Rucks, mauls and scrums

For the last three Saturdays I have been watching rugby. It's a sport which I really don't enjoy or understand, for reasons which will become apparent. I've been entertaining my dear friend Tony, who is a rugby fan when it concerns England or the British and Irish Lions; club rugby, not so much. Unlike me and football, where the club game is everything and England a mere sideshow.

I should clarify: rugby union, as opposed to rugby league. The latter is a game played by Northerners with supporters in cloth caps

the former played by Southern Softies in front of cravat-wearing observers. More on rugby league in due course. For the moment, I shall mean rugby union when I discuss 'rugby'. Played with a strange shaped ball, just to annoy the players when it bounces.

There are some aspects of rugby which can be thrilling. The sight of the backs flinging the ball to each other in a fast sequence which ends up with the winger flying past his (or her; I'm told the fairer sex plays this brutal game) opponent is a sight to behold. However, only a couple of times in the latest three matches did that happen and most of the game is spent with the forwards pushing and shoving each other in a 16-person melee

which is variously described as a ruck, maul or scrum.Basically a war fought with swords, pikes and fists rather than the elegance of the fly half who uses drones and the swiftness of the wingers who use tanks. The scrum half, by the way, is a spy who uses intelligence, cunning and deception.

When the referee awards a scrum, as a result of some misdemeanour that is opaque to the average viewer, our eight forwards bend over and form a kind of fusion of a phalanx and a flying wedge (imagine a Christmas tree on its side),

the opposition does the same and the two groups, still bent over, huff and puff, grapple with and push against each other.

The ball is then inserted in the middle and the two armies compete to backheel it to their fleet-footed compatriots, who then attempt to play proper, running rugby.

The scrum is therefore a formal piece of action; when the two packs (as the forwards are often called) do their shoving against each other during a period of open play, the action is called a ruck. If the ball is one the floor. Or a maul. If the ball is held in one of the forward's hands. And if at least one of our mauling team is bound to at least one opposing mauler. Got it? Are you beginning to see why I find rugby baffling? In each of these three situations there are myriad laws, the breaking of which will lead to a penalty, free kick or another scrum. I told you it would get easier but I lied.

Rugby league solves the scrum problem by basically not having any. Except in rare circumstances, with which I shall not bore you. A situation which, in rugby union, would result in a scrum, results in a simple backheel without an opponent involved. It makes for a much more free-flowing game which is easier for the casual viewer - me - to comprehend.

One thing I do like about rugby is the refereeing. Firstly, they stand no nonsense from the players. In televised international games they have microphones, which means we can hear what they say to the players. Turns out they never stop talking

but it's apparently helpful for the players to know, for instance, that a maul has been formed. They are clear with the players about their reasons for making decisions. It's possible that football referees are too but we don't know because the referees are not miked up. Sadly.

The football season started yesterday. Ipswich Town

(check out the shirt sponsor) were first to earn the "same old, same old" tag as they couldn't keep a clean sheet and only drew at home.

Friday: the Premier League is back on TV; the long summer drought is over.