Modest Wrecking Ball

“Put simply: when Richie McCaw plays, New Zealand tend to win; when he doesn’t, they don’t,” states Telegraph sports writer Paul Ackford as part of a week-long debate in the publication to decide who really is the current greatest rugby player in the world. “I brook no argument on this,” Ackford continues. “You can trumpet your Jonny Wilkinsons, your Brian O’Driscolls, your Bryan Habanas, your Victor Matfields, even your Dan Carters, as long and as loud as you like, but McCaw is the man. McCaw’s success rate is phenomenal, not just as a hunter of midfield backs but as a wrecking ball who forces turnovers. And he has done this for nine seasons in an area of the game that has become brutal to the point of masochism, and over a period where the techniques for retrieving and protecting the ball have been subject to a multiplicity of interpretation. It would be very wrong, and a serious misreading of what’s important in and around big rugby matches, to let his innate modesty or this generation’s puerile demand for simple and instant gratification to undermine his claim to greatness. In a complex game, McCaw does the difficult better than anyone.”