Rugby Fever Even Puts Beatlemania To Shame

Press, Volume CIV, Issue 30803, 15 July 1965, Page 2

Rugby Fever Even Puts Beatlemania To Shame

(By L. S. and F. B.)

Beatlemania has been slated, decried and analysed. But will any voice be raised to criticise the no-less emotional yells and cries of thousands of adults under the influence of Rugby* mania in Christchurch yesterday?

The mention of the Merseyside’s mop-tops usually brings expressions of derision from adults and teen-agers’ adulation meets a mixture of scorn and anxiety for the state of their moral fibre. And as for paying large sums to see the “creatures” perform, or standing in all weathers to catch a glimpse of them, that is almost beyond comprehension.

Yet how often have these children heard their parents discussing “The Game” and its participants with the fever which in other countries is usually reserved for national crises. Surely the country’s debate on the Vietnam situation would not be equal in intensity to the bail-by-ball discussions of the Sprongbok matches which are taking place in many homes and hotels in New Zealand. If a player breaks his toe before a match, or sprains his wrist, it is a matter for grave concern. His loss of a game takes on the proportions of a family bereavement.

Rugby is continually before every boy. When he is not much bigger than the oval bail, junior is thrust into competitive football. Making the first fifteen at school often becomes more important than academic achievement, and parents hope fondly not for a prime minister in the family but for an All Black. Obsession Let us say that we are not anti-Rugtoy, anti-Springbok or indeed anti-any kind of sport. But we are concerned about the obsession which claims so many New Zealanders when ever a major sporting event occurs.

This seems to be out of all proportion to the interest shown in community affairs. Will the polling booths for the local body elections in October be as busy as the turnstiles at Lancaster Park were yesterday. What did he think about the number of children who were let out of school early in the afternoon, presumably to watch the match, the father of a high-school boy was asked yesterday. "I think they should be at school doing their swot—that’s what we pay school fees for,” he said, a short time after his son, who is sitting School Certificate this year, had dashed into his office to borrow some money to go to the match. Firmly tied to his office desk, this citizen was of the opinion that there was no fever at all attached to this Springbok tour. Were there not a large number of men heading for Lancaster Park, with fanatical gleams in their eyes, he was asked? “They’re just using The Game as a good excuse to dodge work,” he said. Time Off Many a businessman who usually considers his prescence in the office a vital necessity found he could take time off yesterday to give the home side the benefit of his support. The secretary is left to offer politely worded, but less than plausible excuses for his absence. Frustration took hold of some whose work had to continue yesterday. After reaching a man of some authority in a local firm, a harassed secretary commented on her relief at finding one businessman at his post. His reply was: “I’m probably the only sucker who is.”

A telephone call to a city office which normally has several lines busy all day, brought a delighted response. “Well, this is the first call we have had this afternoon.” But it seems that some secretaries have a way of evening the score. She was listening to a radio commentary of the game on a transistor. Transistors shrilled beside many a fan who was unable to attend the match. If you were one of those who, in all innocence, appealed for service or assistance from a local firm, that commentary, blaring in the background was the reason for your long wait.