So, over the weekend I was watching the footy with my girlfriend who did the one thing rugby-watching men fear the most. She tested me,“Babe, why are they allowed to do that?”. Now like I said, we all fear this because, between waffling on about laws and taking a sip of the frosty beverage to stall and buy some time, we do genuinely panic. The simple answer; “I have no idea my love…” is what I should have said. Instead I opted for blaming the ref for missing a blatant penalty and left it at that. That night I thought about it. The rules regarding the rolling maul are super simple.
Number 1, You may not sack or collapse a maul once it is formed. Number 2, offside rules apply from the behind the hindmost player’s feet. Number 3, when joining the maul, one must do so from behind the ball carrier. Those, mixed in with some simple, “no unfair advantage” and “no dangerous play” seems to float the boat of World Rugby. (Rule 17, should you want to read it) So, why did I not have an answer when I was asked why the Lions could win a game using the same tactic that could’ve netted the Sharks a 5-pointer earlier that day…
In week eleven the Brumbies went up against the Highlanders in Canberra, tough game right? Wrong! Tough day at the office for the Highlanders, copping 15 Pocock points from the back of a rolling maul. All, if I may, wrongly awarded. Brumbies players joined the maul from in front of David Pocock. Now I personally don’t care that much. But the fact of the matter is that if they didn’t award the tries, what would’ve been the outcome? Surely we cannot allow a minimum of 15 point to be chalked up to interpretation. Fast forward to round 13. In Wellington the struggling Sharks go up against the Canes. They should lose this game based on how the season has been going, but they are in the driving seat for a healthy portion of the contest. In the last quarter however, a try is disallowed by the officials and, 20 or so minutes later, the Sharks are left kicking grass and shaking heads; another loss. Now for the Sharks one might argue that the rolling maul is all they have. And lets be honest, take that away from them and its only a matter of solid defence to see the match out.
That same afternoon I’m sitting on the couch watching the Lions rolling it in from 25 meters out. The difference in the Sharks game you ask… Changing lanes. Now the broad idea is that when one receives the ball from the top of a lineout, and the ball carrier remains off the ground (ie. no tackle), a maul is called. Ball is shifted to the back of the maul for the attacking team and it here where all is open to interpretation. Surely the referee cannot see where attacking players are joining if he is looking to see whether the opposing team is offside. Nor can he be asked to make sure the attacking team’s ball carrier remains bound to the maul if some giant of a man is on the deck trying to pull the whole shebang down on top of himself. So the question then is not one of will the referee miss a penalty, it becomes which one will he see first.
If by some miracle the ball makes it to the midfield and slight crossing ensues, we see players throwing up hands, appealing and carrying on like Imran Tahir on Day 3 of a cricket test match, “How is that Mr Ref?”. Then it’s up to the TMO, followed by much jargon of which we simpletons grasp little. Called back. Accidental offside, scrum to the defending side due to the fact that the ball carrier of the attacking side ran into his team mate. Play is stopped as a result of a possible (every one together now… POSSIBLE) infringement. Meanwhile back in the land of eight-stud boots and cauliflower ears, Eben Etzebeth is still swinging wildly at someone half his size.
The problem is clear. Off the lineout the ball was stewarded to the back of a little train, making it impossible to reach the ball carrier legally. Unless of course, you “swim” through the maul. This got Dominic Bird sent to the bin earlier in the round, so scratch that. You then have the option of sacking the maul, this means you latch on to the jumper, ball in hand, and take him to ground, once he has safely landed. This is to be done at your own peril because nothing makes a tighthead happier than some pretty-boy loose forward, lying on the ground with nowhere to go. What ensues is mountaineering that would see Sir Edmund Hillary nod in approval, so that’s off the table then. So the list goes on, punches thrown, ears pulled and what have you, while at the back, unharmed, is the ball.
The question is simple, how does one allow obstruction of defensive play to stop the game out wide, but in the thick stuff, the call is play on? Now I am sure there is a reason, but this is my open letter to anyone in the rugby fraternity:
Maul the damn thing, maul it all day long. I can’t wait for the first coast to coast maul. The problem however is that Jesse Kriel does not wear shiny boots and ridiculously short pants to stand and do nothing. Cory Jane did not wake up at 4 in the morning to start flat-ironing his hair, and Julian Savea did not cut his pillaging of villages, and eating of cows short to congratulate the Marcell Coetzees or David Pococks of the world on a try that they had no damn business scoring in the first place. Swing it wide because that’s the spirit of our game. I would love to see teams embrace this but the fact of the matter is that the rule makers at World Rugby are leaving refs exposed to make 50/50 decisions for no apparent reason. I suggest legalising pulling it down, if that fails, impose a limit on the distance one can progress before a penalty is awarded.
Fast forward a few months, in a low scoring Rugby World Cup final, a maul will create the opportunity for points. Those points will go a long way to crowning a world champion, and that is fine. But please, lets find another way to call these damn things, or get them out of the game that we love so much.
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