Captain Cook Friday, February 19, 2010

I WAS not among those who threw missiles at the ref last Saturday. There is no condoning it. But the irritation of the crowd was palpable. They had sat through a humdinger of a thunderstorm, getting thoroughly soused and experiencing the first intimations of dhobey itch as wet Y-fronts combined with a humid atmosphere. They had watched 80 minutes of erratic and inexplicable refereeing decisions that appeared to bewilder the players on both sides as much as they did the crowd. And they had watched our fellows win back the lead – then lose it again, plus the match – in the last 30 seconds of injury time. The punters were peeved.

The strength of their feelings can be judged by the fact that the missiles which flew onfield were the large plastic beer containers sold at the ground. As anyone knows, plastic beer containers lack aerodynamic capacity and distance unless they are still filled with beer. These punters were so furious they were prepared to waste their beer on the ref. That says something. All right, I suppose it's possible that some of them widdled in the containers before throwing but it's unlikely. People who are wound up like that tend to act on impulse, they do not think strategically.

There was severe commentary in the Duikers' afterwards - two schools of thought. One was that they found the ref at Fort Napier, the other that they found him at Fort Mistake. In fact, of course, he was a rookie from New Zealand.

I'm not suggesting for a moment that Keith Brown was biased. That is what we expect from Aussie refs, who have criminality in the genes. Kiwi refs merely have the defect of having been driven mad by scurvy, which is why they are as dangerous to their own sides as to us.

My overriding point is that the IRB seem so obsessed these days with fine-tuning the laws that nobody seems to know what the heck is going on from one season to the next; not the players, nor the punters. Maybe Brown was the only person in the stadium who had a proper handle on things. Last season we had the wretched ELV nonsense – the players never entirely sure what set of laws they were playing under – and now this season the new tackle laws.

These sound great in theory except that, as I've pointed out before, there's a crazy contradiction. When held in the tackle, you have to release the ball. But the tackler is no longer allowed to hold the tackled, he has to roll clear. You spotta da problem?

Meanwhile, what got into Steve Meyer? To have a great season with Perpignan, come back and train with Plumtree's squad, look sharp as a tack – then retire from rugby just a couple of days before the first match is erratic behaviour, even for a Kearsney boy. At first I thought he'd won that massive PowerBall jackpot – but it turns out it's not so. It can't be a woman – most girls support rugby. I don't think he's joined a Trappist order. Nothing makes sense. Maybe he's put off by the new tackle laws.

Vrystaat vanaand! Remember the Alamo! See you in the Duikers'! (I'll be the one holding the blonde in the tackle). Then tomorrow Northerns v ACT and Province v New South Wales. See you in the Filler! (I'll be looking for a blonde to tackle). A luta continhua!