Concussion and the slow demise of contact sport

contact-sport-concussion
Image: John Hain, www.pixabay.com

As you might know, one of my unlikely ‘hobbies’ is watching rugby league games on television. It’s as exciting as things get around here, especially if your team is winning. Once or twice a year we go to a live game (at least $100 admission for two).

The technology used to televise contact sport has led to a level of live scrutiny the game has never known before. Back in the day you could tackle someone and give him a ‘facial” (mashing your forearm into his face), and if the referee didn’t see it, you got away with an unsporting, illegal ‘dog act’.

The advent of The Bunker (a small team of referees armed with the technology to forensically replay on-field incidents), has changed the game forever. There is only one referee, and he/she can’t be in all places at once. That is why the Bunker alerted the referee to an incident last week where Parramatta Eels forward Reagan Campbell-Gillard slid his knees into the back of Titans hooker Chris Randall (who was already on the ground). It didn’t look good and the player on the ground was in apparent agony.

Campbell-Gillard was sent to the ‘Sin Bin’ and later suspended for four weeks over a grade three dangerous contact charge.

Repeated replays of such incidents prompt mothers (and fathers) around Australia to say, ‘no son of mine is playing that brutal sport.’ Then they sign them up for under-12s soccer, even though 22% of injuries in the round ball game are concussions.

Australia can’t be too far away from a class action brought by former contact sport players for whom repeated head injuries have left a legacy. There have been a few individual cases brought in Australia. Former Newcastle Knights winger James McManus eventually settled out of court after suing the National Rugby League (NRL).

One does wonder how much longer contact sports like rugby league and rugby union can be justified when there is so much evidence to show what repeated head trauma can do to an individual.

Research published in the British Medical Journal canvassed the extent of head injuries/concussions and the risk of under-reporting. The research found that 17.2% of Australian rugby league players suffered a concussion in the previous two years and did not report it to the coaching team or medical staff. About 22% of NRL first grade players admitted to not reporting at least one concussion during the 2018 and 2019 seasons. The most common reason was the player ‘not wanting to be ruled out of the game or training session’ (57.7%) and ‘not wanting to let down the coaches or teammates’ (23.1%).

Rugby league has changed immeasurably since I first started watching the game in the 1980s. Many rule changes occurred, technology worked its way into the game and now, it seems, an entire game is played with player welfare a priority. Back in the day, players commonly used their shoulders to tackle an opponent, usually resulting in the foresaid opponent being concussed and having to leave the field. Players who led with their shoulders inevitably spent time off the field having shoulder reconstructions. Even now, when shoulders are much less utilised than they were, it is not unusual to find a player in his mid-20s who has had two or even three reconstructions.

The shoulder charge is not the only banned ‘tackle’. There is the crusher tackle, the hip drop, third man in and any tackle involving contact with the head. The latter usually ends with a player being sent to the ‘sin bin’. This means the team is a man down for 10 minutes. This commonly leads to the good teams putting on 10 or even 20 points in the period where they have a numerical advantage.

You’d have to ask why rugby league players persist with high contact tackles which sports administrators have agreed are dangerous. At times it seems malicious. True, you might get sent off for 10 minutes, but the bloke you tackled into oblivion is going off for an HIA (head injury assessment) and will not return to the field. The player in the sin bin, perversely, is allowed to return to the field.

Since the tightening of concussion rules in 2016 a few players have retired prematurely because of repeated concussions or ‘head knocks’ as they were once known.

Many instances of high contact are accidental, such as head clashes (at times with your own teammate’s head). Others come from fatigue – the opponent has already beaten you, but you instinctively throw your tired arms up and hit him around the throat, chin, and head.

The NRL, the professional body which administers the game, has in recent years initiated a range of measures designed to protect players from repeated head injuries.

Any contact with the head, be it an accidental head clash, a careless or deliberate high tackle or the unconscious player’s head hitting the ground is reviewed. The Bunker can intervene and order a player off the field to be assessed by an independent doctor.

