BY DOMINIC WIGHTMAN
“Welcome to Ukraine,” joked one of the dads from the visiting team. His son’s U14 rugby team was on a tour to Devon from wealthy, rural Berkshire. From the mobile breeze block seats—yes, literally—where we were perched under a leaky corrugated iron roof, looking out across the sodden pitch towards the building in front of us with a massive hole in its asbestos roof, looking like it had recently been hit by a Russian missile, no one could argue with him.
The home team won, of course.
As Brazilian favela footballers and Indian street cricketers have shown, equipment isn’t what counts most in sport. Where there’s hunger and talent, the gifted will always overcome. In any case, Devon isn’t short of shrewd coaches or gutsy lads (or rugby-playing lasses).
But why are England’s regional rugby clubs in such a poor state? Why isn’t the England rugby team dominating as the country’s wealth, population, and superb coaches should suggest? Why are Premiership rugby clubs going bust? More importantly, why do children in this part of Devon have to venture north up into the sheep-filled fields of Dartmoor just to find a dry practice pitch when their club’s pitches are so often flooded in autumn and winter? Why is there only one all-weather pitch available to them within thirty miles, which is only rentable maybe once a quarter?
The RFU Annual Report shows significantly higher revenues for the year at £221.4m (up from £189.1m the previous year), increased investment in rugby at £99.4m (up from £77.4m), and an operating profit of £4m (down from £15m). Despite all the millions of pounds in rugby, local clubs like this club in Devon are run by passionate volunteers. Often, the grounds they play on are leased from councils or local landowners, putting the clubs at an immediate financial disadvantage. Worse, those running the club feel they cannot invest long-term in the facilities or pitches. In contrast, clubs in Devon’s French equivalent, Southwest France—excluding the large private clubs—are well-funded by local councils, enjoy amazing facilities throughout the year and produce brilliant internationals year in year out.
When boys (or girls) cannot play because the club’s pitches are flooded, sub-paying parents get riled. The club relies on these parents to pay their bills, volunteer, and generate income by attending club social events. Of course the RFU’s resources cannot stretch as far as needed across England’s 1,900 rugby union clubs, 6,060 referees, and over a million male players, including 362,319 pre-teen and 698,803 teen players, plus 11,000 senior female players. A hundred million pounds is mere pocket change.
As I watch these lads give their all during the training and matches (those that weather permits), coached by committed and inspirational mentors, I despair. England should be building grassroots supply and support properly, not settling for ubiquitous mediocrity.
If England wants to return to the top — to the pinnacle that Sir Clive’s 2023 team reached — the RFU and whoever takes over at DCLG next month need to think outside of the box. Many young rugby players will give up as club volunteer numbers dwindle and their regional clubs continue to suffer from inadequate facilities.
Successful local exceptions like the Exeter Chiefs, backed by entrepreneur Tony Rowe, are increasingly rare. Therefore, a coordinated, centralised approach is needed. More funding from lotteries, government, or crowdfunding, and a more strategic approach from the RFU, would make a huge difference.
Businesses wasting money on green corporate social responsibility, planting the odd tree in Scotland or Wales, should instead sponsor a less well-off rugby club and take pride in providing boots and gear to poor kids; playable pitches to poor clubs.
The RFU needs to take the lead.
Forget these regions and England rugby’s 2003 will inevitably become English football’s 1966. The brilliance of England’s young rugby players needs both nurture and much more playing time on playable pitches, just like former public school boys such as me were privileged to benefit from day in and day out.
Dominic Wightman is the Editor of Country Squire Magazine and the author of Dear Townies and Arcadia amongst other books.