We’re two rounds and six matches into this year’s Six Nations and a major narrative thread remains conspicuous by its absence. We’ve had debates around Irish fly-halves, England’s fitness standards, Scotland’s mettle and French goats, but we’ve not had the anticipated vitriolic rants and spittle-laden tirades concerning 6-2 bench splits and the death of rugby’s values.
Which is odd considering this pearl-clutching was front and centre last year, and the year before, and pretty much every year since 2019 when Rassie Erasmus had the gall to amplify the Springboks’ strengths and stack his bench with burly forwards. The crescendo of swooning hot takes went up a notch when – shock, horror – Jacques Nienaber fielded seven – SEVEN! – forwards as replacements during the World Cup against Ireland and for the final showdown against New Zealand. This was effectively the equivalent of spitting in the eye of William Webb Ellis’s ghost.
France have named a 6-2 bench in both matches this campaign. So have Italy. So have England. Scotland did so as well in their match against Ireland on Sunday which means that more than half the match-day 23s in this Six Nations have ripped a page out of the Springboks’ award-winning playbook in the hope of replicating their success.
But where has all the disdain gone? Last year Stephen Jones of the Sunday Times called Erasmus “arrogant’ for front-loading his bench. The former Scotland coach Matt Williams accused the Springboks of “abusing rugby traditions” by “discriminating against backs”. England’s 2003 World Cup winner, Will Greenwood effectively accused South Africa of exploding the laws of the game, citing health and safety concerns as his primary cause for complaint.
Do they have a point? There’s no denying that South Africa’s Bomb Squad is a crude, blunt tool. It arrives with all the grace and subtlety of a herd of buffalo on the march. The sight of gnarly, ill-intentioned forwards waiting to be unleashed in one go is a visceral reminder that at the elite level, bigger men more often than not will have the beating of smaller men.
Whenever a team or athlete starts to dominate their sport in a manner not deemed ‘the right way’, critics will find fault in their tactics. Novak Djokovic has been branded as mechanical, in stark contrast to the fluidity of Roger Federer’s strokes. Max Verstappen’s championships have been caveated by his car’s dominance. Pep Guardiola’s Manchester City have been called boring and predictable, as if the latter attribute was somehow a valid criticism of any outfit’s title credentials.
This is all well and good, after all, critics can have their bugbears and every story needs a villain. But can we at least have some consistency? Why has no prominent pundit or former player lambasted the arrogance of France’s Croissant Crew, or Italy’s Focaccia Formation, or England’s Warm-Ale Warriors? Maybe they’re just waiting for catchier nicknames. Or perhaps there’s some truth to the feeling that all South African rugby fans have felt for some time, which is this: the Springboks will always be respected, will often be feared, but will struggle to win the hearts of the wider rugby community.
Erasmus is fully aware of this. Last year, before the launch of his team’s unbeaten Autumn tour of Europe, the South African coach invited a select group of British journalists for a series of conversations on the island of Jersey. Senior players and coaches did their best to shift the conversation with a concerted charm offensive.
“I care what people think about the players because they are very good guys,” Erasmus told the Guardian. “You don’t want to make other people unhappy. You don’t want people not to like you. You don’t want people to think you are stubborn. You don’t want people to think you are arrogant, especially if you know the characters in the team.”
I think that ship sailed after the ill-fated 2021 British & Irish Lions tour. The die was cast after a video of Erasmus’ criticisms of referee Nic Berry’s performance in the first Test was leaked – possibly by Erasmus himself. No matter how uplifting Siya Kolisi’s story might be, no matter how much the team’s attack transforms, no matter how much passion, energy and money South African supporters bring to the game, any team coached or managed by Erasmus will be reviled by a large section of the rugby public.
But we can least give the team their dues? So, rather than an appeal for love, consider this an appeal for respect. Erasmus has changed the game like no other coach in the history of the sport. Not only do we see 6-2 bench-splits as the new normal, but the way replacements are used has been utterly transformed thanks to Erasmus.
Scotland and Wales now regularly change their entire front rows in one swoop, allowing for their scrums and mauls to operate at full capacity across the 80 minutes. Ireland have continued to name their best hooker on the bench, accepting that Dan Sheehan’s impact might be limited in terms of time on the pitch, but that his energy and efficiency in the latter stages of Tests could be the difference in tight contests.
I can see why Erasmus can rub some people up the wrong way; he’s antagonistic and hogs attention in the media. I can see why the Springboks can evoke antipathy; their strength in depth and massive men are a privilege most nations could only dream of. I can see why South African rugby fans can come across as infuriating; they can be brash and obnoxious, and the perpetual tethering of the nation to the team’s exploits can grow tiresome.
But anyone who knows their marks from their mauls must recognise that this team has completely shifted the dial. The coaches at France, Ireland, Italy, England, Scotland and Wales certainly have.
