As the Rugby World Cup (RWC) rumbles towards its conclusion, it’s as good a time as any to reflect on what has been an outstanding, if overlong competition. In terms of organisation and attendances, it has been a great success. Some of the contests have been epic; New Zealand v Ireland and France v South Africa to name but two. Nevertheless, some aspects cause concern.

One-sided games for example. Sure, emerging nations need to gain experience against better sides, but shipping 71 and 96 points won’t encourage development of the game in Chile and Namibia. More likely to discourage youngsters from taking it up. Next time around, there needs to be a further qualifying tournament, to prevent so many early mismatches.

My main concern though is more serious and difficult to resolve. As a former player, at a reasonable level, the RWC emphasised how much the game has changed, and not necessarily for the better. Back in the day, we were all amateurs, meaning club players like me could reasonably compete against international players. I recall a six-all draw that featured three Lions’ players, recently returned from the successful “get your retaliation in first” tour of South Africa. That’s inconceivable now. At the time, Lions like Sandy Carmichael, Ian McLaughlin and Gordon Brown had day jobs and probably trained mainly on Tuesday and Thursday nights.

Professionalism changed all that. Today’s players are comparative monsters. They are bigger, faster, and stronger. Inevitably, reducing space on the pitch and totally changing the way the game is played. Scotland were criticised, rather unfairly, at the RWC for being one-trick ponies, constantly relying on moving the ball wide before running out of space on the wings. Before we criticise, however, there needs to be a closer look at what has taken its place.

The modern game has become a war of attrition reducing much of the game’s appeal as a spectacle. The scrum, for example, is a total waste of time and energy. Scrum halves feed the ball directly into the feet of the locks. Massive front row players emulate rutting stags trying to force their opponents upwards or downwards to win a penalty. There must be a better way of restarting the game.

Gaining territory in this war of attrition is largely through short-range frontal assault or interminable bouts of ping-pong kicking. Some teams look as if they have been coached by Sir Douglas Haig. Nowadays, players high-five one another, not for that side step or outrageous dummy, but for neck, teeth, and head jarring blocks. In the tradition of the Roman arena, spectators roar approval of the big hit. Twenty-plus phases of play impose huge demands on both attackers’ and defenders’ bodies. I wonder how long before we see a tsunami of litigation from former players about life-changing injuries to knees and ankles?

World rugby is aware of the dangers, hence attempts to prevent high and other dangerous tackles. Protocols aim to prevent concussed players returning too early to the fray. All very well when expert medical teams are present, but what happens at lower levels? Even at the highest levels, there is unacceptable inconsistency in interpretation, even when assisted by multi-angle TV evidence.

Surely, we can’t be far from the point where more far-reaching changes are considered to improve the spectacle and yes, bring back some fun to the game. As a starter, how about creating more space on the pitch by reducing team numbers to 13? Or would that smack too much of proletarian Rugby League? And let’s do away with the scrum and the faffing that goes with it.

The joy of rugby is having the ball in hand, running, and passing. Not the current interminable, boring, close-range grind. There are players who never seem to have the ball in hand. The professional game can’t be allowed to determine how it is played at earlier stages and ages. After watching the RWC, would you be happy to encourage your daughter or son to take up the game as it is played currently? Until the joie de vivre returns, I know what my answer would be.