Winston Reid of New Zealand during the International Friendly match between Republic of Ireland and New Zealand. Photo / Getty Images.
Winston Reid of New Zealand during the International Friendly match between Republic of Ireland and New Zealand. Photo / Getty Images.
OPINION:
The futility of tradition as a reason to avoid change has been demonstrated in the kneejerk reaction to the thought that the All Whites might, gasp, change their name – and brought to mind a bloke called Eric Douglas.
The son of actor Kirk Douglas, Eric was doing aturn as a stand-up comedian in London years ago. Kirk's fame stemmed from his role in the classic movie Spartacus, during which the Romans captured a small army of slaves involved in the uprising led by Spartacus.
The Romans knew Spartacus was in the crowd but didn't know him by sight. So they said all would be put to death unless they identified Spartacus. To save his fellows, Spartacus raises his hand and says: "I'm Spartacus". There is silence, followed by another slave who says, "No, I'm Spartacus", followed by another, and another…and another.
Thirty years on Eric (later to meet a sad death) was copping a hard time from the London audience. Finally, he couldn't stand the heckling any more. "You can't do this; I'm Kirk Douglas's son," he said.
There was silence. Then one audience member stood up and yelled: "No, I'm Kirk Douglas's son". Then another: "No, I'm Kirk Douglas's son", then another and another…You get the picture.
There's been a small army of former players and commentators standing up against the All Whites' possible name change, which is what made me think of Eric Douglas. They are using tradition as a lever against the proposal, just as Douglas fell back on the tradition of his father being an honoured actor to make a grab for credibility.
The protests hinge on two main elements: first, the name arose from a wardrobe alteration in the 1982 World Cup when the team had to wear white shorts to go with their white jerseys instead of the normal black shorts and has nothing to do with racism. Second: well, will the All Blacks change their name then?
There's quite a few things to say to all this. First, the football world and the globe in general do not know this team as "the All Whites". They know them as New Zealand. So the idea that New Zealand Football is doing this because they are scared of international reaction is about as sustainable as Eric Douglas's comedy career.
The All Whites is a New Zealand nickname – and the nation, like many places round the world, is going through a period of adjustment when it comes to inclusivity and diversity. No matter how much it makes some (mostly older) Kiwis grind their teeth in frustration, the clear fact is that the needle of public opinion has to be manoeuvred to a more radical setting before it settles back in a new, more enlightened median of normalcy. All the history books will show you that.
The reason for this is not just trendy lefty-liberalism; it's George Floyd, racism in football and taking a knee (world football has probably the worst record of racism of any sport), the Christchurch massacre and many other inglorious human failings too numerous to name here.
As for the All Blacks, last time I looked they were the best-known rugby team on the planet; the origin of their name known internationally and, as much as the "reverse racism" guys would love that accusation to be true, it clearly isn't.
The All Whites – a team who play about as often as Donald Trump says something worth listening to – are ranked 119th in the world, just below Kosovo, Sierra Leone and the Faroe Islands. No one outside New Zealand knows why they are called the All Whites; the facility for being misunderstood is high.
All around the world, sports teams are taking note of this new tide of opinion. Even stubborn refuseniks like the NFL's Washington Redskins and baseball's Cleveland Indians have changed their names. Middlesex Cricket Club changed their short-form name from the Crusaders some time back after complaints from both Muslim and Jewish communities.
Our Crusaders, of course, didn't change their name and tried the same mealy-mouthed rationalisation as Middlesex did at first: the name, apparently, referred to the "crusading nature of Canterbury rugby"—a woeful piece of obfuscation if ever there was one.
However, at least they did away with all those fake knights on horseback swinging swords – a pretty clear indication the name was not at all about Canterbury's crusading rugby or, if it was, how it got tangled up with a murderous religious invasion.
Whatever happens, it's good – for the sport, for the country – to have debates like this even if NZ Football decides not to change the name. I mean, the Washington Redskins are now known just as Washington.
