The Rugby Football Union is not exactly unfamiliar with a ruck. In its 140 years of existence there have been endless arguments, most of them dull enough to stupefy even the keenest old fart. Ever since 1895, when 20 clubs from Lancashire, Yorkshire and Cheshire broke away and established what is now the Rugby Football League, few sporting bodies have matched it for internal feuding and chicanery, occasionally interrupted by lengthy breaks for lunch.
This time, though, it has surpassed itself. As things stand the RFU lacks a permanent chief executive and has re‑appointed Rob Andrew to a high‑profile job as professional rugby director only months after he was demoted from much the same position. Its senior team has become a global laughing stock, having now equalled its worst World Cup campaign. Depending on the time of day in New Zealand, its players were either being fished out of tacky nightclubs or Auckland harbour. The RFU is now meant to be deciding whether the team manager, Martin Johnson, should stay or go but no one is entirely sure who will ratify that decision. There is a black hole where the soul of the English game should be.
The simplified synopsis goes something like this: Martyn Thomas, the former chairman, wanted Sir Clive Woodward back at Twickenham. He presumed the union's new chief executive, John Steele, would accept the Woodward scenario. Steele, however, felt the recruitment process was starting to become a fait accompli and decided the job description should be redefined. He was abruptly forced out of office by the pro-Woodward lobby in a coup which attracted such damaging coverage that a review of the whole affair was commissioned.
When the findings of that review, conducted by the high court judge Jeff Blackett, were found to be critical of Thomas, now the acting chief executive following Steele's departure, all hell broke loose. Thomas threatened legal action if the report was publicly released in its entirety. Many saw it rather less as a point of order than a truly breathtaking attempt at self-preservation. It has triggered fresh demands for Thomas to stand down, either voluntarily or as a result of a vote at a special general meeting. More than 100 clubs have signed a motion of no confidence but Thomas's supporters are accusing them of trying to undermine the entire fabric of the union.
Paul Murphy, who is now holding the fort as RFU chairman until July when he will be required to seek re‑election, is in the latter camp. "It is obviously very disappointing that some council members have seen fit to propose an SGM with the sole purpose of removing Martyn Thomas from office. There can be no hiding away from the fact that those council members have put a personal matter above the greater good of the RFU."
He went on to stress the union would shortly be announcing a record turnover and a record profit for the financial year, which just goes to show what a cash cow Twickenham now is, even in a recession. There is, however, always a subtext. Murphy, from Oxfordshire, and the union's latest expensively hired media troubleshooter, the former international centre Jamie Salmon, are desperately keen to pour oil on extremely turbulent waters, all too aware England are due to host the 2015 World Cup.
That is a pressing concern because the increasingly under-pressure Thomas is set to become the chairman of the 2015 organising committee. If he had to give up that particular role it would be an embarrassing and costly blow, although he should perhaps have thought of that before he sought to suppress the Blackett report. Lurking behind the scenes is his old adversary, Francis Baron, who has offered his services in a fire-fighting capacity. If the RFU's former chief executive were to be invited back, it would be like Little Red Riding Hood asking the Big Bad Wolf to pop over and help her sharpen her kitchen knives.
But at the heart of the matter lies Johnson's future. How can it be that Andrew is suddenly the man who will recommend whether Johnson stays or goes? Already he has seen two England coaches depart on his watch, while sidestepping the blame for poor results which Andy Robinson, Brian Ashton and now Johnson have had to shoulder. Surely any decision on the next manager – whether or not Johnson wishes to be considered – should be taken by a rugby-literate panel including several independent members with wide-ranging experience, rather than by individuals who might just have a vested interest?
Thomas, for his part, seemed to imply on Sunday that it is Johnson's own choice whether he stays on until 2015. Eh? Small wonder there is a woolliness in the behavioural guidelines issued to the players if that is how their bosses decide who the next England manager will be. But what happens if Thomas, as his enemies hope, is ousted in the coming days? That would almost certainly trigger a further restructuring of the management board, which has to ratify any recommendation made by Andrew. The latter could then find himself back in the firing line. With a new chief executive unlikely to start before January at the earliest, the RFU decision-making machinery would be utterly paralysed.
It is enough to make England supporters weep afresh. Their national team should be better than it is, as should the structure supporting it. Mediocrity, self-interest and profligacy has been rife at Twickenham for too long. The latest soap opera would be almost amusing if it were not so potentially serious for English rugby. "The day‑to‑day operation of the RFU is not in a mess nor is it dysfunctional and we are all determined to look forward to the future opportunities of RWC 2015," insisted Murphy. We will soon find out if he is right.
