Cup row reveals a fishy odour

CHRIS HEWETT of the London Independent offers a British view on the big spat.

It would have been quite an event, tomorrow's ceremonial draw for next year's World Cup: a glittering, if cauliflower-faced, array of rugby's great and good, knocking back the bubbly on the Sydney waterfront and hoovering up photo-opportunities on the steps of the Opera House.

If the orchestra had been serenading the oval-ball plutocrats with excerpts from Wagner's Ring cycle, it would have been perfect. The composer knew a thing or two about arrogance, greed, brinkmanship and the corrosive properties of power.

But for the sea of bad blood separating Australia from New Zealand - a Tasman of thrombotic ill-feeling, you might call it - the showpiece would have gone ahead.

The directors of Rugby World Cup would have announced a fixture schedule as pure as the driven snow, with no hint of the political and commercial acrobatics performed to put the "right" teams in the "right" groups to ensure a healthy revenue stream for those with the most negotiating muscle, that is to say, the Wallabies.

And the weaker nations, like the used and abused Argentines? They would have been told, politely but firmly, to shut up and get on with it.

New Zealand's exclusion from the sub-hosting arrangement is a serious decision, driven by the equally serious fear that with the economics of the tournament loaded in the Wallabies' favour, they would lose a small fortune on the deal.

This shambolic venture is now on hold, pending the implementation of a contingency plan under which Australia will put on the entire show.

In one sense, this is excellent news: the multi-host World Cups of 1987, 1991 and 1999 were flawed affairs, with little momentum and no obvious sense of identity.

The Australians, lavishly equipped with top-class stadiums, are confident of their ability to match, maybe even surpass, the stunning 1995 tournament in South Africa.

Sydney, Brisbane, Melbourne, Perth, Canberra, Townsville and Gosford all contributed handsomely to last year's Lions tour, and Adelaide is also hunting a piece of the union action. Good? It should be great.

But the events of the last few days have left an overwhelming impression of organisational incompetence, accompanied by a distinct odour of fish.

RWC's lack of transparency over World Cup seedings is nothing new, but it has surpassed itself this time. The pools in Australia comprised most of the top teams, including England and South Africa - great pulling power. They also comprised Ireland, highly marketable wildcards.

New Zealand was left with the scraps.

No one ever quibbled with the assertion that a World Cup draw was necessarily fraught with difficulty.

"The problem is one of equity," sighed a weary Chris Rea, the IRB's communications manager, during his attempt at shuttle diplomacy in New Zealand last week.

"We've rehearsed the exercise time and time again, and the danger of a huge imbalance between the various pools is always present.

"It would be terrific to do this with all the razzmatazz of soccer, but we are not in the happy position of having a dozen or so teams capable of making the semifinals, or of having 20-odd teams who can play the best on a level field."

The governing classes have done little to dispel the view that the major issues are financial rather than competitive.

When push came to shove, the New Zealanders felt they could not square the commercial circle and pulled out. Their much-publicised concern over clashes between the World Cup dates and those set aside for their own NPC was, say senior figures from both Antipodean unions, nothing but a smokescreen designed to conceal the fact they could not make the maths add up.

Politically, rugby relations between the two countries have seldom been worse. The anger over New Zealand's decision to veto expansion plans for the Super 12 tournament runs deep. This latest breakdown merely adds an oilfield of fuel to the fire.

Depressing? It would be, were it not so laughable. Next year's tournament could, and should, be the most fascinating yet, not simply because England, France and, to a lesser extent, Ireland have closed in on the great triumvirate of Southern Hemisphere superpowers.

Several developing nations are making things happen in hitherto neglected corners of the rugby landscape. In Eastern Europe, North Africa and South America, ambition is rampant and excitement high.

Georgia and Russia, who fought out a 12-12 draw in front of 65,000 spectators in Tbilisi a week ago, are fancied to qualify. So are Morocco, one of six African nations fighting for a single place at the finals.

Chile's 33-13 victory over Uruguay in Santiago has signalled the emergence of an important new contender.

Sadly, nothing is more likely to undermine young and vibrant rugby communities than the sight of their alleged elders and betters cancelling glitzy launches, tweaking draws for their own benefit and bitching about money.

You can almost hear the newcomers wondering whether it might not be simpler to stick to soccer, where the scandals are bigger and better organised.