The PR people at Murrayfield had a great idea for Kelly Brown’s restoration as captain of Scotland on Tuesday. Let’s bring out the flag.
A very large Saltire, billowing in a spring wind, was produced for players to brandish. So photogenically did the flag flutter that one almost expected Alex Salmond to bounce out of the bushes on the Murrayfield back pitches to personally endorse the decision to give Kelly the captaincy back. Sadly this was a perfect FEFO (Fat Eck Foto Op) missed.
But it was an example demonstrating the great symbolism that goes with being a sporting captain of your country. Especially so in rugby, as the skipper is the conduit by which almost all flows, not least the cordial discussions with whichever referee we’re assigned (Chris Pollock of New Zealand this week, by the way). Even the traditional eve-of-match training session at the venue for the game is universally known across the game as “The Captain’s Run”.
In just about every Scotland match when the skipper is replaced, a media person will always ask who took over the job, no matter how briefly. In Rome when Greig Laidlaw departed Chris Cusiter did not just offer a somewhat swifter and more accurate service to Duncan Weir – crucially in the end – but he did so as captain.
In November Sean Lamont was Scotland’s captain. Just for 10 minutes, mind, and Sean always among the plain speakers of the camp was slightly nonplussed when asked at 1) being captain for 10 minutes and 2) anybody really being that interested. Turns out he didn’t think that wingers should be captain as a general rule, mostly on account of the 30 yards they have to run to question the ref.
The last two head coaches of Scotland, Andy Robinson and Scott Johnson, haven’t really regarded the issue of Scotland captain with much significance at all, whatever his position as “face of the rugby nation.”
Robinson for a while switched them game-to-game, and at one point even had Cusiter and Mike Blair as co-captains. Al Kellock went to the last World Cup as captain and ended up playing in just two games.
Every time Robinson was asked about the captaincy, he referenced the “leadership group” of senior players who apparently drummed out decision-making by committee.
That group is of less importance now, but Johnson has similarly tried to downplay the captaincy. He continually derides the notion of “Churchillian speeches” and has often compared them to his wife speaking too much; “after a while, you just tune out”.
There’s nothing wrong with liking leaders by example, and Kelly Brown is one such character. But at the start of this season Johnson appointed Kelly as skipper knowing full well that he might have to drop him.
In the end, because of the highly questionable policy that Kelly would play at 7 or nothing, the axe fell after only one game. Johnson felt able to do this and to make this week’s complete U-turn – because, like Robinson, he doesn’t give the captaincy any particular symbolic significance.
They might have a general point; there are several “captains” within the current squad. Jim Hamilton runs the lineout, Ryan Grant is the de facto pack leader. Greig Laidlaw is the general, although Duncan Weir is muscling in on that territory, as every decent 10 must do. Lamont, by virtue of his 85 caps, is the senior presence in the backs, doubling as chief of banter and needling.
Robinson eventually changed tack after his early plans to do the traditional thing the captain as an automatic choice. When Kelly got inconveniently injured his pick was Ross Ford, who has swiftly made himself an un-automatic choice. So maybe he was right first time.
Sometimes the best skippers are chosen for plaintive reasons. Martin Johnson, perhaps the most notable rugby captain of modern times certainly in the Northern Hemisphere, never skippered a senior team until Ian McGeechan and Jim Telfer picked him for the job prior to the 1997 Lions Tour of South Africa.
Their reasoning? He was their biggest guy and would “fill the doorway” showing the Lions wouldn’t be intimidated. Watch “Living With Lions” again and the big speeches are made by Keith Wood captain of Ireland at the time – not Jonno.
The public and media put huge stock in the captaincy. But in the professional era, the worth of it seems to be primarily PR and fulfilling childhood dreams rather than the serious business of successful rugby.