The main purpose of a World Cup is to grow the game, raise awareness and generate income that can be used to promote the sport to new audiences and territories. The performances of Lebanon and – despite their thrashings in the final group games, Greece and Jamaica – should have done that.
There will always be one-sided scorelines. The bottom seeds have to play the top teams at some point, even if scheduling those games at the end of the groups – when they are low on energy and high on homesickness – seems cruel. Some of last weekend’s results were brutal – England 94-4 Greece, Tonga 92-10 Cook Islands, Lebanon 74-12 Jamaica, Australia 66-6 Italy, and Samoa 62–4 France – but we should not get caught up in hysteria. In several cases, full-time professionals understandably hammered a group of part-timers.
It was no surprise that heroic first-timers Greece conceded 200 points in the group of death. The mainly part-time Cook Islands and Italy both shipped 130, Jamaica 190. Even Scotland, with half a team of full-timers, conceded 142. And yet Wales fought heroically to keep dignity intact throughout a bruising Group D.
Scorelines can be cruel, too. Astonishingly, Jamaica had very nearly 50% of possession against Lebanon; they completed 87% of their 30 sets; and made just seven errors. They knew what they were doing. Likewise, Italy made Australia work hard for their 66 points.
We should be more concerned about France’s team of Super League players falling apart against Samoa, Ireland’s Super League stars failing to cope with a Lebanon side consisting of mainly New South Wales Cup players, and Scotland melting against Australia. The northern hemisphere teams – mainly products of Super League and England’s player development system – have fallen miles behind those hardened in the NRL.
Having a few NRL superstars obviously helps. On Sunday, Jamaica’s team of mainly League 1 players was taken apart by Lebanon trio Mitchell Moses, Adam Doueihi and Josh Mansour, who scored 38 points between them. Jamaica had no one of that quality to call upon yet their contribution was important, not only to the celebratory feel to the event but the growth of the sport.
Jamaica head coach Romeo Monteith and second rower Chevaughn Bailey – a primary school PE teacher from Kingston – spoke after the game about how their appearance at the World Cup would help grow the sport back home, where there were 900 registered players before the pandemic. “People are saying the World Cup should just be five or six nations – that’s rubbish,” said Monteith. “Yes, we’ve had some blowout scores, but tell me a sport that doesn’t. Creating a legacy is what this is about. There are thousands of kids back home looking for an opportunity – the fact that kids are getting offered scholarships to go to university to play rugby league makes this all worthwhile.”
The sport has also kept going in extraordinarily challenging conditions in Lebanon. “They are doing it tough in Lebanon at the moment,” said coach Michael Chieka after his team sealed a quarter-final against Australia. “They’re doing a great job to keep rugby league alive under very, very difficult circumstances. If we can provide more awareness by putting the Cedar tree up against the best in the world, that’s great.”
The dozens of flag-waving, tarbouch or headscarf-wearing Lebanon fans at Leigh Sports Village sitting among the hundreds of Jamaica supporters – including England hero Dom Young, watching brother Alex – clad in green, black and gold, epitomised the possibilities. Many of the Tonga fans following their team have flown in from the US, Netherlands and Germany with little or no knowledge of rugby league. They are at the tournament to be patriotic, see old friends and enjoy themselves.
The World Cup gives international teams a unique opportunity to market the sport. Where else would Lebanese fans rejoice in seeing their national team victorious on a world stage? Having a credible fixture list gives these countries more of a chance to attract eligible top-level players.
There is no denying that many squads are as packed with players born in England or Australia as they were in 2000. Ireland fielded as many homegrown players at this World Cup as they did 22 years ago (one), Scotland the same (none). Forward Gioele Celerino was the only player born and bred in Italy to get on the field for the national team – for 14 minutes – and neither of Lebanon’s two domestic players seem likely to feature now.
But what is the alternative? A World Cup without heritage players would be vastly less appealing and therefore financially disastrous. And there are positive signs that homegrown players will be given more chances in the future. Jamaica gave appearances to five players who learned the game on the island; Greece fielded seven domestic products; four other Italians trained intensely for three weeks and will take that experience back to their clubs.
And it’s not all about the players. Monteith stressed the importance of forthcoming coaching and refereeing development programmes in Jamaica; Italy brought domestic coaches, physios, conditioners and administrators into their camp to experience elite rugby league.
Any criticism of the players and coaches who have competed at the tournament is grossly unfair. They are not guilty of anything other than a love of their country and dedication to a cause. Many have been playing for a decade, some going above and beyond the call of duty. When his work as a software engineer took Greek forward Grigoris Koutsimpogiorgos to Brussels, he commuted to the Netherlands to play for Rotterdam Pitbulls to prepare for his World Cup debut. Celerino moved from north-west Italy to the south of France to pursue his rugby league dream. “It doesn’t matter how much I played – the most important thing is the journey,” he said after facing Australia. “I’ve found the richest things: met lots of people, done lots of great experiences that make me a richer person. We will remember this story for our entire lives.”
Mismatches are inevitable when seasoned stars face part-timers, but the feelgood factor overrides the lopsided scorelines
www.theguardian.com
