Dominic George: We re far too quick to judge

There seems to be an increasing fixation on making judgment calls, and not just about rugby. Photo / Dean Purcell

Decisions over big issues are made on the most scant evidence imaginable

They say a week is a long time in politics - and the same can be said for sport.

Witness the fallout from the drawn Bledisloe Cup test in Sydney a couple of weeks ago, contrast that with the reaction to the Eden Park test and you'll get the picture. After one average outing on a rain-soaked night, the All Blacks collective ability was called into question. Forget all the mitigating circumstances around that particular game, the fact they've already completed a clean sweep against England earlier in the year and the small matter of suffering just one solitary defeat in the best part of three seasons -- the actual legacy of the team was called into question after a single game.

Fast forward a week later and it's as if all that never really existed as scribes, fans and pundits ran out of superlatives as they lauded the All Blacks efforts in Auckland.

All of a sudden the guardians of the game were scrambling to find the appropriate space in the pantheon of sporting greatness for the current crop All Blacks.

What's missing here is some middle ground. There seems to be an increasing fixation on making judgment calls, and not just about rugby, at breakneck speed. We must decide if something or someone is destined for greatness or consigned to the scrapheap on the most scant evidence imaginable.

If we don't like a song after two bars, we discard it (but make sure to tell the world about it).

Andrew Mulligan made an excellent point on Farming First earlier this week. He said "we consume rugby in this country, we don't really enjoy it any more".

I think he's hit on something there. As a general sports fan who watches for entertainment with no vested interest in the outcome, (I don't bet, my kids aren't playing and I don't usually get upset at sports results), I want entertainment and drama out of sport. I want a close game with two evenly matched teams, I want an underdog to come through and beat the odds, I want to see aesthetically pleasing sport from the best athletes in the world, I want unlikely characters to do things out of the blue and I want to take my mind off all the other dross for a few hours. In short, there is a tendency to take things too seriously.

I used to take great delight in watching a member of the extended family at his grandchildren's birthday parties. He would prowl the perimeter of the party with a gargantuan camera snapping away like the paparazzi in front of a royal. The moment of truth came when the birthday cake was brought forth to the child of honour. This chap would charge through the crowd to find the optimum position to snap the money shot, knocking women and children out of the way in his quest to do so.

Inevitably he'd miss the opportunity as the smoke from the candles wafted into the air, another year ticked off the child's life and another photographic failure, he was certainly no Peter Bush.

The funniest part was his reaction - feet stomping, audible cursing, punctuated with hearty sighs of exasperation. It was brilliant. The irony, of course, is in his desire to capture the perfect moment he missed enjoying the moment as it unfolded in front of him.

And it's that sense of objectivity that seems to be eroding by the day and with it goes humour. Like the reaction to the All Blacks, for instance. We see it every fortnight as well with the Global Dairy Trade Event. Prices drop and all of a sudden every talking point from mortgage rates to depression is wheeled out for another thrashing, prices hold, or even go up, and suddenly the rockstar economy is exploding with unbridled wealth for all and sundry. Heck, if a week is a long time in politics and sport, a fortnight is a freakin' eternity ... believe me, I write the stories.