What’s still slightly weird is that because he surfs, skateboards, and breakdances, there are some in the game who think his success is purely based on being able to relate to young men who play rugby for a living.
That’s certainly part of it. But just as important is the fact that he’s chased rugby knowledge since he first came to Christchurch from Mt Maunganui in 1996.
“I had my own playbook with my moves and my structures,” Robertson once told me. “I’d go to the different coaches and show them, and say, ‘Can I do this better? What about this?’”
An obsession with tactics and detail is easy to detect when a coach presents a grave face to the world. The wonderful exuberance of Razor proves you can be joyful and a deep thinker too.
Crusaders head coach Scott Robertson celebrates with the Super Rugby Pacific trophy. Photo / Photosport
Giants walked among us
Refereeing decisions played a major role in the final, but so did the dominance of the lineout by the Crusaders.
Sam Whitelock, who appears to have defied the wishes of the All Blacks camp just by playing, and Scott Barrett were extraordinary. Aided by the throwing of Codie Taylor, who only had one wayward throw in 80 minutes, they overwhelmed a Chiefs’ lineout that included an all-time great in Brodie Retallick, and an All Black for the future, Tupou Vaa’i.
As outstanding as Barrett and Taylor were in general play, Whitelock was my man of the match. His commitment was beyond reproach, and a reminder yet again that he’s a key to success for the All Blacks at the World Cup.
You say it best, when you say nothing at all
A reminder of how cruel sport can be came when Chiefs co-captain Brad Weber was so bereft by the loss that, although he’s one of the most articulate and intelligent men in the game, he was initially unable to form a sentence after the final.
The Chiefs have done everything right this year. Coach Clayton McMillan and his staff have got the best from veterans like Retallick and Sam Cane, boosted the careers of Luke Jacobson and Damian McKenzie, and launched a shining new star in dashing wing Emoni Narawa.
Huge crowds have been rewarded with gutsy, efficient performances, and a string of victories that brought the final to Hamilton.
The measure of the group now will be how they bounce back next year from this bitter night. McMillan, as grounded as you’d expect a former Rotorua cop, and hard-bitten Bay of Plenty forward, to be, feels like the right man to get the Chiefs on track again.
Swapping cards
Looking again at multiple replays of Anton Lienert-Brown’s tackle that led to Dallas McLeod failing a head injury assessment, it was inevitable that Lienert-Brown would be cited.
When there’s a clash of heads the onus is on the tackler to get his angle lower. When the two collided their heads were on almost exactly the same level.
Anton Lienert-Brown of the Chiefs faces a suspension after his tackle on Dallas McLeod of the Crusaders. Photo / Getty
So close
What looked like the most exciting try of the night came in the 55th minute. A long, perfect throw by Samisoni Taukei’aho at a lineout just inside the Chiefs’ half was seized on by McKenzie who darted through unopposed, before feeding Narawa who was unstoppable.
It would have probably sealed the game up, at 27-15 with a likely conversion.
Unfortunately for the Chiefs, the 10 metre line marking on the field clearly showed McKenzie had suffered from a case of premature acceleration, and he was offside when he took the ball.
Sam Cane’s binning at 72 minutes was a crucial moment, but the ruling out of what would have been Narawa’s second try was the game breaker.
It’s the same old song
A common theme during the week, that rugby here would be better off without the dominance of the Crusaders, is a classic hit that gets a spin every time one side rules the local game.
Before the first World Cup in 1987 every commentator south of the Bombays yearned for the demise of an Auckland team that was dominating provincial rugby so much they were running up scores in the 30s and 40s against other first division sides.
Oddly enough I can’t recall any parochial moaning when 10 of those dreaded Aucklanders started in the All Blacks side that demolished France in the Cup final.
