Doctors and nurses

This week we will be mostly concerning ourselves with doctors and nurses…

Welcome to Loose Pass – our weekly assortment of disjointed thoughts. This week we will be mostly concerning ourselves with doctors and nurses…

It's the end of October, which can mean only one thing: mounting injuries across Europe and concerns raised over the ever-expanding size of the professional rugby player.

The same crisis comes around as often as Halloween, but it does seem as if we have now exceeded some sort of critical mass. England, for example, will be without more than a dozen senior players for the November Test series.

Yes, players are getting bigger and faster, of that there is no doubt. But they are also getting fitter, and they can rely on the sort of support that would be absolutely alien to the players of yesterday. Swarms of medics, physios and other assorted technicians put players back together far faster than a bag of frozen peas ever did.

And yes, players are forced to play more games, but the world's elite squads are notching up less hours than they did but a few seasons ago.

So what's going on? Why this explosion of injuries? Why now?

Could it be something to do with the ELV that escaped the cull? There's now an extra ten metres between players not involved in scrums, and simple physics dictates that impact velocity is greatly increased when two opposing projectiles are allowed to reach their maximum speed before colliding.

Not all injuries occur in the first phase following a scrum, of course, so we must be looking at a combination of factors.

That England's clubs continue to be the hardest hit tells a story in itself: their quintessential brand of attritional rugby tends to keep doctors working through the night.

One could argue to the same sort of game is prevalent in South Africa, but when was the last time you saw a Springbok side shorn of more than, say, four of its top names? Never. They have the good sense to spare the horses.

So we're back to too much rugby and the reliance of muscle and the 'hit' over conditioning and dynamism.

Those that govern the English game have promised to monitor the injury stats, which means there are no immediate plans to reduce the number of games played by top players (that would hit revenues, damnit).

But this needn't be reason to despair. One of rugby's great attractions is its ability to evolve, and coaches are beginning to realise that they have more use for players who can think their way out of a tight spot and live to play another day than those contact junkies who spend more time strapped to a medical plinth than on the pitch. Survival of the fitness, in other words.

The world's better players are all versed in Darwin's central theme. Perhaps the first step would be to have them share their knowledge with some of the so-called “gym monkeys”.

Take Brian O'Driscoll, for instance. He started out as a mere slip of a lad and bulked up as those around him did. But he never surrendered his natural ability for muscle mass. What's more, he uses his head for thinking, not for knocking lumps.

Jonny Wilkinson learned the hard way that good defence doesn't need to be about the big hits. He's now less gung-ho in contact and believes himself to be playing the best rugby of his life, not least because his new approach allows his limbs to play more regularly.

The same goes for the likes of Matt Giteau, Dan Carter and Richie McCaw. All magnificent players, but where are the big hits and bullocking runs? Their prudence on the ball and in defence allows them to be involved in more games – and it is practice that makes perfect, not gym and rehab.

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All that said, it would be sad to see the back of the 'big hit' – it's part of parcel of rugby.

Check out this recent effort from the Currie Cup. Mother wouldn't like it, but it's the sort of moment that defines a game, perhaps even a season.

Fabulous hit, cracking technique, and it's great to see Fourie Du Preez acknowledge the hit with a grin (well, grimace!) and Schalk Burger tipping a cheeky wink towards his fellow Bok.

But what if it had gone wrong – even slightly wrong? What if the hit had ridden up towards the scrum-half's head?

Tricky stuff. No wonder administrators are struggling to come up with acceptable answers. We wouldn't want their job for all the beer in Belgium.

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With so many tin-pot trophies in circulation – the Prince William Cup, anyone? – it was magnificent to see the unadulterated joy of Southland as they hoisted the Ranfurly Shield for the first time in 50 years.

New Zealand's famous Log o' Wood is all that a sporting trophy should be: ancient, beloved, steeped in history and governed by a quirky set of rules. That the Stags wrestled it off mighty Canterbury makes the story even sweeter.

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From the sublime of New Zealand rugby to the ridiculous. Graham Henry's decision to reshuffle his cabinet seems to confirm what we've suspected for a while: the man thinks he's prime minister.

In a bid to help invigorate the All Blacks, Henry has switched himself from defence to forwards coach, moved Hansen from forwards to backs, and Wayne Smith from backs to defence.

It's probably mean-spirited of us, but would it not be great to see the rejig bite him in bum? The comedy potential is off the scale. “Right, lads. First things first: forget what anyone else has ever taught you…”

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Watched 'Living with the Pride' yet? Surely the best line goes to Ugo Monye in his role as Deputy Front Of Bus Announcer.

Warning the squad of the potential dangers that await in Cape Town, he turns to the official bumf and reports of “a recent increase in drug-related violent crime”.

“We should be okay on that front,” assures the Quin. “We've only brought along one Bath boy.”

Compiled by Andy Jackson