a win.

(If you’re of the squeamish variety, you’d also note that the All Blacks beat France at Eden Park in 2007; quite convincingly, too.)

World Cup years are different, no doubt, but it has to be a concern that the last rich All Blacks performance against genuine tier one opposition occurred 10 months ago when they defeated Australia 37-20 in Yokohama.

Since that October junket, they’ve used up a year’s worth of luck to squeeze past England, stumbled at the feet of Ireland, scraped home against Argentina, drawn with the Boks and put on a horror show against the Wallabies.

So even if the All Blacks win on Saturday, don’t take it as a sign to stop panicking, particularly if you see or hear any of the following.

Airbrushing of the BarrettMo’unga ‘combination’ Individually, neither has been close to the top of the All Blacks poor-form charts.

Taken together, they might just represent the epitome of frazzled thinking.

Two tests is a small sample size but there has been precious little evidence that this twin-pivot plan has legs.

There hasn’t been a better rugby player in the world over the past four years than Barrett. He’s played the vast majority of his best rugby at first-five.

Why change?

If it is to accommodate another gifted player who just happens to be a 10, have we not been down this route many times before? Has it not always ended in ignominy?

If it is to accommodate a more reliable goalkicker, this is awfully, awfully late in the piece to realise what we’ve all known for years — that Barrett is a genius everywhere except off the tee.

Sometimes good players miss out because better players are after the same jersey.

The greatest fullback to have strapped on Mizunos, Christian Cullen never started a match at

No 15 at a Rugby World Cup.

Some of that was due to timing — he arrived a year after a World Cup (1996) and was dropped a year before one (2002) — but it was also due to the All Blacks out-thinking themselves.

Barrett has started just one match at No 10 at a World Cup, a laugher against Namibia. There has been a very good reason for that —

Dan Carter.

There is not such a good reason this time.

More punchless wing play Someone has stolen Rieko Ioane, yet he’s not the most ineffective wing in the line-up at the moment.

Post-injury Ben Smith is doing a poor job of mimicking pre-injury Ben Smith at the moment.

The clock is ticking.

The dink kick

Australia found space all over Perth on the weekend, even before Scott Barrett fell afoul of Monsieur Garces.

With limited possession, the All Blacks response too often was to put a dink kick in behind the Wallabies frontline defence.

Has this tactic ever paid its own way? For every kick-and-regather, it seems the All Blacks give away possession cheaply five times over.

I’m no John Forbes Nash jnr but it feels well past time to abandon this roulette-wheel strategy.

Plodding props

The Australian front rowers looked hungry and dynamic. Owen Franks and Joe Moody just looked tired and hungry.

Only a fool would rule out the All Blacks’ chances of winning in Japan. They have the talent and they know how to win big tournaments.

But you’d be an even bigger fool to pass off a year of largely plodding performances as a blip.

The simple fact is that too many players are in poor form and there still seems to be uncertainty around who will be stationed at key positions on the field.

Over several years of excellence, this All Blacks team has earned a little extra length on the runway and this might be Hansen’s last great landing before he gives up his spot in the control tower.

Or it might be exactly what it looks like: a team that has lost its way and is braced for a crash.

● One of the post-match accusations labelled against the All Blacks that is hard to fathom is that of arrogance.

Maybe I’ve been listening to the wrong channels but all I’ve heard is them acknowledging that the Wallabies outplayed them.

The Scott Barrett red card is a valid talking point but the general consensus is Australia were better than New Zealand before the card.

I would hazard a guess that Jerome Garces is far from Kieran Read and Steve Hansen’s favourite official, but to my knowledge, neither listed him as a particular issue.

The Ardie Savea shove to Michael Hooper’s head was stupid and provocative, but arrogant?

It’s a charge without merit.

● Bennet Omalu, the doctor who discovered CTE in the brains of deceased NFL players, told an Australian newspaper that we are one generation away from the end days of contact sports.

It is, he says, not just a safety issue but the inevitable by-product of human evolution.

The more we learn about the potential for brain damage, the more we’ll be repelled by those sports. Here’s why he’s wrong. Unless there is a fundamental shift in the way humans organise themselves, poverty is going to stick around for a lot longer than a generation.

Those impoverished are always more willing to take chances in their professional life, even if it’s primarily for the entertainment of people who are not poor.

Omalu might have discovered CTE in American footballers relatively recently (2002) but it was recognised as punch-drunk syndrome in boxers as early as the 1920s.

People still box because there is still an audience for it. It’s not that complicated.

Even if scientific research suggests that playing contact sport is wildly damaging for the long-term health of more than a fraction of its players — and we’re nowhere close to that point — as long as there’s people willing to pay to watch it, there’ll be people willing to play it.