Re-imagining the future or re-hashing the past?

In May 2005, the RFL announced a radical overhaul of the professional game in England, with promotion and relegation to be scrapped and a new 'licensing' system to be introduced. This system would be introduced in 2009. It lasted for just six years before the next radical overhaul. Restructures happen so frequently in this sport, it's not worth more than a shrug now.

We've Been Here Before

In 2005, we were told that the new licenses would judge clubs on facilities, attendances, player strength, salary cap compliance / spend and geographical location. Sound familiar?.

In July 2008, 14 clubs were awarded the first ever Super League licenses. Hull FC, Leeds and Warrington were given 'Grade A', Bradford, St Helens and Wigan 'Grade B' and Castleford, Celtic Crusaders, Catalans, Harlequins, Huddersfield, Hull KR, Salford and Wakefield awarded a 'Grade C' license.

In their unsuccessful application, Featherstone were told that Post Office Road required further investment to meet Super League minimum standards and were not awarded a license. 

By comparison, Wakefield were told that despite having a 'limited and old fashioned' stadium, 'the club recognise this and have plans for a new stadium'. They were awarded a license. 

Rugby Union journalist Brian Moore summed it up best: "The criteria upon which it is said the awards were made were multifarious, allowing, depending on your point of view, detailed scrutiny of every aspect of each applicant's case; or to allow the RFL to justify any award it wanted to make."

Unsurprisingly, some who missed out reacted with fury. Leigh chairman Allan Rowley described himself as 'absolutely disgusted' that Celtic Crusaders were awarded a franchise. He blasted the fact that Celtic had fielded 10 overseas players against Leigh earlier in 2008 and said decision makers should hang their heads in shame.

Did Rowley have a point? Celtic relied heavily on overseas players, had a ramshackle stadium and were in their first season in the Championship. Leigh, by comparison, were an established Championship club due to move into an impressive new stadium in 2009, when licenses were to be introduced.

Early in the first license period, in 2009, Salford, St Helens, Castleford, Celtic and Wakefield were warned that they may lose their license in 2012 if their stadium facilities had not improved. As it turned out, nobody was stripped of a license in 2012, despite three of these teams having the exact same facilities. Celtic withdrew their application and went into administration. The RFL's threats were hollow. The clubs knew this.

In an attempt to allay fears of a 'closed shop', the RFL promised that the best performing Championship club would be promoted in 2012. Widnes were deemed to be that side.

That was despite finishing 4th and 5th (twice) in the Championship between 2009 and 2011 and having being in administration just a few years before. The Brian Moore critique rang true once more.

After two rounds of licensing and empty threats to kick sides out of Super League, it was scrapped. With concerns abound about the clubs towards the bottom of the table having nothing to play for, the bar for entering the play offs was lowered too.

Now, 8 of 14 sides took part in the play offs. This led to a farcical situation where sides who had lost more matches than they had won over the course of 27 rounds were given a chance to call themselves champions at the end of the season.

A 2013 RFL policy review confirmed that the governing body's resources were being drained by 'micro-managing' clubs and, as a consequence, commercial opportunities were being missed out on.

The review concluded: "The licensing system does have benefits but they do not outweigh the negative consequences that occur as a consequence of it". The review explicitly pointed the finger at the clubs for the perceived failure: "The responsibility for club performance falls on the management of each club. The RFL should be freed up to improve the commercial and operational performance of the sport".

On the back of this review, the 'Super 8's system was launched. I'll leave it up to you to determine whether the RFL being unshackled from the license system allowed it to improve the commercial and operational performance of the sport in the years that followed.

What Now?

In Rugby League, we have tried every structure going. 12 teams in Super League. 14 teams in Super League. One side promoted and one side relegated. Two sides promoted and two sides relegated. A mini-relegation league with a relegation play off. No promotion and relegation at all. 

There is no other structure that we could try that we have not already tried. So we are now trying a structure that less than 10 years ago, an RFL review concluded was a failure.

Where is the sport now? In a very similar position to where it was before. Attendances are largely the same. Financial security of clubs is largely the same. Public profile is perhaps slightly lower. Facilities are on the whole better. The structure has changed countless times but the sport remains still.

The lesson from the last 25 years is that changing the aesthetics of a league is not a panacea. If you try and build something but are using the same component parts, no matter how many ways you tart it up, you'll end up with a very similar end product.

Have we learned lessons from the past? It appears not. We now seek to re-introduce a licensing system. And what is it that makes us think that there won't be another unholy row when a side like Featherstone are denied a license? Why do we think there won't be threats of legal action and the sport won't eat itself alive over who should be in the top flight?

Of course that will happen. When you introduce a system where the participants in a league are decided based upon subjective criteria and applications heard behind closed doors; anger, frustration, a lack of transparency and allegations of favouritism will fester. 

At the same time, and without a hint of irony, many within the sport ask why our superstars are not household names. There seems to be a blind-spot. We introduce a structure that is dependent on the whim of administrators and pen-pushers rather than about Jack Welsby's and Brodie Croft's and wonder why our player's profiles are so low?

We have a problem. There are more ambitious clubs than there are places in the top flight. At the same time, there are not enough ambitious clubs to fill two leagues. That makes structuring a set of leagues hard.

The debate comes down to what is sport? Maybe even what sport is not. Sport is not a checklist. It's a feeling. It's joy. It's heartbreak. It's having your weekend made or broken by what a bunch of men throwing a ball around a field do on any given Friday or Sunday. Win or lose, it should be a meritocracy.

I'll give an example. On 31st March 2011, Widnes were awarded a Super League license. Television pictures showed Widnes fans sat in a boardroom at the Halton Stadium, cheering as the news was confirmed.

The Sunday before that, Widnes lost 54-16 away to Leigh. The Sunday after, they beat York 76-12 at home. I'd wager that many Widnes fans can recall few if any details of those matches. I'd wager the majority can recall where they were and how they reacted when they got their license.

The system meant that results didn't matter. It didn't matter that Widnes took a hiding at Leigh. It didn't matter that Widnes put the cleaners through York. The feeling of winning or losing a match was insignificant compared to the few words of wooden man from stood behind a wooden podium. Ste Tyrer's 22-minute hat trick against York didn't matter. Less than 22 words from Richard Lewis did.

In 2011, it didn't matter that Widnes lost their final four matches of the season. It didn't matter that they lost 44-4 to Featherstone at home in the final regular round of the season. It didn't matter that they got dumped out of the play offs by Sheffield. They were already promoted.

When the focus of a sport places on-field results as secondary, there's an argument that you cease to have a sport and instead have something closer to Dragon's Den.

I'll never forget the thrill of walking into a match for the first time. The sight of the stadium as you go up the steps. The roar of the crowd. The thundering noise of the collisions. The intake of breath as you witness mind-bending skill. The feeling of shock as a favourite is rumbled by an underdog. A business model, however strong, can never replicate that joy.

The licensing system doesn't allow for underdogs. It allows for the status quo. And a man in a suit reading a list of participants in a league from behind a desk can never replace the uninhibited joy of watching a stand shaking to its foundations as your team gets that last minute winner. 

From 2024, we are to try a system that less than 10 years ago we deemed to be a failure. We will be using almost identical inherently subjective criteria, yet we expect a different outcome. I am yet to see one reason why. The common argument is that the criteria will be more stringently applied this time. Or that we'll stick with it a bit longer. History suggests neither will happen.

I would hope to be wrong. We need IMG to succeed. Regardless of what we think the correct approach is, we need this to work. But if you take a step back, there's no logical reason why we won't be having the same structuring debate in another five years. IMG state that they are re-imagining the future. In reality, they are just re-hashing the past.