Why the TMO makes rugby unwatchable

Enough, please. The Television Match Official – better known by the dreaded acronym, TMO – is turning rugby into a spectacle that’s as exciting as reading through your power bill for 80 minutes.

That used to be how long rugby matches were, 80 minutes, but they’re being dragged out by infuriating TMO delays akin to the scrutiny exercised by officious types with clipboards bothering staff in workplaces. You know who they are.

One of the appeals of watching professional sport at the top level is the ease in which athletes can execute difficult skills so efficiently and quickly in succession, something the audience marvels at and encourages others to see because of its aesthetic beauty or brute strength.

Don’t avert your gaze for one second. You might miss something spectacular.

Rugby is no different, with its displays of breathtaking speed and skill complementing its captivating hits of physical power.

However, watching a televised rugby match of late has sucked all the fun out of a live event because you’ve got more than enough time to look away once the TMO gets busy and kills the pulse of an exciting, vibrant contest.

If you’re at home, worried about an opening to leap from your seat to get another beer, don’t be.

You won’t miss a thing and neither will the TMO, although it’s often unclear what they are searching for.

But those in the stands, without a decent view of the big screen that’s poring over the latest incident at various angles and speeds, don’t have a clue, as a hushed confusion wafts around the stadium with the smell of stale, overpriced beer and burnt hot dogs.

On the ground, there is the referee with two assistants (touch judges) while the TMO is their eye in the sky, peering down on the action with the heat of Sauron’s fiery gaze from The Lord of the Rings.

But the TMO’s tedious control has wriggled to mind-numbing levels of interference.

Last month’s test rugby was littered with incidents of the TMO’s prodding and probing, slamming the ‘‘interfere’’ button like an irritated child whacking a Playstation controller that’s not plugged in or charged.

The Dublin test between the All Blacks and Ireland featured many, as English referee Luke Pearce walked around in a chatty mood.

He wasn’t in the pub afterwards, but repeatedly consulting with his TMO, Tom Foley, analysing numerous incidents – many innocuous and through the questionable lens of slowmotion replays – to disrupt an otherwise thrilling test.

All Blacks hooker Codie Taylor was harshly sinbinned when his arm brushed Johnny Sexton’s face and Ireland prop Tadhg Furlong’s try was contentiously disallowed – both after the officials spent minutes microscopically searching for an infringement that nobody cared for with the naked eye.

With that process, where do you stop? Its dangerous territory to scrutinise so much in a match with hundreds of collisions happening at high speed. Most do not impact the final result or cause injury.

Get on with it.

In the Black Ferns tour finale against France in Castres, Scottish TMO Neil Paterson was so invasive that he was affecting the decisionmaking of the on-field referee, Hollie Davidson, while she was doing her job in the battleground of a test.

The players were confused about who was in charge.

Granted, the TMO is needed to clarify whether tries have been legitimately scored, or to correct a howler and check for foul play. Player safety is paramount.

Nevertheless, their powers must be dialled back because they can’t be like a second on-field referee for everything, diving in for the last scrap in a bag of chips.

Enough, please.