It has been rightly said that we learn more from defeat than from victory. This is why Australian rugby players are the best educated in the world, while South African ones are laughably ignorant.
But are we learning the right things from our defeats? And what are the right things anyway? Some would say the most important thing to learn from a defeat is how to win, but that seems shortsighted. If all we learn is how to win, then how will we keep learning, given that losing is how we learn? I’d like to think that as Australian rugby fans and/or mourners, we have loftier goals than crude “victory”.
But the Wallabies definitely did learn a few things from their second loss to the Springboks. For example, they learnt that Noah Lolesio Is Not The Answer. Many will claim they already knew this – indeed, “Noah Lolesio Is Not The Answer” is now the most-used phrase on the internet, just ahead of “Big Naturals”, which I think is the local nickname for the South African front row.
Noah Lolesio of the Wallabies looks on during the men’s International Test match between Australia Wallabies and Wales at Allianz Stadium on July 06, 2024 in Sydney, Australia. (Photo by Jason McCawley/Getty Images)
But if we thought Noah Lolesio was Not The Answer before, we’ve definitely learned it now. But then, it all depends on what the question is, doesn’t it? Noah Lolesio may not the be the Answer to the question, “who among the current crop of Australian playmakers can fulfil the wildly unrealistic expectations of fans?” But then again, he may well be the Answer to the question, “who among the current crop of Australian playmakers is hated with the burning fury of a thousand exploding suns by fans?”
Which just goes to show that what answers we get depend heavily on what questions we ask. The Springbok Test brought us no closer to answering the question, “How the hell do we turn this nightmare around?” but it may have gone some way to answering the question, “How many drinks are needed to stop me being able to feel emotions?”
So maybe the problem with Australian rugby right now isn’t the answers we’re getting, but the questions we’re asking. We’re constantly asking questions like “how can we build a tight five capable of competing with the best in the world?” and “What do we need to unlock the defences of top-ranked international rugby teams?”
Yet we hardly ever ask questions like “How can this team best serve the community?” and “What sort of example can players set for young people in regards to good manners and environmental awareness?” If we asked questions like this, maybe we’d be less obsessed with the performance of the Wallabies on the field, and more impressed by their work in tree-planting schemes and reading to the elderly.
Which is not to say that on-field performance is irrelevant. There wouldn’t be much point in having an Australian rugby team if they didn’t, from time to time, play what could in a strictly technical sense be called rugby. I’m not saying they should give the game up. Well, not all of them. Obviously some of them should. We all know which ones. No need to mention names.
What I’m saying is, if we adjust our goals, and if we adjust our markers for success, we can be winners without actually having gotten any better at anything. It worked for me when I adjusted my life’s ambition from “become independently wealthy and respected in my profession” to “have anonymous internet commenters call me an idiot”, and my self-esteem has never been higher.
So I suggest that, for the rest of The Rugby Championship and beyond, Joe Schmidt emphasise to his charges that the goalposts have moved, and that instead of the intense focus on winning, they are now going to judge success or failure on more realistic terms. And I suggest we, as fans, all do the same.
Let us no longer, for example, judge the forward pack on its ability to win the set piece. Let’s instead look at whether the Wallaby eight are enjoying the game. Let’s mark our piggies not on scrums won or lost, but on smiles and silvery laughs. I’d like to see the Wallaby coaching staff throw out their stats sheets and simply survey the pack after each game to find out how much fun they had, as judged by the simple expedient of circling a smiley or frowny face.
(Photo by Brendon Thorne/Getty Images)
Likewise, whoever plays flyhalf – and yes, we already know that Noah Lolesio Is Not The Answer, but we have to face the possibility that nobody is – should not be judged on passing, kicking or running ability, but on whether they are good company or not. If both teammates and opposition can end a Test match saying they would genuinely like to spend more time with the No. 10 and get to know him better, that’s a win in my book, and hopefully in Joe’s.
And why on earth do we fixate on the objectively unimportant matter of points scored or conceded, when there are far more significant measures to record? After every game it seems the whole rugby community frets over the attack not being able to score enough points, or the defence not being able to prevent them, and it just upsets everyone.
Why not tell the team from the start that our attack will be judged not on scoring power, but general presentation and grooming, and the defence will be judged on punctuality? Then, as long as players dress well and have good hair, they’ll get the boost of knowing they are considered an elite attacking force; and nobody will feel bad for missing a tackle as long as they arrived at the tackle at roughly the right time.
All this is in aid of a much higher goal than becoming a top-ranking rugby nation. It’s about becoming a rugby nation that feels good about itself. And let’s face it, trying to do that by winning matches has been a dead end for years.
