'We’re so far behind England and France that we can’t even see how far we’ve fallen'

The first message landed: “What a game!...Thought there’d be more people there!?”

Indeed.

Canada had just pulled off the biggest win in their rugby history by beating the Black Ferns for the first time ever, taking out the Pacific Four in the process. On a freezing, gloomy Christchurch afternoon about 6,000 fans were on hand to witness the world’s second and third-best teams in action, an attendance figure that hadn’t gone unnoticed by rugby friends overseas.

Last weekend, in the final match of the Pac Four, in what was New Zealand’s last of just three home tests this season, a crowd of 7,300 was seen as cause for celebration as the Black Ferns blitzed the Wallaroos at North Harbour Stadium.

That 7,300 is representative of a very loyal fan base that the Black Ferns have built. They call their fans “BFF’s”, have cleverly used the Taylor Swift-inspired friendship bracelets to great effect among young supporters and the “Like A Black Fern” tagline now (finally) comes with merchandise and tangible ways to support the team. The same people show up time and again.

But while that 7,300 is a vast improvement on the horrendous attendance figures of last year’s WXV, it is a long way from the 45,000 who were at the Rugby World Cup final two years ago. That was a special occasion for sure, but somewhere since then the metaphorical ball has been dropped.

There are contributing factors as to why our crowd numbers aren’t coming close to the Northern Hemisphere, and admittedly a few sweeping generalisations to be made.

We have a small population, saturated with sporting events on any given weekend and people now have much more choice in their discretionary spending. Many of our grounds are multi-purpose venues, with average transport links and, in my opinion, mediocre food and beverage offerings where the overall fan experience doesn’t come close to anything I’ve attended overseas. 

By the same token we (I’ll use the royal we as a Kiwi sports fan) expect to park outside the front gate five minutes before kickoff, grab a hot dog and a beer and be in our seats before the first bars of God Defend New Zealand our belted out. Some Kiwi fans can be incredibly apathetic and at times look like they’re at the dentist rather than an entertaining game.

There’s a quid pro quo in here somewhere. We as fans could do better but we also could be offered better; case in point, the long line of people still coming into Waikato Stadium as the Black Ferns kicked off against USA – they’d left their arrival too late but there was also only one set of gates open to let them in. Why do we only open the doors one hour before kickoff?

In the broader landscape, there are other elements at play.

New Zealand media loves pitching rugby union against rugby league. Union has become a whipping boy/girl, league now the “fan favourite”, for a media contingent largely based in Auckland where the country’s one and only NRL rugby league team is domiciled. 

Now that the club will re-enter the NRLW women’s competition next season, the same writers and reporters who’ve barely deigned to lift a pen in coverage of women’s sport have another angle to explore – how many Black Ferns are going to jump ship to the Warriors or other NRLW clubs?

The league versus rugby trope is a bore but if that’s what it takes to get media coverage of both codes for female players then so be it. Yes, rugby players have and will inevitably go to NRLW. The seasons at the moment don’t clash and it’s an amazing opportunity for women to be paid to play regardless of the code.

If we take money and the longer calendar of NRLW compared to Super Rugby Aupiki out of the equation, one reason players anecdotally cite as a carrot in switching from union to league is marketing and hype…and crowds.

People are turning up to watch the league women play; 25,000 fans were in attendance for the opening game of the women’s State of Origin series compared to the 1500 tickets pre-sold for the Aupiki final a few months back.

No one is better at telling you their game and competition is brilliant than the NRL. They make it look like THE place to be and the crowds follow. There is a tribalism which has now filtered into NRLW that New Zealand Rugby lost somewhere a few years ago and is struggling to recapture.

The Black Ferns, and the national sevens teams, have one of the best social media content creators in the world at their disposal. How can the brilliant work of Rachael Whareaitu be better utilized to hype up the players and help turn them into rock stars?

While we’re building hype, how about being able to buy a number 11 jersey with “Vahaakolo” on the back, or having some flexibility in a rule that says three players need to be in every promotion?

I love seeing crowds of little girls with their friendship bracelets and signs being inspired by these players, but it feels like we need to get away from women’s rugby as a constant crusade where we tell people they “should” be supporting, and instead be better at marketing the players’ skills and personalities to a mass audience.

No one went to watch University of Iowa play because it was a nice thing to do, they went to see Caitlin Clark because of her incredible skill and she let her basketball do the talking. 

Have you watched Katelyn Vahaakolo glide past defenders or heard the crunch of a Liana Mikaele-Tu’u tackle? 

What about seeing Canada’s Sophie de Goede make 28 tackles a game and pot a handful of kicks or hearing England’s Marlie Packer rark up her teammates and needle her opponents? Heroes, villains, stories, skill.

New Zealand Rugby is fighting many fires at the moment, but talk to anyone in sporting and media circles and they’ll tell you the sport is in an almighty battle to win, or win back, hearts and minds.

Two years ago, the Black Ferns did both.

For a country that considers itself a leader in the world of rugby, we’re now so far behind England and France when it comes to attendance and promotion of the women’s game, that we can’t even see how far we’ve fallen.