Andy Capostagno
The row over who really won the Super 12, the Canterbury Crusaders or the referees, refuses to die down. It seems that whereas in the past, a chorus of “Who’s the bastard in the black” to the tune of Guide Me Oh Thou Great Redeemer was deemed sufficient to let the man in the middle know what the crowd thought of him, nowadays everyone is an expert on the laws and their interpretation.
Of course it’s a lot more difficult to sing “Who’s the bastard in the green and purple shirt with the blue socks and the Vodacom sponsorship” and retain any sense of metre, but should that really allow us to criticise the custodians of the laws so vehemently?
I have been upbraided by armchair critics many times in the past for not being critical enough of refereeing decisions.
My response usually runs along these lines: there are many onerous tasks on a rugby field and not even Os du Randt wants to play tighthead (“It’s hard in there,” he says), but sooner would I have my toenails pulled out by a blunt staple-extractor than be forced to referee a game.
Referees are on a hiding to nothing because the crucial laws are open to interpretation.
The Coastal Sharks were upset because in their semi-final against the Crusaders, they were penalised for holding the ball on the ground, while the defending team was allowed to come over the top and kill the ball.
Coach Ian McIntosh wants law 18, the tackle ball, dealt with sooner rather than later, but even though the South African referees are preparing a submission to the International Rugby Board on that very subject, nothing can be done until after the 1999 World Cup.
Which means that the referees are going to have to continue to endure the wrath of rugby supporters the world over. Given that fact, most people wouldn’t much look forward to running out on to the field with a whistle rather than a rugby ball. But one man can’t wait.
Last week I happened to be passing through Pietermaritzburg, the home of Ian Rogers. In case you hadn’t heard, Ian has lung cancer. He has never smoked, drinks in strict moderation and is only 39.
He was refereeing the Super 12 until he was invalided home from New Zealand a couple of months ago.
He is now engaged in a fight for life. In the circumstances it was a delight to see him so cheerful and positive, a calm eye at the centre of a storm of activity revolving around his two children.
He was asked if he would be well enough to speak at a meeting of the Natal Referees Society, but sadly had to decline. He did, however, sit down and write a letter to his fellow refs called “A time for reflection”. Here it is.
“It was a long six days from the first signs of discomfort in Sydney; from seeing the Aussie medical boys, to flying home, being hospitalised in Durban, having my right lung drained and several biopsies taken from the `mass’ located in my upper right lung.
“In a way it was a relief to finally get the verdict . So I had cancer. Sure it was a helluva shock to the system and a very abrupt change to my hectic schedule, but as I said to my fantastic medical team, `Okay guys, we have a bit of a problem here; let’s get off our butts and sort this uninvited guest out.’
“As a referee you cannot stand and watch while pandemonium develops on the field. Decisions needed to be taken and action taken bloody quickly. This time however, it was not going to be as easy as blowing a loud whistle and giving the offender a red card. If ever my management skills were to be tested, this was it.
“So right now the fight is on. It’s a tough fight, but believe me it is character building. Right now as I sit resting at home preparing for the next treatment I think of you all and hope the season is going well for you. Enjoy and treasure the memories of every match you ref. Despite having lost about 8kgs, I really am doing well and feeling mentally very strong. I’m taking one day at a time and each day I ask God to protect me from the evils of this uninvited guest. In God, I believe in miracles, so expect to see me back soon.”
It is true the world over that refereeing is more a calling than a profession, though it is a little more true in South Africa than it is in Australia and New Zealand. The Australian Rugby Union and the New Zealand Rugby Football Union have seen fit to contract their best referees. They do not earn a king’s ransom, but four of Australia’s five contracted referees now list their profession as “professional referee”, and Paddy O’Brien and Paul Honiss have the same designation in New Zealand.
In this country refereeing remains a part-time job, something that has to be fitted in between earning a living. What this means is that for our refs to travel to the antipodes to officiate in the Super 12 they have to take time off work. What this also means is that in the event of injury or illness the South African Rugby Football Union (Sarfu) is not bound contractually to help its referees either medically or financially.
Sarfu chief executive officer Rian Oberholzer has rung Ian Rogers with messages of support a couple of times since his illness was diagnosed, but he is not in a position to offer any kind of concrete assistance.
Sarfu is in the midst of a shake-up by the National Sports Council. Rugby’s ruling body has an opportunity that comes along extremely rarely; it has carte blanche to reinvent itself. If that reinvention were to include player representation on its executive board and contractual obligations to the leading referees, what a far-sighted body it would prove to be.
You need three things to play a game of rugby. A ball, some players and a referee. Without any one of those three the game does not exist. Think about that the next time you feel like crucifying the referee.