Do the Hurricanes Poua want our support or not

Rugby, at its best in New Zealand, has always been a uniting force.

It’s taken people of different shapes, sizes, backgrounds, incomes, suburbs, towns and islands and brought them together.

Be they players, fans, administrators, referees or media, they’ve been bonded by a common love for the game and its ability to bring the best out in everyone.

I’ve lived in cities, I’ve lived in towns. I’ve lived in the North Island and I’ve lived in the South Island.

Everywhere I’ve been, rugby has been at the heart of the community.

I think back, particularly, to the decade I spent in what we now call a Heartland Championship union. A place beyond the professional rugby realm, where the rugby club was the literal lifeblood of the town.

This isn’t misty-eyed nostalgia or idealism, this is the reality of grassroots rugby and its place in society.

When I think about what I love most about rugby, it’s this.

I live in Hurricanes country, where the franchise’s chief executive, Avan Lee, is furiously putting out fires, not necessarily of his own making.

I won’t go through the haka performed by the franchise’s Super Rugby Aupiki team or translate its meaning.

I won’t dissect the subsequent comments of Hurricanes Poua captain Leilani Perese either.

But I will note that, in media commitments in the last day or two, Lee has said the Hurricanes’ purpose is “to unite and excite’’ and the Poua have not unified anyone.

Women’s rugby in New Zealand is an interesting one.

I’m not sure New Zealand Rugby (NZR) has done enough to capitalise on the groundswell of support enjoyed by the Black Ferns, on their way to the 2022 Rugby World Cup title.

It appeared as if the nation was ready to embrace the female game like never before and Super Rugby Aupiki was the result.

For whatever reason, the competition has not flourished. Whatever connection there was between the players and the public appears to have waned.

Governing bodies, from NZR on down, are struggling to pay for an addition to the professional rugby scene that doesn’t generate revenue.

Players wanted to be paid. Some weren’t always eager to play. Others went to rugby league in Australia, without relinquishing their ties to rugby back here.

There was a sense of entitlement about it all.

Now, I’ve argued long and loud that more should be done by administrators to foster female rugby. That if the game is to grow, then women’s rugby is an obvious avenue.

I wanted us to be more inclusive and less focused on everything being about the All Blacks all the time.

That might help create a prosperous national men’s team, but it doesn’t do much for the part of the rugby pyramid that I hold most dear.

I believed a legitimate pathway for female players had to be a priority.

I also think I wasn’t alone there.

The Hurricanes Poua haka, which Lee says will not be performed again, is divisive and insulting. It speaks of a level of privilege and grievance that is out of step with the majority of New Zealand society.

Worst of all, it has the potential to turn people off a competition and players in desperate need of our support.

I’ve lived long enough to see times, notably the Springbok tour of 1981, when rugby divided the nation. I’m saddened to see a group of players attempting to do that again.