In defence of rugby lads

It’s fair to say sympathy for university rugby clubs is spread pretty thin these days. A series of recent scandals coupled with general disdain from the student body has done nothing to help these knuckleheads.

They chant, shout and swear. They drink enough lager to kill an African bush elephant. They whip their knobs out just for the hell of it, engaging in naked antics which would make Caligula blush.

Antics can get messy

Amid all this general debauchery, they’ve incurred displeasure from certain quarters, most notably student unions and feminist societies. But I’m going to take the precarious line of defending these lads, because I doubt anyone else will.

I’d just like to state first that I’m in no way a rugby lad. A relatively slender frame and chronic fear of having my head kicked in disallow that. If at school I found myself in the midst of a ruck or maul, I was more likely to curl up like an armadillo than make an attempt to extricate myself through pushing and shoving. Naturally this meant more studs to the legs/back/neck but I managed to avoid getting a hideous cauliflower ear or snagged teste so that was a relief. But this is bye the bye.

I’m more wallflower than cauliflower ear

There have been several incidents of note lately which have called student rugby clubs and by extension “lad culture” to account. In September last year the president of the Edinburgh team had to apologise when three of their players were said to have been chanting “gang rape” and asking female students for Chlamydia tests.

Many will remember the LSE rugby club handing out flyers calling female rugby players “beast-like” and warning members to avoid “mingers”. This story was covered by the Daily Mail and Guardian, ending with them being acrimoniously barred from playing by their union for being “unable to challenge misogyny, sexism and homophobia.” This was last October.

It was late January when the Bristol Uni rugby team were slammed for “smashing plates,” “pissing in the beer garden,” and “naked antics” at their favourite haunt, Roo Bar. In a subsequent email, one of the rugby secretaries ill-advisedly referred to the bar manager as a “hussy” and recommended that “all naked scrums should probably be conducted in the car park arena.”

This kinda speaks for itself

I’m sure anyone with a conscience would agree that calling a girl a “minger” is cruel and wrong. Furthermore, shouting “gang rape” on the street is undeniably offensive and unfunny.

I don’t find their brand of banter amusing. If I pass them in their droves on the Triangle they can expect at best indifference, at worst a sneer of disdain. I don’t find tying your tie round your head rather than your collar particularly classic either.

But the level of contempt directed at these meatheads in articles and comment threads can be staggering. Most seriously, they’re accused of endorsing “rape culture”, as if they’re some muscled amalgamation of bigots rather than a collection of individuals.

I would certainly be offended if I was accused of contributing to sexual assault because once a week I downed several pints, got my tackle out and acted like a prat in the streets with my sports team. Can we view isolated incidents committed by specific persons as demonstrating a shared ethos among university rugby players?

The LSE club was banned from playing for a year. And why? Because of a stupid error, probably carried out by two or three people, which had massive repercussions for those who did nothing wrong and probably loved their sport.

We should be very careful before agreeing to a society where the mere act of causing offense is penalised. Anyone can claim they find something personally offensive – and increasingly SU apparatchiks voted in by about fifteen of their mates are deciding for us. Safe space and no platform policies regularly allow them to indulge in their narrow range of political interests, such as banning “Blurred Lines” from being played or George Galloway and Julie Bindel from speaking.

So are rugby clubs demonised because they’re so gosh-darn evil, or because they don’t pander to the accepted moral standard, as laid out by a minority of student politicos?

Nobody in this picture is evil

And if you hate them for all of the plate smashing, pissing and nakedness, I’d advise you to get over it. If they’re not hurting or threatening anyone, the only person who should care is the proprietor of the place they wreck. Just because they don’t shovel narcotics up their shnoz and dance to Dutch gabber in some rancid cellar of a Wednesday doesn’t make you better.

We’d do well to check ourselves before we condemn them, or one day all the colour and variety will be sucked out of university life.