For some reason, people who are otherwise quite capable of speaking clear, coherent English in everyday life suddenly find the need to spew complete gibberish and double-speak on the sidelines.
With that in mind, we’ve broken down a collection of platitudinous garden-variety rugby phrases. The following is our guide to both things not to say at a First XV rugby match – along with a list of things you can totally get away with saying.
And finally, following that is a handy translation guide to understanding what supporters really mean when they are trotting out the trite, glib clichés you hear every week – plus some well-overdue plain-speaking definitions of rugby jargon.
Things not to say at a First XV rugby match
It’s a bad time to concede: Usually aired when the opposition has scored just before halftime, or immediately replied to after your own team has scored. But to better understand the trite, empty meaninglessness of this phrase, try to make a canonical list of the good times to concede. Thought so.
Unlucky: Usually uttered after a team have completely butchered a stone-cold certain try, missed a penalty from right in front or been pinged for glaringly camping 20m offside. “Unlucky” is code for “you are untalented but at least you tried”. Normally, it excuses incorrect judgment, poor technique or just plain lack of ability. Next time you hear someone shout “unlucky”, try substituting the word “incompetent”. You’ll be surprised how much more sense the game makes if you do this.
We’re taking it one game at a time: Typically expostulated by supporters or staff when the team are doing better than expected. These days, it is commonly accepted as a fundamental tenet of cross-code sporting wisdom, well beyond rugby. Funnily enough, you never hear anybody say: “Let’s focus on two games at a time.” And yet there are a lot of weeks in the school calendar where there would appear to be a strong case for doing exactly that and exploring an extended, broader strategic approach with personnel, tactics, logistics, etc, taking into account more than just one match.
The No 3 looks a bit fat: Okay, yes, it is always curious to see a 130kg schoolboy, but just don’t.
The lads gave it 110% today: This is complete nonsense insofar as it is a mathematical impossibility. You can’t give more than 100%. That’s what “per cent” means.
For a big lad, he’s good with ball in hand: There is a curious default expectation that anyone over 180cm will have dysfunctional motor neurons and be totally crap with co-ordination and mobility. It takes so much longer for the messages to get from the brain to the hands and legs, perhaps? So we are naturally astonished when he can not only pass the ball, but also catch and run. Far less common is the inverse observation: “For a little guy, he’s bad with ball in hand.”
Easiest try he’ll ever score: How would you know?
Big, big scrum: Unless you’re aboard the Augusta Army bandwagon, this sounds as gormless as it is. Needs to be discouraged.
You have to take your chances at this level: An enduring rugby mantra, its status heartily reinforced by the fact it never seems to matter what the actual level is. At any level, you have to take your chances. Because if you don’t, two things are equally as certain in Cliche World. “You can’t have any complaints” and “You will be punished”.
Things you can safely say at a First XV match
The ref is really letting the game flow: To be uttered when the ref has completely lost control of the breakdown and is seeing very little, but it favours your team.
It could have gone either way with that scrum penalty: Wise words when you have no idea about what has happened. And neither has the ref.
We need better discipline: Nobody is really sure exactly what this means but it is impossible to disagree with.
The game will be won and lost at the breakdown: It’s something someone who understands rugby might say and it never hurts to pretend you know what you are talking about.
Supporters on the sidelines at Sacred Heart College.
Chasers!: It’s completely meaningless, but somehow quite appropriate every time there is an equally meaningless kick ahead.
Good shift: Praise for a prop who leaves the field early in the second half. You have no idea what he’s done, but do know he’s not fit enough to play the whole game.
Use the wind: Even if you don’t know what direction it’s blowing, it sounds knowledgeable.
Now this is where it gets interesting: It is not in the slightest bit interesting, but is something that makes you sound relevant when a scrum has been called.
Heaaave: A guttural cry made during a rolling maul. It really does make it go faster.
Just make sure to keep it up: Wise advice whenever there is a maul. And it doesn’t matter who you support with this one. Everybody wants mauls to stay up.
What A … : Try, tackle, player, kick, shambles, anything that needs a little more emphasis is a “What A.” TV commentators also do this a lot.
They committed too many there: You can shake your head at every ruck and mutter this loudly.
That’s very flat: Say this whenever a pass from your team clearly went forward.
Numbers: It’s just something to shout when you haven’t got a clue what you are talking about but it makes you sound deep. At a scrum: “Numbers”. At a lineout: “Numbers”. At a penalty kick: “Numbers”. Works every time. As a variation, occasionally claim: “They’ve got numbers on the blindside.”
He had a good/bad platform: It can be either an excuse or caveat for any action from the halfback or first five.
They went back to basics: A good chat line when your team are dreadful to watch but have been able to string a few wins together.
Line speed: Just randomly exclaim this. Nobody can ever disagree.
