A couple of weeks ago I got a bit of an idea stuck in my brain. It was an old thought that I had never given room to breathe. A thought that I couldn’t shake. Even now, as I type this, it’s burning a hole straight through me. I have no expectation that I’ll get it out completely as it has already started to evolve. Maybe I’m off base. Maybe I’m completely right. But I can’t stop thinking about it, so I’m going to do what rugby people always do in moments of frustration and passion — talk it out, frankly and honestly, and hope others join the conversation.

Here goes…

Rugby exists because of the grassroots, not because of the elite levels. There, I said it. 

Let me preface that so there’s no misunderstanding: there is absolutely a rightful place for elite rugby. I love watching test rugby and top-tier competitions as much as the next person. The elite game is spectacular, inspiring, and worthwhile. But here’s the core truth that sets my teeth on edge when it gets overlooked:

Rugby does not exist because of professionals.

It never has. No matter how often we’re told that rugby “must” have successful professional competitions to survive.

It’s all BS.

The professional game is a product of rugby, not the source of it.

I’m here to say it plainly: No grassroots, no rugby.

Without grassroots rugby, there isn’t a place for the next Jonah Lomu, Ellie Kildunne, or Finn Russell to pick up a ball for the first time. Without grassroots, there aren’t volunteers lining pitches, washing jerseys, running concessions, driving vans, coaching on cold winter nights, and creating lifelong communities from nothing more than passion and a bag of rugby balls.

Without grassroots, there aren’t millions upon millions of fans across the world whose memories, joy, identity, and friendships were born at local clubs long before they ever cared which international team won on the weekend.

Without grassroots, there is no rugby at any level.

The entire rugby world stands on a foundation built by community clubs, junior programs, Old Boys teams, small town rivalries, Sunday morning touch sessions, fundraisers, hard working volunteers, and lifelong friendships that started on muddy training fields.

It doesn’t get said enough. It is time that WE take that narrative back. We, as in all of us throughout the grassroots of the sport. 

Flip the scenario: If professional rugby disappeared tomorrow, would the grassroots still exist?

Absolutely. It always has.

Until the mid-1990s, the sport had no professional format. And yet rugby exploded around the world anyway. Clubs thrived, communities grew, and players were developed, not because there was a paycheck waiting, but because rugby offers something far greater: belonging, identity, values, camaraderie, a home.

Sure, we’d capture fewer “professional grade” athletes without elite pathways. But the purpose of grassroots rugby has never been and should never be to manufacture the next generation of professional superstars. Some clubs have proud histories of producing international and professional players. Certainly, something that should be celebrated. But those same clubs have produced far more teachers, nurses, firefighters, tradespeople, engineers, parents, volunteers, and good citizens that learned what community looks like because of rugby.

For 99.8% of people who pull a jersey over their heads, rugby is not a career. It’s a culture.

And personally? As much as I enjoy elite rugby, I’d choose clubland any day of the week:

• A Saturday at a good welcoming rugby club.
• Watching a match that won’t be televised.
• Hearing the sideline get louder with every tackle.
• Seeing kids chase a ball on the touchline.
• Sharing a beer afterward with someone I didn’t know before kickoff.
• Laughing, breaking bread, telling stories. Living the sport the way it was born to be lived.

Real rugby. Real people. Ordinary people doing extraordinary work purely out of love and passion.

Yet too often, the conversation around “the state of rugby” focuses on the top of the pyramid. Topics like World Cups, funding sustainability, professional teams folding over finances, TV deals, marketing campaigns, competition restructuring. 

All of that may have value, but it’s missing the bigger truth: the grassroots are struggling in some places.

We’ve all seen it:

• Matches canceled or forfeited
• Players spread thin across multiple sides
• Declining participation in some regions
• Clubs barely staying afloat
• Volunteers facing burnout
• Aging facilities
• Great people giving everything they have and still feeling behind
  
  

And here’s the thing. We just accept it. We talk about it like it’s inevitable, like this is simply the new reality. Like watching a painfully slow march towards the end. 

I’m calling BS again.

It’s time for a revolution, not in the professional game, but in how we speak about and support club rugby. 

Because the grassroots can thrive and it is thriving in so many places. Every day on social media I see clubs telling their stories better than ever.

Photos of new players, the massive growth of women and girls taking up rugby, youth activities, packed sidelines, lively clubhouses, community fundraisers smashing goals, new spaces being built brick by brick. There is innovation everywhere not because clubs are rich, but because they are determined.

There is a new generation of players, coaches, and club admins who understand digital storytelling. Who celebrate their culture openly. Clubs who make rugby welcoming instead of intimidating. People who aren’t waiting for permission from their Unions or the professional game to succeed. They’re doing it on their own terms.

That is the real future of rugby. Communities built around a love of the sport that collectively support each other. 

So maybe this isn’t just a rant. Maybe this is a call.

Because if we start talking about these things openly, we change the narrative.

From:

“Grassroots rugby is dying.”

To:

“Look at what grassroots rugby is building.”

And when we share solutions, successes, ideas, and encouragement across borders, time zones, and club colors something powerful happens. We prove that rugby isn’t shrinking. Rugby is rediscovering itself. 

A rediscovery that doesn’t revolve around placing our fate in the hands of the top of the pyramid. We don’t need it to be successful in order for the grassroots to succeed. They don’t need to be symbiotic.

Let’s focus on the heart of the sport: People.

Clubs built on passion instead of money.
Friendships that are stronger than contracts.
Rugby played for love first and always.

Let’s start celebrating that loudly and relentlessly.

Let’s tell the stories of the grassroots heroes.
Let’s brag about our clubs and share what’s working.
Let’s encourage the clubs who are fighting uphill battles.
Let’s make belonging our goal.

Because in the end… No grassroots, no rugby.

But with grassroots?

Rugby has everything that it needs. Shout it out every chance that you get. 

If you’re reading this, I want to hear from you:

• What is the best thing your club does to keep rugby thriving?
• What makes your club feel like home?
• Who is someone at your club who deserves recognition?
• What small win did your team recently achieve that meant the world?
• What struggle do you wish other clubs understood?