The Scrum of a Dream

New Zealand Listener, Volume 21, Issue 527, 29 July 1949, Page 19

The Scrum of a Dream

A Fantasy, written for "The Listener’ by

ALAN

MULGAN

HE fire was warm, the armchair comfortable, and I was tired, I think the last thing I remember was the Voice from South Africa, "Hullo, New Zealand. . ." = Ed * WAS coming down the steps of the University College with the Rector. e Was saying good-bye. "And are you interested in football? You’d better see the Institute over there before you go -the Institute of Rugby Technology. Ah, there’s the Director-Mr. Blackie! Would you mind showing my friend over the Institute?" I felt rather embarrassed; I was a New Zealander and a follower of Rugby, yet I had not heard of such an Institute. Mr. Blackie, who probably took me for a newcomer, explained as he conducted me to the near-by building. He was an athletic-looking youngish man with an intense expression. "After the last tour of South Africa," he began, "it was fully realised by all those who had the interests of the game at ‘heart that drastic remedial action must be taken without delay. So the Rugby Unions of New Zealand and some of the wealthy pat-. rons of the game supplied the necessary finance’ to establish this Institute of Rugby Technology for the scientific study of the game in all its aspects. We were fortunate to obtain (this site next to the University College, because we employ to a considerable extent the College’s staff and equipment. It was proposed that the study of _ Rugby should be made a University subject, but the Senate declined to entertain the proposition. They were most uncooperative; in fact, quite intransigent." "How do you mean you use the staff and equipment?" "For such things as the designing of our scrum-demonstrating and measuring machines; measuring windage in kicking; ‘co-ordination of mental and physical processes; diet; the psychological approach. But you will be able to see for yourself." > a HE took me into a big gymnasium. There was the apparatus one usually finds in gymnasiums, and at the far end some young men were exercising, but there were also strange machines. Two were obviously artificial scrums. One consisted of. two sets of curved steel

tods, jointed. at the height of a man's knee, and ending in feet. "This is the basis of our work among the forwards," explained. the Director. "An exact replica of a scrum, and it functions perfectly." He put a ball in the scrum and there was the click of a switch. The mechanical "hookers" on one side neatly ‘advanced their feet and drew the ball back. The other "forwards". shot it out. . The Director shut the switch and opened an-

other, and the robots on the other side went through the same actions. "Marvellous," I said, "but what happens when you put them both on?" "There’s a tussle of course; I would rather not doit, for it involves a considerable measure of skilful manipulation. William Scraggs is our scrum expert. He can secure many interesting results. You grasp the idea? This is the perfect scrum, used for instructional purposes. Now here (touching the second machine) is a method of testing human forwards. You observe that each player can fit into his framework, and: push, and the amount of energy expended and its direction are recorded on these dials. We can study all the angles of pushing. Mr. Barber!" "Yes, sir.’ A’ young man from the end of the room came up and stood at attention before the Director. "Mr, Barber, would you please demonstrate to this gentleman how this machine operates?" Mr. Barber placed himself in a frame, and threw his weight against the shoulder pads. ‘Two needles on dials spun round. "Thank you, Mr. Barber." "Very good, sir." The young man stood up, came to attention, and walked away. "A fine young man that," commented the Director. "He is really with us for the correction of a Mother Fixation." "A what?" ’ "A Mother Fixation. Does that surprise you? Psychological investigation is an integral part of our operations. This particular Mother Fixation is part of a general national trend-the worship and imitation of ‘the Mother Country, England. Mr. Barber had a Mother Fixation concerning Rugby football, possibly as a result of assimilating too many stories of English public school life. He preferred English methods of play, and actually spoke of the game as Rugger. We had to break down a subjective tradition in the patient and build up a new integration of personality. He is almost ready to be discharged now." AS we strolled along corridors lined with photograpfis of football groups and famous players, the’ Director developed this, theme. "We call in the (Continued on page 21)

A RUGBY FANTASY (Continued from page 19) psychologieal department of the University Coflege to assist us in our problems. They are infinite in variety. There are simple cases of fear-complex-play-ers afraid that they will not be able to display their abilities to the best advantage. Then we have emotional disturbances like falling in love. A most gifted place-kick missed twelve shots running. His affections had fastened by chance on a young woman, but, though he was one of the most fearless tacklers in the Dominion, he was too nervous to declare himself. We soon corrected that maladjustment." . "Did he marry the girl?" "Possibly. But we don’t encourage players to marry. This young woman

is an enthusiastic devotee of cricket, and I doubt if her influence would be beneficial." He went on to tell more about this psychology business. "The cases I have cited are but surface explorations. We dig down deeply into the Id, and have made some curious and indeed startling discoveries. There is the egg complex. The egg of course closely resembles the football in shape, and infantile experiences with eggs lead to various adult inhibitions and frustrations, We had one most brilliant three-quarter — very fast, with a most dangerous side-step and a deadly tackle, but every now and then his fielding was deficient. We discovered! that when he was a small child his brother threw an egg in his face at the breakfast table, with the consequence that ever afterwards he had been liable to be frightened when anything in the shape of an egg was thrown at him." ; He described some of the methods of training backs. Fullbacks learned to gauge the strength of mind--something on the lines of the Beaufort scale .at sea. Five-eighths had to weave their way through lines of upright sticks at a set speed. They mustn’t touch a tick; if they did it was electrically recorded. I protested that you couldn’t be sure of getting men with such natural gifts. I recalled that one year the Auckland selector had five first-class five-eighths to choose from, but later on, not one. "Forwards are made, but five-eighths come from Heaven." He looked at me rather coldly. "There is that difficulty, possibly. But the situation is verv different now. New

Zealanders have become really footballconscious. Their attitude used to be quite amateurish. Not that I am suggesting anything in the nature of professionalism. I refer to a mental state. Our conception of football has been: reorientated." (I had expected that word.) WE passed the psychological laboratory and I had a dim view of students at work-possibly looking for the egg in the Ego. There were several girls. I wondered if the probing of the sub-conscious was entirely confined to football. Then to the library and the research department. Nowhere did I hear a laugh or see a smile, "We consider there is a great deal to be learned from the methods of the Great Masters of the game, and the classification and study of moves leading to scores. Bradman closely studied the ways in which batsmen were dismissed in Test matches and shaped his

batting accordingly. We follow a similar plan. But. it is disappointing to find that often convincing testimony as to how a try was scored is lacking. George Smith’s winning try against Scotland, for example. We cannot get a clear picture of what happened." "Yes, history’s like that," I interposed. "They're still arguing about . Waterloo and wondering’ why Hannibal didn’t march on Rome straight after Cannae." He said quite a literature had accreted round Bob Deans’s disallowed

try against Wales. A histoty honours student at the University had proposed to write a thesis about it, but the Pro- | fessor wouldn’t consent. "T suppose it’s a great honour to be a student here," I asked. A very great honour, the Director replied, if he passed in strategy, tactics, and history. "You will notice the letters ‘P.R.S.C.’ after names in the papers and the Rugby Union annuals. That stands for ‘Passed Rugby Staff College." "Well, thank you very much," * * 7 THEN I woke up, Winston McCarthy was still saying, "Hullo, New Zealand." I have been told that long dreams are in actual duration extremely short.