The inaugural era of professional rugby in New Zealand began 25 years ago in 1996. This heralded the beginning of what was then Super 12 rugby in which local and provincial rugby was to be increasingly of secondary importance.
Contests between elite groups of players in New Zealand, Australia and South Africa rapidly captured public attention. Most teams had exotic names as well, adding to their aura. Since then test players have invariably been selected from these franchises with many young players nowadays getting a grounding in sports academies.
For players at this level, the financial rewards can be considerable but as a way of life, total commitment and sacrifice are required. Players now are bigger, stronger, fitter and faster than ever. Some, in fact, are of gargantuan proportions with the game often looking more like trench warfare with backs and forwards forming defensive lines in which they can become indistinguishable. Frequent bulldozer-type tactics are employed by the attacking team to cross the score line, not infrequently resulting in tries. There are times, though, when the running and passing skills on display are exceptional.
When I was growing up in South Otago in the 1950s and 1960s, the game was much simpler.
There were the local club teams which still exist. The Otago provincial team comprising players from throughout the province with the Otago University rugby club providing several of these. And, of course, the All Blacks who, although amateurs, were revered. They all had day jobs and a number of the forwards such as “Pine Tree” Meads were farmers. There were no contracts, with the age of Lycra some way off.
Unlike today, jerseys were not skin tight. The showgrounds at Balclutha was the spiritual home of South Otago Rugby. Titanic contests for the Topp Cup would take place there with rivals West Otago, Vincent and Maniototo. I still retain vivid memories of All Black I.S.T. Smith “the Gimmerburn ghost” gliding silently and effortlessly through opposition back lines. Players back then seemed to be caked in liniment with its aroma wafting across the ground. Cigarette smoke and the smell of alcohol also permeated the crowds gathered on the embankment adding atmosphere on a grey winter’s afternoon.
Unlike today there were no water boys. The only thirst quencher being a tiny piece of orange at halftime. Failure to release the ball quickly following a tackle could result in sprig marks being inflicted from rampaging opposition forwards.
There were no yellow or red cards let alone sin bins. The most egregious offence could result in the ultimate ignominy of a sending off. Such was the fate of All Blacks Cyril Brownlie and Colin Meads during tests in the British Isles. There were no side line officials or video reviews then. The celebration of a try with high fives and other histrionics is more a feature of the professional era.
My only foray into club rugby was as a student at Otago University in the early 1970s when I played for a season with the Alhambra team based at Opoho. The team was struggling a bit at that stage and victories were few. However, it was stimulating to play against teams with All Blacks in them. Laurie Mains and Gary Sear from Southern being examples.
I clearly remember clutching thin air on a couple of occasions when Green Island’s Lyn Jaffray accelerated past, exhibiting the subtle skills that took him to the highest level.
Legendary Keith Murdoch was a prominent player as, too, was Duncan Robertson.
This is but a simple depiction of a game of two eras.
Comparisons there are but each is what it is. Despite all of the changes the game in many respects remains the same. Many more of us, however, are likely to be watching it on television.
• Joss Miller is a retired Dunedin lawyer.
