Just 15 years ago, club rugby was – as we say in the trade – “on the bones of its arse,” while professional rugby was sweeping all before it. Bledisloe matches were sold out as a matter of course, and Waratahs matches pulled 30,000 to 40,000, as opposed to the 10 or 12,000 now. Back then club rugby, meantime, was so starved of support that when I called up one of my old clubs, Eastwood, to ask what time their match against Parramatta was on, the secretary asked me, “What time can you get here?” Rugby league seems to have gone through a similar process in recent times, with the strongest crowds turning up to local grounds, while they have been steering away from cavernous stadiums where all the one rabid fan cheering can hear in response is an echo. Loading Have a look at the league on the tele this weekend. If the back-drop is a whole bunch of league nutters cheering wildly as the winger dives over in the corner, you can bet it is a match at Kogarah, Brookie, Shark Park, Leichhardt or the like. If it is a whole lot of empty seats, with a few scattered brave souls here and there, my pound to your peanut says it will be being held at the SFS or Homebush. Why is it so, Julius? I thought you’d never ask. My theory is that it goes with the times. Yes, we are living in an age where we take it for granted that we should be able to watch whoever we want, whenever we want to, even if our teams are playing on the opposite side of the planet. And yes, sport has never been more professional nor more commercial than now, with every moving part covered with logos, every player prepared to within an inch of his life, and all of it available to watch in full living colour from 16 angles, either at the ground or at home, as you like.

Golden days: The Bledisloe Cup Test in Sydney drew more than 109,000 rugby fans to the Olympic Stadium in 2000. Credit:AAP But in terms of pure enjoyment for the fans, how many think that the enjoyment in the stands has matched the growing abilities on the field? How many think the sporting experience is better now than it was then? The growing conclusion seems to be it is not even close. On the fly: The Wallabies could do worse than get the ball in the hands of Israel Folau as often as possible. Credit:AAP In rugby, a growing hunger for the sheer tribalism of days gone by is apparent. We remember fondly when the joy of the game was to see butchers, bakers and candle-stick-makers line up against tinkers, tailors, soldiers and spies. Club rugby feeds that hunger, helped by the fact that it is now on that Channel Seven digital channel, where it producing record rugby ratings for the Shute Shield. The growing popularity of the club game in Sydney seems to be because the grass-roots outfits can’t support a “marketing department,” and don’t deal with “consumers,” or “stakeholders” or demographics. Instead, they’re a “community,” backing, “our blokes,” and they’re getting that vibe, unvarnished, onto free-to-air. Simple as that. And the people have responded accordingly.