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Rugby has proud history of overcomplicating its lawbook

An artist's depiction of one of the earliest games of rugby at Rugby School. Getty Images

Only this confusing pastime otherwise known as rugby union could boast a 241-page book devoted to the endless changes to its laws. And that book by Admiral Sir Percy Royds entitled 'The History of the Laws of Rugby Football' was written way back in 1949.

If Sir Percy's book was republished now, and updated to include the law changes and variations that have been adopted over the past seven decades, the book would probably be at least a three-volume set. As for the largest section of the 1949 edition, 49 pages devoted to scrummaging, that would now be in the hundreds. Such is the ever-evolving, ever scrutinising nature of rugby.

While the laws of many sports remain virtually the same year in, year out, rugby administrators love nothing better than fiddling about with the fine print of their law book in a bid to improve the game. Many changes have worked, but some have made it more of a mess, and more of an opportunity for the referee to become a constant on-field meddler.

Further changes to the law are inevitable after the brouhaha in recent weeks over kickers taking quick conversion shots at goal so that referees, who may have doubts after originally allowing the try, cannot go to the television match official (TMO) to review the play, and possibly overturn the decision.

Finally, a loophole has been found that at last quickens up play, after so many roadblocks have been put in the way to make the game flow, such as endless scrummaging resets and the now overbearing influence of the TMO, who almost appears to believe his duty is to question every refereeing decision.

Now the game has become as infuriatingly stop-start as a novice at their first automobile driving lesson.

But as the referees and TMO love being the eternal ruler, the law is bound to be changed to stop quick conversions- because it will cut back the amount of times they can either see themselves on the big screen, or are heard in the television coverage. Yes, like the players and coaches, referees and even TMO's have healthy egos.

To be either, you also need to be able to digest and remember an enormous amount of information, especially as the latest Australian edition of the rugby law book comes in at 211 pages. In those pages are plenty of excuses for a referee to really mess a good game up.

This is nothing new. When you delve into the good Admiral's extensive 'The History of the Laws of Rugby Football' you discover the game's administrators have been long-time party poopers.

Originally rugby was a merry affair, with the good Admiral explaining in the Foreword that in the mid 19th century 'the Laws were very brief.'

"In 1855, one writer on football in Scotland stated, 'It was not a bad game; the greatest beauty of it was that there were no rules."

But unruly behaviour which saw 'broken shins, broken heads, torn coats and lost hats' changed all that.

By 1866, the 'Laws of Football played at Rugby School' included that 'no one wearing projection nails, iron plates or gutta percha on the soles or heels of the players boots or shoes were allowed.'

Buckles and rings were barred in 1899.

Hacking away at opponents, especially at each other's shins during a scrummage, was common, but eventually was policed after one match report stated: "The champion hack of one side coming through the scrummage finished off his triumphal march by place kicking a half-back right off his feet."

In 1862, Blackheath used a set of Laws, including that: 'Though it is lawful to hold a player in a scrummage, this does not include attempts to throttle or strangle, which are totally opposed to the principles of the game."

Another law stated: "No player may be hacked and held at the same time, and hacking above or on the knee or from behind is unfair. No player can be held or hacked unless he has the ball in his hands."

The British newspapers weren't impressed, even demanding that Parliament abolish the game as it was a 'mixture of hacking, scragging, gouging and biting.'

Slowly but surely the administrators have over the decades been able to sanitise the game, even though there is still the occasional Neanderthal act, such as Jaguares back-rower Leonardo Senatore a few days ago being slapped with a 10-week ban for chomping on Sharks forward Keegan Daniel.

While on beastly acts, the laws have even been used to dispute the participation of animals in matches. The Admiral cites the example of an 1886 match between Victoria (Portsmouth) and Trojans (Southampton) where the ball hit a dog in the in goal, and from the rebound off the pooch Victoria scored.

The Trojans protested to the local Rugby Union that the dog was a spectator, and the ball should have been ruled dead. However, the Rugby Union decided that the dog was not a spectator, and so the try stood.

And for a long time, the lawmakers showed little regard for an injured player. In 1901, the International Board in a circular to players and referees stressed: "In the event of a player being injured the game shall not be stopped for more than three minutes."

In 1922, Scotland proposed that a stoppage for an accident should not exceed a minute. This was not adopted, but a Note was added: "This allowance of three minutes is the maximum and not the minimum time and should only be allowed in exceptional circumstances."

The authorities also frowned on the players leaving the field at half-time. At least some referees were lenient. As the Admiral explained: "I remember in a Scotland v Ireland match at Dublin, one of the worst days I have ever seen a match played in, when George Stephenson and Horsey Brown were both laid out with exposure, the referee allowed the team to leave the field at half-time to go to the pavilion, and he was lucky to ever get them out again; it was 25 minutes before they reappeared, although he was alone, on the field, whistling for them all this time."

New Zealand referee R.L Simpson was even smarter. Officiating the 1913 New Zealand-Australia Test in Wellington in atrocious weather described in one cable report as 'extremely disagreeable', Simpson decided the conditions were so bad that the game was played in four 20 minute quarters.

At the end of each quarter, hot drinks were brought out on the field for the players, who were also allowed to change into clean gear.

The press was even allowed to shower with the players after the Test. Could you imagine that happening nowadays- the superstars and the media sharing the soap after a game? Don't think so.

It's actually a surprise there's no rugby law barring player and media fraternisation under a shower head- because as Sir Percy and many others have discovered, everything else restricting the fun, frolic and mischief of the game has been adequately covered.