Lent Day 19: Just not cricket...or rugby

If you are a regular reader of my blog you will know that I'm pretty passionate about rugby. Particularly school boy rugby. Firstly I love the sport, and secondly half the first rugby team are in my Drama class. And they are generally phenomenal Drama students too, not that most people care. 

It also means that every Monday, of every second term, either some wild high fives, or some post traumatic stress counseling happens in my classroom. Which is fair. Winning and losing graciously is all part of the game. To me it's actually the most important part of the game. Being gracious in defeat speaks volumes about the character of the boy, and the school he comes from. 

But with school boy rugby I have to draw the line in the whole gracious losers thing. 

This weekend the team I support were totally annihilated. I watched as flanks were literally rivitted into the air, their legs flailing at least a metre off the ground. It was a blood bath. And the team they were playing against absolutely deserved to win. 

If I was using film as a metaphor I would say it was the scene in the beginning of a war movie where a group of passionate vigilante villagers armed with pitchforks and pangas get mown down by mercenaries with sniper rifles and night vision head sets. 

I use the term 'mercenary' here for a reason. 'A professional soldier hired to serve in a foreign army'. I'll just leave that there because I love dictionary definitions. 

I'll also just throw out the stat that I recieved from one of my boys playing for the first team that the team they played this weekend had at least six players who joined the school in Grade 10 or 11. And that's just the players he could remember off the top of his head. That's almost half the team. 

I wonder how the little grade 8 rugby players at that school must feel - enjoy your A rugby experience up until Under 16 because after that chances are you will be replaced in the Open section, by players who are 19 years old and should probably already be playing provincial rugby. 

What was interesting for me was the Under 15 and 16 A games on the day. Here the teams were very evenly matched and ultimately my teams won both games. 

So what then happened in the Opens? I'll leave you to do the maths. 

I just cannot get behind this ethically. 

I understand that an opportunity to attend the kinds of schools I am talking about is a tremendous life line for some boys. Being given a scholarship in grade 10 and 11 to attend one of the most exclusive boys schools in the country is life changing. And believe me I've taught my fair share of these boys. But not half a rugby team.

And sometimes it's a whole rugby team.

And what happens to the schools these boys come from? Sometimes they are at good schools and are flourishing there - all the years of training and hard work put into these boys disappears in an instant when their star player packs up and leaves. I wonder how that feels for the coaches and team mates left behind? 

And how does it feel for that little guy who, from grade 8, has idolized the first team. Who spends hours fetching balls for the fly half at twilight, who sweats a river in his blazer as he sprints onto the field to deliver water to his demigods at half time. The little guy who plays his heart out and does absolutely everything in his power to make the team. Only to discover that when winning counts his efforts are never going to be enough and his replacement has been found. Because winning is more important than honouring commitment and heart. 

Every single first team player on the field from my school has been at the school since Grade 8. And yes, it's a young team with lots of Grade 11 boys coming straight into the first team from Under 16 last year. And yes, we were totally outmatched yesterday. 

But, they know every school war cry, they've watched every first team game from the stands since Grade 8, they have had their highs and lows as a team because they've generally been playing together since they were 13. They've been on countless rugby tours and have faced victories and losses, together. They are fully fledged members of the school who contribute as heads of houses, prefects, dramatists, musicians, academics, role models. They are more than mercenaries. And they have earned that position in the team. 

This Sunday I sit with a bitter taste in my mouth. Maybe I'm too old school. Maybe the values of integrity, commitment, honour and loyalty are dead like disco. Maybe it should just be about winning at all costs even if most of your first team have never even watched a game from the stands. 

But I fear if our schools cannot incalcate these values in our boys now and (to quote the late great Athol Fugard) 'honour the things worth honouring', what kind of men will we be faced with later?