The Australian rugby league games in Las Vegas, showcasing the NRL to an American audience, were intended to be the equivalent of a Russian hypersonic missile in the field of sports. It turned out to be the misfiring English Trident of the sporting world instead. A long analogy, perhaps, but one worth exploring in some detail.
The latest Trident launch was only the latest in a succession of failures
The British nuclear programme, Trident, has been aggressively promoted by both major parties of English politics for decades. Portrayed as the sterling silverware of nuclear weapons, Trident was supposed to herald the UK’s arrival as a serious nuclear-capable military power on the world stage.
The latest test, launched at a site off the coast of Florida, was intended to be a demonstration of British nuclear power. Fired from the submarine HMS Vanguard, the missile was supposed to travel 6000 kilometres. It traveled a few yards, then fell back into the water. Senior military officials, including UK defence secretary Grant Shapps, and First Sea Lord Admiral Sir Ben Key, witnessed the debacle.
The previous test of Trident, back in 2016, was a similar disaster.
The test failure of Trident last month was not unusual; there is a long catalogue of failures. Cost blowouts, engineering and technical problems, and long delays all expose the lie that Trident represents the very best in nuclear deterrence. The submarine from which the missile was launched went in for repairs estimated to last three years. The refit took seven years and went millions of pounds over the initial budget.
Another Trident-capable submarine experienced a depth gauge malfunction, diving perilously close to the crush-depth zone. Submarines must be strong enough to withstand water pressures. Luckily, sailors noticed the malfunction and the submarine ascended to safe water depths.
So much for showcasing post-Brexit Britain’s national resurgence.
The NRL in Las Vegas was an exercise in hubris and futility
In Sydney, the land where the NRL is a secular religion, badmouthing the rugby league is akin to waving a red rag to a bull. The NRL’s legion of fans, worshipping the thuggish brutality of the game, take out their venom on those who would sully the reputation of the league. No, I am not dismissing the entertainment value of the game, or the physical fitness of the players, but trying to get Americans interested in it has been attempting before, on numerous occasions. The results were underwhelming, to say the least.
The Las Vegas games, while undoubtedly entertaining, failed to make much of a dent in the American market. Lukewarm is the best adjective that can be used to describe the reception of NRL football in the US. No expense was spared to promote rugby, and no doubt Peter V’landys and Andrew Abdo, the NRL chiefs, were thinking about anticipated revenue streams from the Las Vegas launch.
Nick Tedeschi, writing in the Guardian, notes that while V’landys is a visionary for taking the NRL to America, there is a long and disappointing history of rugby forays into the EL Dorado that the US allegedly is. At least since the 1920s, numerous rugby promoters have taken the game into the US, with only modest success. The Americans have the NFL, the basketball, and NASCAR to be getting on with, so interest in an Australian import is moderate at best.
It is not only the fact that TV ratings were poor for the NRL double-header in Las Vegas. The American audience has proven resilient to the vaunted charms and spectacle of NRL. In the 1950s, Australian rugby executives tried to take the game to the United States. That was at best a moderate success.
In 1987, the regular display of brawling parochialism, the State of Origin, was played in California. That match, attended by Australian expatriates exercising this insular ‘NSW versus Queensland’ feud, failed to make a dent.
In this latest misfire in Las Vegas, the NRL incorporated the efforts of Russell Crowe, football fan, part owner of the South Sydney Rabbitohs and gladiator fantasist. Intoning sonorously in a YouTube promotional video, Crowe informs his American audience that in the NRL, no helmets or padding are used.
That is all well and good – American football tries to reduce the bloodletting and violence with tactics; in the NRL, tempers fraying is encouraged, and thuggish brawling is lauded as entertainment. Peter Mitchell, journalist and resident of the US for 25 years, states that Americans just don’t care about the NRL.
The Las Vegas venture was great for Australian and New Zealander expatriates. We Australians find it hard to accept that Americans are simply unimpressed by a sport that we love so enthusiastically.
To return to the original analogy; the NRL in Las Vegas misfired just like the Trident launch. For an example of a successful missile, look no further than the Russian hypersonic Kinzhal (Dagger).
Rather than spend exorbitant amounts of money attempting to expand into a market indifferent to the NRL, let’s clean up the multiple scandals and toxic culture that plague Australian rugby league until today. Misfires, whatever field they occur in, are an opportunity for reflection. If a venture does not work out, try a new direction.