New regulations are no replacement for consistent refereeing

WITH NEW laws, already tested by Scottish clubs last spring, now about to be the subject of experiments in various countries, one sometimes thinks it might be better to apply the present ones more consistently. Nobody denies that the referee's job is confoundedly difficult – though we don't always remember this when decisions go against our team. It's fair to say, too, that referees are as entitled as players to have the occasional bad game. In last weekend's Heineken Cup, Perpig

I didn't see that game, but watching Leicester beat Toulouse 14-9 at Welford Road, I concluded that the Welsh referee Nigel Owens might well be in line for the freedom of the city. Certainly on this showing, Leicester would be happy to take him around with them to every match. I daresay Toulouse also got away with much, but the way in which Mr Owens allowed Leicester to fall on the wrong side of the ball almost every time one of their players took it into the tackle displayed a generous interpretation of the law. Again, his interpretation of the offside line at rucks seemed to suggest he was applying that law as it was in the 1950s rather than as it is today. But then I was hoping Toulouse would win; so my interpretation of Mr Owens' performance may well be biased. It's very difficult to be fair to referees – except, of course, when they make decisions in your team's favour. They are then almost invariably right.

One correspondent, himself an ex-hooker and former referee, asked me recently if I could explain why the law requiring the scrum-half to put the ball into the scrum straight is so seldom applied; so seldom indeed, one may add, that the aggrieved expression on the face of a scrum-half penalised for a squint put-in is almost justified.

After all, he's been getting away with it for weeks. Why pull him up now?

There are perhaps two answers to the question. First, referees tend to focus their attention on the props, to see that they are binding correctly and pushing straight, and are therefore rarely in a position to check the put-in. When did you last see a referee crouching in line with the tunnel between the two front rows? Second, the authorities encourage referees to promote continuity, to keep the game flowing. So, they may think, let's get the scrum over and the ball out as quickly as possible, no matter how it has been put in.

But there's a consequence of this indifference to the law. We older spectators often wonder why we so rarely see a clean heel, with the ball being quickly transferred from scrum-half to stand-off. Instead, the majority of scrums – three out of four at least – now see the No8 picking the ball up and trying to drive over the gain-line. Why? Well, knowing that there is almost no chance of a fair contest between the hookers and a heel against the head, the hooker of the side not putting the ball in will usually not attempt to strike. Instead, he will contribute to an eight-man shove, the intention of which is to disrupt the opposition's heel.

This, too, has a consequence, and a damaging one. When the law was amended to compel back-rows to remain bound until the ball was out of the scrum, the intention was to create more space, and, therefore, opportunity, for the backs. But when the heel is disrupted and the No8 has to pick and drive, this intention has no chance of being translated into action. Instead, when the ball eventually reaches the stand-off, he will find the opposition forwards have already fanned across the field, and the space his backs should have enjoyed doesn't exist. How you resolve this problem I don't know, but insisting the ball be put in straight and thus giving the chance of a heel against the head might help to do so.

One of the experimental laws will see the free-kick replace the penalty for scrum offences. Fair enough, you may say. It's ridiculous that a match may be won or lost by a 50-yard penalty given only because a prop wasn't binding legally. So perhaps it is.

But what will the consequence of such a change be? Props will surely be less concerned about binding legally because conceding a free-kick is far less dangerous than giving away a penalty. Admittedly, this is partly because few teams seem to have any clear idea of how best to use a free-kick. Except on the rare occasions when some alert player – usually the scrum-half – spots a gap, takes a tap and is behind the front line of the defence. Most free-kicks see a forward blunder into the opposition and go to ground. Meanwhile, the defence has time to organise itself, and, more often than not, the sterility of pick and drive follows.

In short, what looks good and fair on paper or in the committee room often works out badly on the field of play. The Law of Unintended Consequences prevails and negates the best intentions of the legislators. In this respect, rugby is no different from politics.