TWICKENHAM TEST

NZ Truth, Issue 998, 10 January 1925, Page 4

TWICKENHAM TEST

VICTORY ON THE RUGBY FRONT,

To begin with, "Truth" has no sympathy to waste on C. Brownlie, ordered oft m the historic football match at Twickenham. There is no need for any special pleading to condone his offence. There\is ho need to look for (and fail to 'discover) a kicked Englishman, or to throw any other sort of ingenious doubt on the reality of his transgression. "Truth" does not believe that the Welsh referee made a mistake. In any case^he is the referee.

The best thing to do about the incident is to forget it so far as its personal bearing is concerned. In a sporting and m an Imperial sense (for football, like cricket, has an Imperial importance) the question of what Brownlie did or didn't do should be just dropped. No explanation will succeed m satisfactorily explaining. The only thing worth remembering is that the loss of a heavy forward, and the. absorption m the pack, of the sometimes ' criticised winger, did not prevent the New Zealand fifteen (or rather fourteen) from winning handsomely the Twickenham Test.

Passing from the Brownlie episode to the general question of rough play and dirty play, "Truth" is. of opinion that an act of discipline performed m tho limelight— and Twickenham is the last word m Rugby limelight— will be reflected down the years, to come, to the betterment of Rugby.

Football can never be as cricket. If cricket were a game m which the batsmen, m order to make runs, had to buffet their way through the eleven fieldsmen, then cricket would no doubt provide some of those clashes and incidents such as are seen m Rugby. But m cricket "playing the, man" is barely possible. In football the opportunities are so -tempting that the practice can be prevented only by eternal vigilance. Therefore one of the last persons to be criticised is the stiict referee. ' .

Far more harm is done to football by the referees that are slack than by those that are severe. In; the matter of Rugby morale, slackness, not severity, is the danger. As between New Zealand and Britain, and as Australia and Britain, Rugby and cricket have risen to a high plane. Let them be kept there.

The tour of the 1924-25 .All Blacks has been the most successful tour m .Rugby, records. Never before has a tour of such magnitude ' been completed without loss. .

Possibly this success 1 . has been all the more welcome m New Zealand because, by many people, it was unexpected — though "Truth's" -Rugby writer, with a close knowledge as well as a robust faith, predicted , from the outset a tour without a defeat.

The self-criticism which is generally a ; feature— and often a helpful feature -^-of those who strive to excel caused some sections of the Rugby community to be somewhat anxious when the team left these shores. Tyler's comments come.: back ' to. mind. They were by no means, baseless. They— and similar criticisms— originated m the ambition that what New Zealand sends shall be the best. Fortunately, if the 1924-25 All Blacks fell short of the ideal, it is dear that their opponents have still greater shortcomings. And the margin between the failings of two combatants .. is the determining factor of victory. ;

Joy at the Twickenham culmination is. therefore enhanced by the circumstance that at^no stagpe>pfr the 1 tour did

the position appear to be absolutely safe. There was no impregnable fence on the goal -line of the 1924-25 All Blacks. Their back fence, indeed, contains a good many more holes than can be found m that of the 1905-06 All Blacks. But the present tourists could always find just a few more holes m their opponents' fence — even m Wales. Hence these smiles. x The comparison need' not be carried to. the point of attempting to say whether Gallaher's team or Porter's is the greater. Sufficient it is to know that the standard- w of this generation is at least not below the standard of that generation; and that men of the stamp of Gallaher (who gave his life m France) are still springing from the sod of what the "Morning- Post" is good enough to call "The Fortunate 1 Islands." And it istj not mere presumption to say that m this sod there must be more than the usual proportion of those things that goito make a nation great. .A country that can borrow a game, and, after half a century's development, go back and teach its teachers, is entitled to take stock of its-- own performances and to deduce therefrom such encouragement, and fuidance (without vain g-lory) as the situation warrants. The genius of the soil is m Australian cricket and m New Zealand football. And the genius of each is obviously not the same genius. In New Zealand even the indigenous race has excelled, and continues to excel, »n Rugby. Memory goes back to before the days of the Native team — days ■when Rugby was often as primitive as its exponents. It was not alwtys scientific, but it was never contemptible. People who cannot remember ""vren the kainga supplied half, or more thvr. half, the members of the local rep. team, have missed a very picturesque side of New Zealand rural Kugby— -a side which has nothing to do with Te Aute College, and of which Nepia and Paewai represent only a modified survival. Those were the days when six feet of barefooted Maori was liable to appear m any part of the field arid perform prodigies of valor. It is to be feared that the players of those days did not, like English skipper Wakefield, look for precedents. They looked for the best way through — and sometimes fecund it. A bare-footed brown goal-kicker placing goals from the touch-line would to-day make Twickenham stare. Once he barely could get a paragraph m the local buster. The Maoris of to-day have, however, made admirable contributions to Paigby history. The scientific display of Nepia m England has impressed the popular imagination. . And New Zealand's Rugby honor — let it not be forgotten — has. rested on the capable shoulders;of its brown as well as of its white citizens. , Gallaher's team passed over the stage, and retired. The present All Blacks have now \ all but completed their mission. They were m the cradle when Gallaher was a man, and it is odd to think that their, successors are now boys or babies. But while the career of the individual footballer j is ephemeral, the life of the game is continuous, and it is. to the young idea that we must look for its preservation. To the schools is bequeathed a tradition well worth while, and on them devolves the honor of maintaining it,