A Tale of 10 Time Zones

For the first time in living memory the international sporting calendar has undergone mass cancellations and postponements. Where there was once the glorious noise of passionate fans now exists nothing but the silent reminder of a civilisation teetering on the edge of limbo. Super Rugby sits quarantined just short of the halfway point.

It may be trivial to equate the loss of rugby matches to the very real human tragedy unfolding, but is sport not subject to the grandest of hyperbole? Some could argue that sport is comparable to music and philosophy in its impact on the individual as well as the collective. That opinion will be rigorously tested should this break extend past two or three months.

An unfinished season would linger uncomfortably, like a book without the final chapters or a play without the final act. Would Lukhanyo Am and Makazole Mapimpi replicate their Japanese heroics? Would the Crusaders make it an incredible four in a row, or would the Brumbies restore Australian pride? The completion of those story lines rests with the game’s administrators and society’s ability to overcome COVID-19.

Just like in sport, the drama is unfolding before our eyes as we anxiously watch the scoreboard tick over via the news reels. The virus has us on the back foot but as eternal optimists we get the feeling though that the human race is about to recover and pull themselves back into the game. Sooner or later, rivalries will be resumed and grandstands will burst with cheers and laughter; but until then, we sit with the realisation that rugby, and all the other great sports, are simply just games.