While rugby players are viewed by some as superhuman they, too, are essentially employees, writes Liam Napier. Photo / Photosport
While rugby players are viewed by some as superhuman they, too, are essentially employees, writes Liam Napier. Photo / Photosport
OPINION:
Amid the inescapable clamour for immediate solutions, pragmatism is often an unpopular course of action.
In times of a global pandemic, the only certainty is unusual measures are necessary in attempts to counter worst-case scenarios.
Sporting codes, as with most industries, have been hit hard in the ongoing falloutfrom Covid-19. New Zealand athletes and teams have been marooned at home and abroad for seasons on end. Tours and events continue to be cancelled, competitions compromised, revenue streams stripped back to bare bones.
For a country isolated at the foot of the globe, light is - perhaps - beginning to peek through from a sporting perspective in the form of the imminent border reopening plan delivered by the Prime Minister on Thursday.
For now, though, the expanding Omicron wave, close-contact definition and strict isolation stipulations threaten to wreak havoc on workers throughout the country.
Although rugby players are viewed by some as superhuman they, too, are essentially employees. Their bosses at New Zealand Rugby have deemed the only way to preserve the revamped Super Rugby Pacific draw is to move all six NZ-based teams into a Queenstown bubble via charter flights, and hope that hub will enable games to be played without a disruptive outbreak.
Such a scenario caught many here by surprise. Some will believe it is extreme. Yet it is not unique. For its 2019/2022 season the NBA relocated 22 teams to Disneyland in a move estimated to have recouped US$1.5 billion in revenue.
Two years on, New Zealand remains in much the same space.
Roger Tuivasa-Sheck in action during a Blues training session. Photo / Photosport
Super Rugby players, coaches and support staff will now be forced to sacrifice their freedoms for the next month.
Living in a bubble is not easy – not least for the All Blacks who spent 15 weeks away from home last year and emerged from quarantine only in mid-December.
With salaries tied to broadcasting revenue, they ultimately have little choice. The alternative is to stay home with household members who are frequently mixing in public. The latest outbreak will then inevitably force the scuppering of games NZ Rugby can ill afford to be cancelled.
Queenstown is akin to New Zealand's Disneyland, but being cooped up in a bubble away from attractions, restaurants, bars and being asked to commute five hours to Dunedin for night games will have many players privately shaking their heads.
Golf and the odd dip in the lake will offer limited escape.
In Australia, the Western Force have confronted a similar, albeit much less restricted, scenario by being forced to relocate beyond Perth's hard border confines in order to complete at least their first two Super fixtures.
These are the times we live in. A matter of weeks ago few could have envisioned New Zealand's tourist mecca housing all six local teams, but here we are.
