The very culture of how we support our teams, be it the Wallabies or a Super 15 side, is sadly defined by one man: the guy in the tight black t-shirt with the clipboard running the door at Cargo Bar.
This guy and others like him at the various establishments around the cities have sucked the very atmosphere out of the Rugby. The man standing at the door, seeing you approaching wearing — shock, horror — a football jersey, radios his mates at other entrances and says the guy in the jersey is a big no-go. The class establishments can’t be seen to let this type of commoner inside. That’s the moment that leads to the low hum and zero atmospheres at games. Now the support is reduced to the man scarf-wearers. Possibly a scarf in the team colours, but probably not.
The Australian Rugby public have only themselves to blame for this travesty. Australians go to the Rugby now to be entertained, as if it were a concert or a movie. If the entertainment doesn’t live up to expectations, the critics pan it and the crowds stay away. We have it backward in Australia. We have come to rely on the something miraculous, something Quade Cooperish, to spark us up.
However, unlike a concert, the “performers” have 15 others in different colours ready to make them bleed. This is all you should need, as supporters of your team. The absolute desire to see your man, your team, your colours spill the first blood, be it in points or the real thing. And your voices, your cheers, the colours you wear on your back should scream that you are behind your team to the last. Instead, the rugby has merely become a meeting point to kick off a night out.
I often get asked about the difference between Australia and European Rugby. The actual on-field differences have been talked about ad nauseam. But it’s off the field the Europeans put us to serious shame. I have spent the last three years playing in Italy and am now playing in France. In Italy, rugby is the probably the sixth most-supported sport behind soccer, Formula 1, basketball, volleyball and cycling.
Yet at any given Super 10 game you can find up to 2,000 Italian supporters, singing the songs, drinking the beer and wearing the colours of the local teams. These 2,000 make the noise of about 15,000 in Oz. They don’t need Johnny Williamson (the legend that he is) to lead them in song. They start the songs themselves. This is how atmosphere is created because believe me, it was never the amazing rugby that had them fired up. All this coming from a country where I was once asked, at a service station where the team had stopped, if rugby was the game that was played on ice?
Now I am playing in the Top 14 in France, and it is something else again. You could put it down to Latin passion, but it is more than that. It is genuine pride. The 20,000 who hang on every moment of the match as if it were there own children playing. All singing the same songs… one side of the stadium starts it up while the other side tries to catch up, never quite being in time because of the distance separating the stands. After the games kids stream onto the field for photos and autographs. Most of them have no idea whose autograph they are getting, unless it’s one of the really big names, but they don’t care, they are out in the middle with faces painted and loving it. In Australia we have become accustomed to the generic salute to the crowd while 100 yellow jacketed security guards make sure none of us get to close.
After the game the bars are full. People debate the loss or celebrate the win. There is no security guard with over-inflated importance blocking their entry to even the best night clubs. Therefore the people will be back next week, in droves, to support their team. Those are the key words that we as Australians as have forgotten. Support the team. The Mungos do it, the AFL supporters are mad for it, yet the rugby supporter has been diminished to just a rugby spectator. A spectator and person lining up at Cargo Bar for an $8 beer.
