It’s OK, it’s not all black
It’s tempting to pile in on NZ Rugby’s distress. But we should be better than that, writes Kevin Norquay.
Before the Irish uprising, there may have been a smidgen of reasonable doubt around the case that New Zealand is chronically obsessed with rugby. Now all doubt is gone.
Three police officers escorted All Blacks coach Ian Foster to his seat on Saturday. Why? Four days on, the leading topic of conversation is around his future.
‘‘We are bloody sorry we couldn’t put the performances out there that you guys deserved,’’ captain Sam Cane said after the game. And what a game it was. Ireland were superb early, the All Blacks struck back with wonderfully cheering tries, and when it was all over it was the Irish weeping for joy.
It was sport as entertainment, sport as skill, as speed, as emotion. It was 80 minutes that had everything. But say it again, Sam: ‘‘We are extremely disappointed.’’
And it seems Cane is right. It seems we have reached a point where, instead of enjoying life, we run around with pitchforks seeking those who have let us down.
If so, that’s a more pleasant national dilemma than, let’s say, how do we stop the Russian troops, or did the president cause a riotous attack on the heart of US democracy. Rugby is a nice diversion from rising inflation, poor education statistics, a richpoor gap wider than the one Ireland raced through for their second try.
What a paradise Aotearoa might be if only all the brain power, column inches and talkback chat spent on the All Blacks slipping to world No 4 were spent pondering why the country is near bottom in the OECD education statistics.
Like the economy, New Zealand rugby has spent the past two decades slipping from the pinnacle, putting Band-Aids over problems that will require long-term solutions. And as in politics, rather than those long-term solutions, we get dogmatic yelling. Replace the word Labour with the Chiefs, and National with Crusaders, and it’s the same level of unilluminating debate.
The way Sir Peter Gluckman, chief science adviser to three prime ministers, outlines political divisions might equally apply to sport. ‘‘It’s been defined more in terms of I don’t like the other side,’’ he says. ‘‘Yeah, so it’s been replaced by what we call affective polarisation.’’
Affective polarisation is the difference between positive in-group bias towards the party someone supports (let’s say Crusaders), and negative out-group bias against those they do not (Chiefs).
Jo Malcolm, communications executive of New Zealand Rugby (NZR), made a mistake in cancelling Foster’s Sunday press conference, but she knew exactly what questions would be asked, and that none of the answers would be illuminating.
Working as she does in an area that is a celebration of toxic masculinity, Malcolm might have guessed her pleas to treat Foster as a ‘‘human’’ would raise outrage levels, just as Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern’s ‘‘Be kind’’ is now mocked.
Of course, Foster and Ardern are wellpaid to do the jobs they do, which leads some to make the argument that stress is part of the job, so they should wear it.
That’s a tortured road, which leads to mental health problems and death threats.
Where on that road does a civilised country put its stop signs, saying that’s enough? Malcolm opted to raise her stop sign, and was ridiculed.
Again, it was the wrong decision – get Foster to repeat stock lines and bat away the questions – but at its heart were empathy and stress, things Malcolm knows more about than any outside the team.
For those of the view that fame and fortune make people impervious to stress and/or mental health issues, I give you Anthony Bourdain, Robin Williams, Kurt Cobain, Kate Spade and Ernest Hemingway.
Lest this seem a glowing endorsement of NZR, for 40 years this writer has questioned politicians, newsmakers and athletes, then written down their answers for newspapers or websites.
It seems simple, right? Sadly no. Often it is difficult, and at the peak of Mt Difficulty is placed the NZR flag.
There have been many years of answering NZR’s PR people (Malcolm included) about the real or imagined failings of myself, or colleagues. And I am not alone in this among my peers.
So while there is the temptation to kick NZR when it’s down, let’s choose to help it up, dust it off and give it a beer. After all, things could be worse. We didn’t lose to England.