Typically, the injured player goes off for a mandatory 15-minute HIA. The player may pass the test and return to the match, but more often if it is graded category two or three the game is over for that player. If the contact is deemed serious he may be banned from playing for several weeks.

Some players seem prone to head injuries and in recent years there have been plenty of premature retirements. In the UK, law firms are leading two court challenges, one against World Rugby and another against the promoters of rugby league in England. In all there are some 350 former players involved, all alleging that the sports’ governing bodies failed to protect them from concussion and non-concussion injuries. They allege that these injuries caused various disorders including early onset dementia, chronic traumatic encephalopathy, epilepsy, and Parkinson’s disease.

Despite an older study reporting that 23.2% of parents discouraged their children from playing rugby league, about 480,000 Australian adults, juniors and school children are engaged in the sport.

Speaking of school children (about 30,000 are involved in school programs every year), many will have reached adulthood thinking that sports betting is all part of the game. Sports betting has been legal in Australia since 1983. Lately there is much talk about placing constraints on the industry’s saturation advertising. So far the controversy has led to preposterous warnings after sports betting ads about the dangers of gambling addiction.

Gambling ads are a genuine issue given that NRL games were watched by 119 million viewers cumulatively over the 2022 season, an average of 620,000 viewers per game. The 53% increase in viewers on Channel Nine is reflected in a similar rise on Foxtel, with most games attracting 50,000 to 60,000 viewers.

The choice of betting types is large and varied. Punters can bet on the outcome of league games with novelty bets thrown in: first (and last) try scorer and in big games, man of the match, exact score, and exact winning margin. You cannot yet bet on which player will go off for an HIA, or which player will be sin binned, but never say never.

Australians have bet on stranger things.

More reading https://www.aans.org/Patients/Neurosurgical-Conditions-and-Treatments/Sports-related-Head-Injury

 

Watching footy

(Tigers game at Leichhardt Oval – photo by Scott Brown https://www.flickr.com/photos/kodamapixel/

Did you know Australians will bet on which of two flies crawling up a wall will get swatted first? Yes, and they bet on cockroach and toad races too, and horses, dogs, the toss of a coin and football games. Fond as I am of a punt at major racing carnivals, I have never had a bet on the outcome of a footy match, even though we follow rugby league fairly closely. It just never occurred to me to try to win money predicting which team will win or who will score first.

Apparently you can still get odds of $2.50 about the North Queensland Cowboys beating the Brisbane Broncos (favourites) in the NRL grand final on Sunday.

One of life’s simple pleasures − watching footy on a Sunday afternoon− has been overrun by a bewildering range of options, few of which will ever recapture the bonhomie of afternoons spent sitting on the hill drinking tinnies and booing the referee. I tried to recapture that lost innocence in a song, Watching Footy, where I ponder, “Does anyone remember when we had no unemployment and inflation was what happened to a hot-air balloon?”. In the New Zealand of my youth we’d set our alarm clocks and get up at 3am to listen on an unreliable shortwave radio to the All Blacks playing Wales at Cardiff Arms Park. People would be late for work or school and be forgiven, as can only happen in a sports-mad nation.

Uber-marketing in sports

Those of us who love watching rugby league today must endure delayed telecasts stacked with advertising, cross-marketing and peripatetic commentary, or go to a live game. Games are usually held at night, under lights. Going to a game typically costs $150 for two people, by the time you take in the cost of tickets, transport, a couple of beers and a pie or two. Little wonder southern NRL teams are playing to half empty stadiums as fans save their pennies for the State of Origin or the rare “double-header”.
It’s a different story when you get to the pointy end of the season and teams are playing off for the grand final; 50,388 footie fans (about 2.5% of Brisbane’s population), packed in to Suncorp Stadium on September 12 for the semi-final between the Cowboys and the Broncos.
The vast majority of footie fans watch the game at home on their big screen TVs. You get the best view of the game without the noise and distractions like people pushing along the aisle, spilling beer on your shoes.