Should have passed: This fits on so many occasions. And if he did pass, just add “sooner”. As a contrary alternative, if he did pass early, say “should have taken the tackle”.
King’s College supporters on the sidelines at a First XV rugby game.
Should have taken the three points: No matter the situation, if a team go for touch from a penalty, always say this.
Good hands: Whenever a team manage to string together more than two passes.
Finally, always question the timing of substitutions. No matter what. Even if a player is being taken off on a stretcher.
What they say – and what they really mean
You can’t afford to take this team for granted: It’s going to be a totally lopsided contest and you probably CAN afford to take them for granted, ahead of more important games to come.
He wants to make sure the scrum’s stable before putting the ball into it: He wants a penalty.
The defence is up very quickly: They were miles offside.
He’s an ideal utility back: He’ll never ever get off the bench, no matter how hard he tries.
What a Cinderella story: Nobody really rates them or respects them. They are a loser school, but they’ve somehow strung a few wins together. It won’t last, but good luck to them – their fans haven’t had much to cheer about.
They’re in a rebuilding phase: They’re crap. Good teams don’t need to rebuild.
Earn the right to go wide: An ambitious team with useless forwards who panic-pass.
The 10 is taking the ball with a lot of depth: The first five is so scared of being tackled, he is almost off the field.
Our tall timber always carries it forward: This boy simply can’t pass and everyone knows it.
Win the collisions: A polite way of saying f*** ’em up.
The scoreboard doesn’t tell the real story: The losing team made a decent effort, but they were so rubbish, they botched the easiest of chances and made the usual howlers in defence.
On his day he’s one of the best in the country: He has the odd flash of brilliance but is too lazy to be more consistent.
We have total trust in our coach: One more loss and he’s gone.
He needs to work on his fitness: He’s lazy.
Sleeping giants: A school side that have been rubbish for 30 years. Sleeping dwarves, more like it.
The winning team will be the one that make the fewest mistakes: The winning team will be the one that score the most points.
Deconstructing other rugby jargon
Claret: It’s an unwritten rule that you must always refer to spilled blood on the pitch as claret, a term historically used to describe the red wines of Bordeaux, made from the merlot and cabernet sauvignon grape varieties. Even though this is a blend that has seldom been seen in our wine shops for the past four decades. Taking a cheap claret to a progressive dinner party in the 1970s was a solid choice, perfect with cheese fondue or steak Diane. But not so much these days.
DNA: Every good team have an inherent identity. The “Professor”, Sir Wayne Smith, taught us this when the Black Ferns won the Rugby World Cup in 2022. Even if you don’t know what that identity is, when your team do something good, say “that’s our DNA” or if they do something bad, “we haven’t found our DNA”.
Carry-clean: Not a Kiwi mispronunciation of a famous underwear brand, but rather a strong run needs to be followed by a strong clear-out (clean) of an attempted “jackler” at the ruck.
Both sides of the ball: Refers to a player who is strong carrying the ball and defending without it. But geometrically, the phrase is redundant. A standard modern rugby ball has four sides, commonly referred to as panels. These elliptical panels are stitched together to form the ball’s distinctive oval shape.
Core roles: Specific duties performed by forwards, like throwing the ball straight to the lineout. NB: this phrase is never used for backs.
Exit: A kick from inside your own 22 but never any other part of the field.
D: Defence minus six letters.
Second-man play: Some sort of attack that involves decoys, even when females are playing.
Double-pump: A pass with a stutter or a dummy. Not to be confused with the act of expressing milk from both breasts simultaneously using a double electric pump.
Round the corner: Forwards smashing it up with just one pass from each ruck. Typically boring to watch but a telltale acknowledgement the backs are hopeless.
We’ve got a few work-ons: The team and the coach did everything wrong.
Learnings: It has replaced the word “lessons” in sports circles. Or has it? In medieval and Jacobean times, it was perfectly acceptable to use “learnings” to refer to “things learnt”. Even Shakespeare used it several times in this way. But by 2013 Forbes magazine included “learnings” in a survey of “the most annoying, pretentious and useless business jargon”. Before the All Blacks played France, captain Ardie Savea suggested the All Blacks had to fast-track learnings. Did he ever use that phrase when head boy at Rongotai College?
Meat pie: A try in Cockney rhyming slang. And a reminder, vegetarians don’t score tries. It’s a wonder we don’t also have “sausage rolls” for “goals”.
Post-contact metres: Ground gained after a tackle. Frequent use of this jargon will get you a job as a RugbyPass columnist.
Micro-skill: A small skill like a short pass with defenders close by. Ask Justin Marshall for more details.
Leadership group and game-drivers: A fallback phrase for when a coach and team have no idea who’s a decent captain.
Contestables: A fancy way of justifying stupid box kicks.