Chris Rattue: NZRU boxed into an awkward corner

Sonny Bill Williams of New Zealand knocks out Ryan Hogan from New Zealand. Photo / Getty Images

The Sonny Bill Williams boxing story refuses to remain on the canvas and this column won't throw in the towel either.

Encouraging your prime football talent into the murky world of professional boxing is plain stupid, especially on the eve of what you regard as the great World Cup mission.

I love boxing ... watching it, that is.

But anybody who thinks boxing is run by squeaky-clean blokes who spend their waking hours swatting up on injury care is bonkers.

Professional boxers know the dangers, dedicate at least some of their careers to minimising them, and hope for glory and riches in return.

Professional boxing causes brain damage to almost everyone who does it. The sport is an absolute winner though - for repairers of hand and eye injuries.

As they say - it only takes one punch.

When a footy star feels a little tweak, you'll see a fleet of concerned lackeys flying out there like seagulls to a breadcrumb.

When a boxer gets a smack in the mush and then can't work out what his name is, all he'll hear is the muddled sound of fellow citizens yelling for more.

The All Blacks were none too pleased when Bakkies Botha head-butted Jimmy Cowan, yet are happy for Scott Lewis to belt the hobby boxer Williams on the noggin as often as he can.

Did they check the guy out, see if he was "Wrecking Ball" Lewis, or leave the health and safety issues in the caring hands of a boxing promoter?

It's hard to know where the Crusaders coach Todd Blackadder really stands on this. Maybe someone has been working Toddy over.

Last week he could "live" with Sonny Bill's boxing, despite feeling shivers as self-confessed league legend Anthony Mundine was walloped by a reality show winner (true story).

This week, Blackadder is in SBDub's corner, happy as Larry Holmes and talking all "no cotton wool", echoing the Canterbury coach Rob Penney, who backed Sonny Boy's boxing from the beginning.

Okay, so people think boxing is great for Sonny Bill. Fair enough.

But don't reinvent pro boxing as only slightly more dangerous than ping-pong.

What happens when Sonny Bill feels a twinge, in hand or head, during a fight that people have paid to see?

Does he think: "Oooo, I've got the World Cup this year so I'll back off, sit on my little stool, spit in the bucket, and suggest to my trainer - what's his name again? - that I'll call it a day, even though I'm not sure which day it actually is.

"Not to worry, because the mob loves me. It will be fun putting on that natty dressing gown with Raging Sonny Bill on the back, and trundling through the baying public to my dressing room."

To stop their players from boxing professionally would not be - as the Canterbury party line seems to suggest - "wrapping them in cotton wool".

This "don't put them in cotton wool" phrase arose in 2007, after the NZRU banned rugby players from playing rugby.

And Blackadder should not equate his squad's boxing training drills with Williams' boxing career, as he seemed to do in yesterday's Herald.

If boxing training is good enough for the rest of the Crusaders, why isn't it good enough for Sonny Bill Williams?

The New Zealand rugby hierarchy, desperate for Sonny Bill's limelight, were boxed into a corner and, to be fair, they were on the mark in winning his signature.

But now they are doing what New Zealand rugby always does and getting everyone's story straight.

So to Todd Blackadder, Rob Penney, Steve Tew and all the other really hard men out there, I say this.

Call me a powder puff, but don't pretend that professional boxing is akin to imitation boxing drills, or a sensible punt for a central figure in your World Cup plans.

* * * *

Whoever blinks first wins

My neighbour gave his full and frank view of the coming cricket action.

"You've got one team who have turned losing into a fine art playing another team who are paid to lose," he said with a grin, evaluating the Black Caps and Pakistan.

"This will be the first ever case of who blinks first and wins."

The Black Caps are team fixing, while nomadic Pakistan are shrouded in spot-fixing allegations.

We'll soon get a clear view of whether John Wright can work any magic as the new coach of the Black Caps. Odds are, he'll make initial improvements before the general lack of talent and toughness - plus of course top order batting - brings down yet another coaching regime.

That Daniel Vettori is a shoo-in as captain because even wild fantasies cannot produce another candidate indicates the sad state of affairs.

You can only do so much with what is available in New Zealand cricket, and there ain't a lot out there.

The major bright spot is the emergence of Kane Williamson, who people in the know reckon is the real deal.

As for Pakistan, I wouldn't wholly trust the outcome of the ICC's match tampering investigation, whichever way they go. Finding this sort of rot is a very difficult business, and those at the centre of the allegations will no doubt plead their innocence for the rest of their days.

Going on past problems, cricket doesn't really care all that much.

The baddies seem to find their place back in the fold and public affection.

Everyone thought it was a good old laugh decades ago when a couple of Aussie legends bet against their own team and, lo and behold, England extricated themselves from a seemingly impossible position and won the game. How absolutely hilarious - oh those Aussie larrikins are such a laugh.

Little wonder then that the allegations of corruption (and that's what betting against your own team should be regarded as) continue to this day.