Watch out, here come the advertisers

The advent of “broadcast rights” has dragged footie fans into the vortex of cross promotion, where Channel Nine’s Friday night football commentary frequently promotes the network’s next series.
The commentators try hard to dress this up as conversational asides: “I can’t wait for The Block to start, can you?” At the ground, punters are regaled with sponsor’s advertising and all of the razzmatazz that has basically been ripped off from American gridiron – mascots, cheer leaders, pennants, signet rings, half-time interviews with panting, sweating players, referee-cam, spider-cam and so on.
When you dig down underneath all of the bullshit, the game is better than ever – fast and furious, the players bigger, faster and fitter than ever before. While the television commentary can be infuriating (‘Do you think players should have their socks up or down, Rabbits?’), the camera work just keeps getting better, as does the technology that allows veteran experts like Darren Lockyer or Andrew Johns to walk us through set moves that led to tries.

Paying the bills

Not that we should go back to the days when amateur footie players broke arms or legs and spent months off work with no compensation. My late brother-in-law, a more than handy rugby union player in his day, asked my sister for fifty cents before he set off for the afternoon game one day. Apparently this was to pay for insurance, to cover the reasonable likelihood that he might literally become a one-armed cabinetmaker, in which case insurance would prevent the family from starving as he was recuperating from injury. Most of the bills today are paid by television rights, the betting percentages trickling back to sporting organisations, and by sponsors. Sponsorship in rugby league is a relatively new phenomenon – in 1976 Easts was the first rugby league team to have a sponsor’s name on their jerseys (City Ford). The first commercial sponsorship of competitions in Australia was not introduced until the 1980s, with the Winfield Cup. In the UK, the brewer Joshua Tetley and the cigarette company Players were the first sponsors in 1971-1972. The game has been televised since 1961, so you’d have to say they were all a bit slow off the mark seeing the potential audience for fast food, beer, fast cars and other products aimed at a primarily young male audience.

Sports betting takes hold
Footytab, largely an industry attempt to shut down illegal betting, which had been an open secret since the game began in 1908, started in 1983. The official totalisator version of services offered through the TAB offers three different bets: “Pick The Winners,” “Pick The Margins,” and “Pick The Score”.
Online betting has taken hold in Australia, with smaller bookmakers swallowed up by the big UK operators, Ladbrokes and William Hill. A visit to the latter’s website is a revelation – you can bet on 25 different categories of sport, state and federal elections and some financial markets.
In 2013, bookmakers were being threatened with federal intervention as a result of a public outcry over the barrage of betting updates on TV during live rugby league matches. As Charles Livingstone of Monash University wrote in The Conversation last month, bookmakers agreed to self regulate, promising not to promote odds during games. But since then, the number of betting ads has increased massively.
While poker-machine gambling is still the biggest game in town, Livingstone says sports betting is growing in popularity. Poker machines soak up $11 billion of the $20 billion Australians lose every year on lawful gambling activities. He estimates that sports punters will lose around $750 million in 2015-16, based on a seven-year pattern of trends. And while AFL (grand final on Saturday), is still referred to by league fans as ‘aerial pingpong’  it consumes the biggest share of sports betting.

Reverend Tim Costello summarised the more serious problem with sports betting in a 2011 article in The Monthly.
“There’s no question that if the bets get big enough, people will start throwing games,” Costello said.
“While gambling is a part of life, there’s a vice dimension that drops, compromises and changes what should be family and children’s passions.’’

Someone’s spending my share

The Productivity Commission’s 2010 report showed that while 70% of Australians indulge in some form of punting, for most this is an occasional or weekly Lotto or scratch casket ticket, representing a small proportion of betting turnover.
When gambling is extended into clubs and casinos, with poker machines, gaming tables and electronic gaming, participation is higher and so is turnover.
The Productivity Commission found that 600,000 Australians play the pokies at least once a week and 95,000 are problem gamblers. (They contribute 40% of the cash put through poker machines. About 115,000 Australians are classified as ‘problem gamblers’ with a further 280,000 people at ‘moderate risk’).
Naturally enough, those engaged in spruiking the business of sports betting offer a time-honoured disclaimer.
As one footy commentator used to say (before someone corrected him):
“Most importantly, bet responsible.”