Sir Humphrey-style standard response in a time of crisis
http://www.theaustralian.com.au/sport/opinion/wayne-smith/sir-humphreystyle-standard-response-in-a-time-of-crisis/
WAYNE SMITH
The Australian
Australian Rugby Union chief executive Bill Pulver and his right-hand man, at least for now, Rob Clarke have invited SANZAAR boss Andy Marinos into their St Leonard’s bunker to discuss the worsening crisis … with continuing apologies to the makers of Yes Minister.
Pulver: “Let me recapitulate my thinking … yes, Rob, what is it?”
Clarke: “Well, sorry to intrude … but you can’t recapitulate an idea until you’ve actually started it yet.”
Pulver: “Yes, Rob, thank you so much for that. Now, as I was saying, or rather re-saying, we’ve got a serious problem with the perception that we’re flip-flopping.”
Marinos: “Flip-flopping? What the hell is flip-flopping? Is that like jiggery-pokery?”
Pulver (to himself): Honestly, these damned South Africans. Don’t they know anything? (Then to Marinos.) “Actually, Andy, it means constantly prevaricating, changing our minds, being indecisive, having one course then abruptly setting off on another. Whereas jiggery-pokery is Scottish for dealing dishonestly with someone …”
Marinos: “Well, you can at least see why I was confused. But, sorry, don’t let me interrupt you.”
Pulver: “Anyhow, first we were going to get rid of the Western Force, although we told everyone they were in a list with the Melbourne Rebels and the Brumbies. Of course, the Brumbies were there only for window-dressing but when people started taking us seriously … goodness, where was John Connolly going with that harebrained scheme of his? … merging the Brumbies with the Rebels? ... we had to reassure Canberra that we were only joking. So that left the Rebels and Force. But then the Force found some fairly compelling legal reasons why we couldn’t dump them, so we switched our attack to the Rebels. But, sadly, they wouldn’t sell, though God knows we offered them the farm, so now we’re back to the Force again. Except that those legal barriers are still there. And now we have a meeting scheduled for later this week where we have to explain to the Australian rugby fraternity precisely what we’re doing.”
Marinos: “Goodness, I can’t for the life of me understand how people might accuse you of ... what was the term ... flip-flopping. But why did you call me in? How can I help you?”
Pulver: “We need ideas. I thought perhaps as CEO of *SANZAAR you might have some suggestions?”
Marinos: “Well, it’s really none of my business … but, since you’ve asked … I’ve always wondered why that scheme of Connolly’s of moving the Brumbies to Melbourne and merging them with the Rebels was so harebrained? Seems to me like a perfectly sound idea. It wouldn’t have affected their TV audience but it certainly would give the Brumbies a far more sizeable base in which to grow and you could still play some matches in Canberra. As my dear old Ma always used to say: How will this look in 20 years’ time? And frankly, I think the rugby fans of 2037 would be absolutely gobsmacked that you put Canberra ahead of Melbourne.”
Pulver: “Well, we had a very good reason for acting as we did.”
Marinos: “Which was ... ?
Pulver: “One of our directors was the original Brumbies captain and we didn’t want to offend him.”
Marinos was about to respond when Clarke cut him off …
Clarke: “Bill, if I might be so bold …”
Pulver: “Be as bold as you like…”
Clarke: “Well, we could always say we’d made a huge mistake, that there is absolutely no way of doing this and to revert to five teams.”
Pulver: “I said be bold, not *suicidal….”
Clarke: “Better I be bold than you be stumped.”
Pulver: “Look, I know that’s what everyone wants, five teams, but we’ve just gone too far down this path of cutting back to four. We’d look ridiculous if we bailed out now. Besides, it doesn’t address the original question of where we get the money from to make five teams financially *sustainable.”
Clarke: “Ah yes, well, I’ve been giving that a lot of thought. Perhaps we could start an economy drive. We could begin with something simple and popular — like cutting the directors’ fees.”
Pulver (acidly): “You’re leaving the ARU at the end of June, aren’t you, Rob?”
Clarke, cowing under the harsh gaze of his boss, fell silent. But then he figured “I am leaving at the end of June so why not put it all on the line?” So he reverted to being bold again. “Bill, we both know there’s a lot of fat on the ARU budget. And SANZAAR’s too, for that matter. Seriously, we’re sending three teams of something like 35-odd players and officials around the world business class this year, just to play a single game against an Argentinian side that hardly anyone knows is in the competition. I can understand that Rory Arnold and Adam Coleman might get cramped if SANZAAR flew them cattle class but, seriously, Joe Powell and Nick Frisby? And did you see that food bill one of the Super Rugby teams ran up in Tokyo? $100,000, for just five days. They must all have been eating soft-shelled crab sushi.”
Marinos: “Peanuts.”
Pulver: “No thank you.”
Then he realised that Marinos wasn’t passing him the snack bowl but rather was commenting on the outrageous catering sum.
Clearly he needed to change the subject.
“Well, that also doesn’t solve the problems of our teams being so uncompetitive.”
Clarke: “As Bob Dwyer was saying, it’s all to do with the *coaches …”
Pulver: “What’s wrong with the coaches? And what the hell has Bob Dwyer to do with this? We have to get the board members out to the game in something comfortable. Can’t just send them Uber.”
Clarke sighed. The end of June couldn’t come quickly enough ...
