Are you not entertained? Sadly, not when it comes to rugby

OPINION: When Bob Marley wrote his song Exodus, I doubt many – if any – people would have likened it to the malaise that has been infecting our national game for years.

But that’s what has been happening, and despite all the constant tinkering and law tweaks, this fan exodus is showing no signs of slowing down.

You know something’s really wrong when a former All Black turns off the match involving his former team and switches over to rugby league. And he wasn’t alone in venting his frustrations.

While I understand Justin Marshall’s reasoning, what he should have done is watch a game of AFL.

Once considered a game played just in the state of Victoria, Aussie Rules has now spread to every corner of the lucky country. But luck has nothing to do with its expansion and explosion in popularity.

This is a fast-paced and extremely physical game watched by tens of thousands of fans who barrack for their team at every turn. AFL local derby matches at the MCG can pull in 80,000 punters, almost twice the capacity of Eden Park.

Ignoring the fact we don’t have a stadium of that size, when was the last time anyone saw more than 20,000 for a Super Rugby match?

It’s not just the action on the field, it’s the marketing of it, the storytelling. You are taken along on an emotional journey, and you become invested in it. This isn’t just Sky TV’s fault, but the sky is falling on rugby’s popularity.

Once you get used to the rules and terminology – such as a banana kick, a sausage roll and my personal favourite the double-fister – you’re away laughing.

Rugby used to be a cash-cow, but the powers that be milked it to death. The AFL knows it has a great product, so rather than reinventing the wheel like World Rugby and NZR seemingly does every year, it tweaks the rounds as opposed to the rules.

They have a pride round; an indigenous round and this year the cleverly named gather round, where every game was played in the one city – in this case, Adelaide, a city smaller than Auckland. If bums on seats equates to success, there were more than 3.3 million bums sitting down, shouting for their favourite team over one glorious weekend.

Imagine that same scenario in one of our major cities? The financial windfall alone would be immense.

I grew up watching rugby, played it for close to 15 years. I was no Christian Cullen or Carlos Spencer, but I was lucky enough to lace up against them due to where I lived.

Playing against them and beating them; well they were as far apart as night and day. But I loved every second of it. I played keep-offs at school, that morphed into what we called “scrag”. And if you remember rucking, despite the stinging pain, you wore those marks with pride – albeit through gritted teeth at times.

I liked to call rugby the beautiful game. Because it is – or was. To all those who chase after the round ball, go and watch the 1973 Barbarians match against the All Blacks at Cardiff Arms Park. If the sheer beauty of running rugby doesn’t excite you, the commentary by Cliff Morgan is now the stuff of legend.

“If the greatest writer of the written word would have written that story, no one would have believed it. That really was something.”

What was great about rugby was that anyone could play it, size didn’t matter. It does now. The collision matters, the aggression at the breakdown matters. Anyone under 1.83m (6 foot in the old money) and 100kg need not apply.

The women’s game is the exception to this rule. Last year’s World Cup was a revelation to many. Every pass stuck, every tackle made and the pure athleticism of them was something to behold. It’s like the game used to be.

Some of the rule changes are to be commended, lowering the tackle heights being one of them.

But if those at NZR are intent on growing rugby’s appeal, they don’t have far to look for a recipe for success. Just over the ditch in fact.