Forget world rankings, it’s trophies that count

WE hardly needed reminding that football is the world’s game, but the President of the United States could not resist stretching the point by sending the entire planet and its news cycle into a tailspin over a chap by the name of Folarin Balogun, whose 15 minutes of fame would have propelled Andy Warhol into “told you so” land. If professional sport is a form of theatre, this hot-ticket comic production hovered between the absurd and the surreal.

Rugby is no stranger to the realm of the ridiculous, as the administrators’ belief-beggaring treatment of Italy at the last World Cup but one – otherwise known as “typhoongate” – confirmed to anyone blessed with a sense of fair play. There again, 2019 was a rum year all round. Wales, officially rated the 14th best team in international union as recently as a few months ago and struggling to rise above 12th as we speak, found themselves at the head of the global rankings when that tournament began in Japan. Yes, really.

Not for the first time (or, indeed, the last), the rankings system introduced by World Rugby, the non-governing governing body, suffered what Warhol might have called “15 minutes of infamy”. How could anyone equipped with eyes to see and a functioning rugby brain reach the conclusion that Warren Gatland‘s outfit, for all their physical fitness and bloody-mindedness, were the best of the best? Were the rankings MEANT to be funny? What was the point of them anyway?

It turns out that in the wider sporting environment, rankings matter more than you might think. In the immediate aftermath of his victory over Alexander Zverev in last weekend’s Wimbledon men’s singles final, Jannik Sinner went close to giving the “number one in the world” title equal billing with the winning of a Grand Slam tournament, acknowledging the immediate threat posed by his rival. “You’re very close (to the top spot),” he told Zverev. “I have to be very careful now.”

Rugby’s rankings do not guarantee entry into shop-window competitions, as those of other sports do, and there has long been a “who cares?” whiff about them. Back in 2003, the yet-to-be-knighted Clive Woodward loved the idea of England heading into the World Cup as the top-rated team, perhaps because,

World leaders: Wales celebrate the Grand Slam in 2019 on route to topping global rankings

PICTURE: Getty Images

unlike Gatland, he knew the billing was accurate, supported by all the available facts. But Woodward generally did things differently. Most of his successors as national head coach wasted precious little time pondering the subject – or, in the case of Martin Johnson, no time at all.

It is also true to say that in the court of public opinion – or rather, on the pitch of public opinion – rugby’s mathematically-calculated pecking order pales into insignificance when set against the football version. Is this fair? It depends on the particular measures you care to use, but in some ways, the oval ball stacks up against the round one.

If we begin our survey in the early Noughties, when the NGGB first published their rankings, 14

“In 2019, were Wales really the best of the best? Were the rankings meant to be funny?”

countries have made it into the top 10: the eight foundation nations, predictably enough, plus Argentina, Italy, Japan and the three major Pacific Islands unions. Football? Different league, so to speak. Over the decades since FIFA dipped an expensively pedicured toe in these waters in 1992, almost 40 teams have earned themselves a top 10 place, including Bulgaria (who currently occupy position 85, which is quite a slide in anyone’s language).

Yet only eight footballing nations have ever made it to No.1 – Argentina, Belgium, Brazil, France, Germany, Italy, the Netherlands and Spain – and of those, the Dutch were there for the grand total of 28 days. (Nasty thing, altitude sickness, especially when you come from somewhere pancake-flat.) Rugby loses little by comparison here. England, France, Ireland, New Zealand, South Africa and, yes, dear old Wales all know what it is to stand on the mountaintop.

By way of extending the argument, we should remind ourselves than when it comes to actually laying hands on a World Cup, rugby, which has long suffered from the

“usual suspects” brand of criticism, is not notably more predictable than its more popular rival code of football. There have been four different winners of the Webb Ellis Trophy over the course of 10 global gatherings, as opposed to eight in 23 soccer tournaments, including the one that concludes this evening.

As the quadrennial global gatherings in both rugby and football continue along their respective paths of tournament expansion, the importance of rankings will diminish. If everyone gets an invite, there is no obvious incentive to fight for an elevated place in the pecking order. At least in part, this explains the NGGB’s creation of the new Nations Championship. If points mean prizes, what do trophies mean? Meaning, as it happens.

On the other hand, there is something to be said for feeling good about yourselves as an international team – or, come to that, a team of any description. Wales may not have been absolutely convinced by their supposed pre-eminence in 2019, but it didn’t do their self-confidence any harm. They certainly enjoyed it while it lasted.