Seeing the Wallabies on the weekend inspired many emotions. Pride, joy, euphoria, relief, a certain level of sexual arousal, hunger, etc. But most of all: gratitude.
It was gratitude that predominated, and right now, we all should be expressing simple, humble gratitude. It is thankfulness that should be our overwhelming emotion in this glorious moment.
So let me be the first to say: thank you, David Campese.
We’ve had many occasions to thank Campo in the past. We thanked him for the 1991 World Cup semi-final. We thanked him for the 1984 Grand Slam. We thanked him for his daring against the Lions in 1989 that would’ve worked brilliantly if Greg Martin didn’t have shoehorns for hands.
And now we must thank him more than ever, because in Australia’s darkest hour, he’s come through again. I don’t think it would be too controversial to say that without David Campese, Australia could never have beaten England on the weekend. It’s easy to see that for the current Wallaby side, there are now two eras: Before Campo’s Spray (BCS) and After Campo’s Spray (ACS).
In the BCS era, Wallabies were timorous, cowardly even. They hesitated when the game was there for the seizing. They didn’t go into their shells, because they’d never come out of them. They’d never breathed the pure, bracing air of running rugby, having been raised to believe that the only way to play was to kick at every opportunity, stand flat-footed ten metres behind the advantage line at all times, and politely open doors for opposition mauls.
David Campese of the Wallabies in action during a Rugby Union test match between Wales and the Australian Wallabies at the Millennium Stadium in Cardiff, Wales. Australia won 28-9. (Photo by Getty Images)
But we saw a different Wallaby team against England, didn’t we? And why is that? The coaches were the same, the players were the same – with the exception of Joseph-Aukuso Suaalii, and admittedly it helps to have history’s greatest rugby player suddenly injected into your backline, but he’s still only one man.
So what was the difference? There’s only one possible answer: Campo.
Let’s look at what Campo said.
“They’re getting 60k or whatever to play for the Wallabies – we got £20 a day. We played 18 games on the ’84 tour!” Well, anyone who watched the game at Twickenham will bear witness to the look in the Australian players’ eyes.
It was the look of men who are deeply ashamed of their financial privilege and are wracked with guilt over their pathetic workload. They tore into collisions like men possessed – like men who suddenly realise there are no excuses. A stark contrast to previous games, in which they looked more like men congratulating themselves on hitting it rich. It didn’t help that Rugby Australia gives out a medal each year for the Wallaby with the most prudent investment portfolio. Campese had the courage to say what no Australian coach has: “you are all disgusting rich fat pigs, and you should be ashamed of yourselves.” And it worked.
“We used to counter-attack or, at least, attack from the opposition 22. Now, we maul from the 22. That’s not Australian rugby. We used to attack!” Well, isn’t it a coincidence that the week after Campese said that Australian teams used to attack, suddenly the Australian team started to attack.
Australia’s Len Ikitau (left) and Ben Donaldson celebrate a late try scored by team mate Max Jorgensen. (Photo by Andrew Kearns – CameraSport via Getty Images)
Early in the game you could see Joe Schmidt’s face tighten in anger as he turned to his assistants to rant, “Why are they attacking? I told them NEVER to attack!” At the end of the game, of course, he was all smiles, taking the credit. Don’t bother, Joe, we’re onto you. We know that when they attacked, they were ignoring your instructions, and going full Campo. You can pretend you were the mastermind behind that victory all you like – true rugby people know who lit the fuse.
And while we’re on Kiwi Joe, Campo also said, “And then there’s Joe Schmidt. He has no idea about Australian rugby. He’s a New Zealander. He’s not interested in finding out who we are.” Truer words were never spoken.
For some months now we’ve heard reports from within the Australian camp of Schmidt banning Vegemite from the dressing room and dropping any player who refuses to change his vowel sounds. We’ve wondered who the unnamed backrower was who Schmidt reportedly caned for missing the mandatory nightly screening of Whale Rider.
We’ve been shocked by the oath that every Wallaby player is forced to take when entering camp, swearing that pavlova was invented in New Zealand. It has been clear all year that the team has been a troubled one, their style of play strongly suggestive of men who’ve had their John Williamson CDs confiscated. Finally, on Sunday morning we saw them reminded of who they are – it was the rugby equivalent of a crowd singing along to Khe Sanh.
And then, of course, there’s this: “If you mentioned Greg Cornelsen to these guys, no one would know him”. Well, what do you know: suddenly someone mentioned Greg Cornelsen, and they won. It’s pretty obvious that Joe Schmidt has failed to tell his players who Greg Cornelsen is, and their performances reflected that. Against England we saw what can be achieved by 23 men who know the truth about Greg Cornelsen. And it was beautiful.
I’m not saying all the problems of Australian rugby are fixed. The important thing, right now, is not to get ahead of ourselves. It would be easy for the Wallabies, now that they are the best team in the world, to succumb to complacency. But there are many pitfalls ahead for Australian rugby to look out for. Remember that pride comes before a fall, that holding one’s head too high can make it all the harder to see the Lego piece in the carpet.
Much remains to be done. Firstly, obviously, appointing David Campese head coach. Will it be difficult for him to carry out his duties while also being lead commentator on all television coverage of Wallaby games? Certainly. But then, it was difficult for him to scoop the loose ball up with his fingertips at full speed to cross for a try against Western Samoa in 1994. Difficulty is Campese’s middle name. In more ways than one.
Once Campo is in the big chair, he can get working on practical strategies to ensure the Wallabies, now they’ve reached the top, stay there.
Shoring up Suaalii’s position is first priority – he must not be allowed to return to league under any circumstances. Of course, you say, anyone with half a brain would know that sticking with rugby is the right thing to do. But remember that Suaalii only played his last game of league a couple of months ago, and it takes time for the brain to grow back.
In fact, Campese should lead the charge to sign more league champions to bolster the ranks. Go for Reece Walsh. Go for Hamiso Tabuai-Fidow. Go for Nathan Cleary. Go for every NRL star who looks like he might be suitable for the fifteen-man game. then go for everyone who doesn’t, just to annoy them.
The ideal scenario is one in which the top 50 players currently in the NRL are, in two years, being paid millions by RA just to relax on an island somewhere. It certainly beats the NRL’s plan for a Papua New Guinea team, in which players will be paid millions to completely fail to relax on an island somewhere.
But we must also not neglect the grassroots. David Campese’s appearance in the “running game” advert of 1992 demonstrated how passionate he was about appearing in commercials depicting fake junior rugby teams, and that passion for the kids has never waned. He will no doubt be eager to improve the pathways for young players, ensuring that youngsters are taught the basics from an early age: passing, kicking, entering breakdowns from the side without the referee noticing, pretending to be injured so your teammates can have a breather, knowing who Greg Cornelsen is, etc.
Len Ikitau sets up Max Jorgensen’s match winner, thrilling Campo in clear defiance of Joe Schmidt. (Photo by Julian Finney/Getty Images)
Wallaby greats should be enlisted to visit schools to identify children with exceptional natural talent, and to identify children with no talent at all, and give their phone numbers to rugby league scouts.
There is a lot to be done, and it would be a daunting task if not for the knowledge that David Campese will be in charge, and our lived experience that tells us that there has never been a problem in rugby that Campo did not know the solution to. But for now, let’s just be grateful for what we have, and remember that if Campo had never done anything in his life but make Englishmen sad, that would really be enough.
