A Sport on the Brink

Rugby League is no different to wider society in many ways. In 2020, all of its plans, both annual and more special have been shelved. The cancellation of these plans are not minor inconveniences but a threat to the sport's existence.

It was planned that Super League would welcome fans back to stadiums from 30 September onwards. Now, there is no return date for fans. In a statement on Tuesday evening, RFL Chief Executive Ralph Rimmer confirmed that the postponement may last throughout the winter. If you have not read the statement in full, here it is!

An advanced warning, it is not good reading. Rimmer revealed that the sport is hemorrhaging £2M per week. To put a more human touch to it, Rimmer warned that job losses in the sport are inevitable. It is hard to conclude anything other that some of our clubs may cease to exist, or at least in their current form.

Rugby League has rallied, as it always does. Fans have en-masse donated the cost of their season tickets, players and non-playing staff alike have taken pay cuts. But this is not sustainable. Whilst fans may donate season tickets, clubs cannot new ones for 2021 until or unless we can guarantee (or close to it) that fans can return in the same numbers as they once did.

By this time of year, clubs are usually launching 2021 season tickets. Revenue streams which were already drying up will shortly reach drought levels. It is impossible to fill such a void without fans attending matches.

Whilst rich in values, our sport has never been rich in monetary terms and probably never will be. We will always be the underdog who punches above its weight in a fight against constant adversity.

This is a source of great pride. But our values alone cannot keep the sport going. In fact, without revenue (or state intervention) no business or industry can survive in the long term. The Government loaned £16M to the sport earlier this year, but with losses already running at £2M per week, this is increasingly looking like a drop in the ocean. 

Any given Sunday (or more recently Friday), you would go to 'the match' and go to 'your spec'. It may not seem important with everything else going on in the world, but we shouldn't trivialise. For 80 minutes, you can forget about anything else and lose yourself in modern gladiatorial theatre.

Sport bonds communities, it is the pride of many towns. It can put a small mining village on a national or international stage. It is a source of friendship, memory, joy, pain and love. Sport cannot be collateral damage to the pandemic.

I remember going to my first ever rugby league game at the age of 7. I remember walking up the steps to the terrace and being open-mouthed with excitement, joy and awe that the pitch and ground I had seen on TV was actually real and it was here before me. I sat on the wall at the front, scarcely believing that these gladiators were in my presence and were not fictional tv characters.

And ever since, rugby league has been central to my life. I've taken time off work around it, planned trips away around it, introduced friends to the sport through it, made friends through it. Where else can you bounce with joy and sing to your voice is hoarse at unscripted action but at a live sporting event?

There is nothing quite like it. And it frightens me that something so central to my life (and so many others) faces such a threat. There are no answers in this blog, just ruminations about an uncertain future. This is a sport and an industry on the brink. We can but hope that one day we will return to stadiums and that there will be a sport to return to. 

And when we do, I and so many others will become their childhood selves again. The wide-eyed disbelief, open-mouthed awe and feeling of excitement in your stomach that was always there before going to 'the match' became routine and taken for granted will return. One day.