KEY POINTS:
Troy Flavell's yellow card for having a bit of a scrape with his boots at a Crusaders player killing the ball highlighted, even at this early stage of the season, rugby's next major issue.
In terms of heinous crime, Flavell's actions reminded me of one of the sayings
of a former colleague: "It's like being beaten to death with a soggy ant."
Rugby is over-legislated and over-controlled and needs to take a great deal of care with its next steps. The yellow cards, the sanitised scrums, the gently-gently-don't-touch-that-man syndrome has already, in the minds of many, neutered rugby overmuch.
Safety is fine. Ridding the field of dirty play and thugs is also fine. But why do people watch rugby? Why is it popular?
There are three answers:
1. A tradition of success in this country.
2. The thrill of watching tries being scored.
3. The thrill of watching a genuine physical contest.
Reason number 1 continues. Reason number 2 is a bit shakier as defences rule and as rugby's morass of rules and refereeing interpretations continue to grip. Reason number 3 is perhaps the biggest worry of all.
What were the best rugby tests of last season? Wrong. It was the Kiwis-Kangaroos Tri-Nations league tests.
Why? Not only because it was close and there was an underdog-favourite thing going on but also because it was a vastly physical match between two of the best teams on the planet who were fielding their leading players. But let's not dwell on rotation here.
David Kidwell's big hit on Willie Mason was almost a cliché - hometown hero deals to comic-book villain. But it set up those intense clashes. The physical nature of that series stemmed from that moment. It was compelling but, if Kidwell had done that in rugby, he would have been yellow-carded, at least, and quite possibly shipped off to Devils Island where he would eke out his days learning crochet in penance.
No one can blame rugby's administrators for wanting to safeguard the game so mothers do not make their little Jasons and Jonathans play football instead of that nasty rugby game.
Nor can anyone blame Keith Lawrence, the New Zealand Rugby Union referees director, and his band of refs for enforcing laws they are presented with.
Rugby's bosses, on the other hand, have a huge job in front of them. Rugby is becoming more and more anaesthetised. The tackled ball rule is an arrant nonsense - a vastly confusing litter of flailing bodies, groping hands and all manner of confusion, with a ref screaming out instructions to the players. It is difficult to think of any other sport with rules so convoluted the referee has to instruct players during play.
The scrums are the latest example of rugby's growing blancmange. One of the key facets of rugby - differentiating it from league - is that it is a struggle for possession of the ball. Scrums, lineouts and loose ball area are all elements of that struggle.
But now the scrum has been speyed, robbed of that hit which helps to make it a unique phase of power and technique.
Safety? Sure, understand completely. But those of you who read Richard Loe's column on this subject last year may remember that he felt safety was only an issue in lower grades, as the top players were physically and technically trained up - and would anyway find a way round the new laws, given time.
And then there's rucking. Lawrence's detailed explanation of rucking versus stamping is sound enough but it's a textbook analysis - it doesn't really take into account the speed of the game these days and the narrow, narrow window that players have to get the tackled ball while mayhem occurs around them.
What do we want? A game where the ball circulates or another stoppage for another scrum, where the scrum is itself just a restart? It's a vicious circle. Taken separately, each of these issues - the tackled ball, scrums and rucking - seem inconsequential. Add them together and you get a bigger picture of a game which is slowly diluting the core of its own excitement.
Do we stop Michael Schumacher racing in F1 because he might kill himself? Do we stop boxers even though they may radically injure themselves? Do we stop people yachting because they might sink and drown? Do we ban driving because of the road toll? Do we prohibit the sale of cigarettes?
In sport, in all dangerous sport and many other things besides, there is an implied consent. Players understand and acknowledge the danger of the sport they play. No one forces them to do it.
The thrills and spills are a large part of what draws the audiences.
Without it, the sport becomes a kind of Oozelum bird - the mythical beast which wandered around in ever-diminishing circles until it disappeared up its own orifice.
