I was tempted this week to go on ad nauseam for the millionth time about how rugby’s PR machine is like that of the North Korean official press agency, until I saw a little gem from ESPN.
They assembled a team of sport scientists in an attempt to work out what the toughest sports were, ranked 1-60.
The sports scientists, (OK, four of the eight panellists were sports science buffs, three work for ESPN, and one was Brian Jordan who played in both the NFL and major league baseball) came up with boxing as the toughest sport.
The rankings were based on endurance, strength, power, speed, agility, flexibility, nerve, durability, hand-eye coordination, and analytic aptitude.
I have no problem with boxing finishing top. But, being typically American, boxing is followed by ice hockey, American football, and basketball.  Rugby comes 13th, after soccer, and there’s no mention of rugby league (which I think is harder than rugby and American football combined, with a bit of boxing thrown in for good measure).
People will argue till the proverbial Friesians come home about what sport is better, tougher, harder to master, and more skilful.  Science (no, not ESPN science) tells us cross-country skiers have the best oxygen uptake, tradition tells us Latin America produces the best baseballers, and our hearts tell us our national team in our preferred sport is always going to win.
The toughest sport might be boxing. The toughest thing in sport is losing.
I, like the 186 people slagging him on one mainstream media website’s comments page, screamed when Stephen Donald didn’t put the ball into touch last weekend with seconds remaining on the clock.
Stephen gets paid a lot of money to play rugby.  He gets to travel the world, be a superstar, and will end his playing days with a reasonable wedge of cash from an offshore club.
People expect him, in that situation, to just bang it into touch. That’s what he trains for. It wasn’t like he was a long way from touch, and we did seem to be taking all the Aussie lineouts once Faingaa came on.
But some days are just bad days. Donald was already having one before that kick didn’t find its mark and probably end the game. It just got worse for him. And now he has the triple-whammy – taking the heat for the loss, being eviscerated by anonymous internet commentators all over New Zealand, and possibly doing his chips for the 2011 World Cup.
All sports are tough when it comes to the final result. Someone wins, but that means someone else has to lose. We often hear those expected to win called chokers, or one in description of Donald “as soon as he puts on a Black jersey he is like a possum in headlights”.
It’s easy to scream, cry and criticize from the comfort of the lounge. New Zealanders as a group are the world’s best critics. We are the world’s best losers – as long as it is the other team. We see Stephen Donald find touch week after week for Waikato and the Chiefs and just assume he will do it to close out a Test.
Nevertheless, as those who play know, there’s a fine line between hero and zero. That’s what defines toughness in sports. How one reacts to being the zero. As Shakespeare said, “Wise men ne’er sit and wail their loss, but cheerily seek how to redress their harms.”
Better, not bitter.