'Ma' knows best: Lessons in game management, lekker rugby and the Ethan Hooker 'dogshot'

My mother doesn't watch much rugby but as she sat down last week Saturday — semi-forced, semi-persuaded — to watch a full day’s worth of United Rugby Championship (URC) action, she came to three conclusions.

Firstly, the Stormers are lucky to be in second, such was their poor game management against Connacht. Secondly, the Lions are playing some lekker rugby; and lastly, that “tackle” on Ethan Hooker was disgusting. Of course, point two is more a reflection of my bias than anything else, but the other two statements certainly stand.

The Hooker verdict is of particular interest because if a layperson not intently and intimately aware of the laws of rugby can make that immediate assessment and the match officials cannot, then it probably does say something about the current standard of the officiating. Those with the day job of analysing every aspect of sport will cite Law 9.11: players must not do anything that is reckless or dangerous to others.

So, when Luke Morgan came crashing down on Hooker, leading with his forearm into the back of the Sharks wing, with no wrap attempted and the player and ball already over the whitewash, it was surely, surely in the interest of the match to at least review the incident.

My ma, who celebrated her 60th birthday on Thursday, seemed to believe so.

As someone born in KwaZulu-Natal, I won’t say it ruined her evening — again that was probably more on me — but it certainly remained a talking point after the 21-17 loss and into the next morning, too.

And this is where my current frustration with rugby comes in. We are told, ad nauseam, that player welfare is the game’s top priority. The laws of the game have been written, rewritten, and then rewritten again to ensure that this is the case.

It has become an exercise in science: flashing gumguards to alert when a head-knock is too severe, and debates about the definition of an inch-perfect tackle height, while TMOs and bunker reviews seemingly have a formula to calculate momentum, intent, and mitigating factors. A centimetre, it seems, can be the difference between a penalty or a card.

We watch slow-motion replays of accidental head-clashes until the soul of the game feels sterilised, all in the name of safety. Yet, when a player like Morgan executes a move that belongs more in a WWE ring than a URC clash — diving onto a prone player with no intention other than to "leave a mark" — the silence from the officials is deafening.

I might be a little bit facetious at the moment, but the interpretation of the laws have become wildly inconsistent to the point that no consensus can be reached.

It has made the online supporters' base a toxic cesspool of whataboutism and intolerably rude behaviour. Morgan’s thoughtless social media posting (now deleted) on the incident — essentially claiming legality because the ball wasn't "technically" grounded — only further inflamed that particular ugliness.

When the URC finally broke their silence on the matter this past week, the response was a masterclass in bureaucratic deflection: “The citing officer involved reviewed the incident and found that it did not meet the red (or yellow) card threshold.

"There has been a lot of public discourse about the fixture, and while we certainly understand there are heightened opinions in these circumstances, we must respect the processes that are in place.”

Regardless, when the laws are applied with such clinical pedantry in some areas but ignored with a degree of apathy in others, you lose the trust of the fans. Or worse, you lose the trust of mothers everywhere, who might be dissuaded from introducing or allowing their children to participate in rugby.

If the URC wants to be taken seriously as a global sports brand, it cannot have its rising stars — the very players we pay to watch — sidelined by "dogshots" that everyone except the men with the whistles can see.

In any event, my mother was right in one respect: The Lions ARE playing lekker rugby right now.