These Gods of ours are Northern Gods. Join the Rugby League Family.

Guest blog by John Atkinson,@Aktiteach

Is it coincidence that one of the toughest, hardest, most physically demanding sports was born in the north? No. Is it coincidence that the sport’s heartlands are the cities which spawned political, social and industrial revolutions? No. Is it coincidence that Rugby League’s beating heart, spiritual home and immortal soul all lie in Danelaw lands? No. You see, these gods we worship are northern gods; these gladiators we applaud are extraordinary men; these clubs we follow are built on fairness, equality and decency. This game, this sporting life, this Rugby League is of and by and for the north. It embodies our passions, our moral codes, our way of life. It personifies our struggles, our beliefs, our lives. Rugby League is northern culture.

On paper, Rugby League is a game involving two teams of 13 players each. The aim of the game is to outscore the opposing team by getting the ball over the try line (4 points) or kicking it through the H (2 points for a penalty or a conversation after a try; 1 point for a drop goal). Each team has 6 goes to get the ball as far they can; the opposition must stop the man carrying the ball and bring him to the floor, and that go. In reality, it’s much more fun than that.

The ins-and-outs of the game have no place on paper and can’t be condensed and described into a blog. The only way to understand Rugby League is to see it live. Once you have, you will fall hopelessly in love. For sports lovers, it has everything you could want: tactical brilliance, passion and power. For those whose heads have been turned from sports because of our round ball cousins, we don’t share their excesses, their ‘fan’ violence or their morals. Rugby League is a game in which supporters can be at once proud of their fellow fans, proud of their players and proud of their history. I hope, in this brief treatise, to gift you some of my passion, some of my pride and some of my knowledge, and ultimately convince you to take in a game this weekend and see what I see. Whether it’s Odsal, Belle Vue or Headingley, come, see, sing and fall in love with a game that was made for you.

Rugby League is steeped in history, and it’s a history we in the north have shared for decades and one which we could do well to learn from. The Victorians are credited with creating many sports but, in truth, they codified them, setting their rules and laws for years to come. One game, rugby, was born. The country was gripped. Thousands came week in and week out to cheer on their heroes. It quickly became the pastime of choice in the industrial heartlands of the north. Factories, mills and mines would turn out to cheer on fellow workers every weekend. The harsh conditions of life in a northern town were the perfect training for the rugby player: hard graft made hard men who brought muscle forged in the mines onto the pitch. Quickly, the north ruled the world, with the best teams and players all hailing from the Empire’s industrial heart. But all was not well. The north felt, not for the first time nor the last, ignored. The game was ruled by London and power concentrated there. Things came to a head when the rulers of the game would not allow ‘broken time’ payments for players: the working class players were not allowed to receive any payment for time lost at work through travelling, playing or injury. This didn’t bother the rich middle-class in the south but the workers in the north could not afford to feed their families and play.

Tired of being treated like children, without a say in the game’s future or a voice on how it was run, the north rose up and shook of its shackles: Rugby league was born… in Huddersfield. Cities and towns across Yorkshire, Lancashire and Cumbria decided enough was enough and crated a game which treated their players and the fans with fairness, dignity and honour. Where would we be now, here in the north, had we followed Rugby League’s lead and decided to not play by London’s rules, turned away from their dicta and worked for ourselves rather than for them? Would it be a fairer, more equal, more just society?

The men we cheer on each week are gladiators and gods, but older gods, our gods and northern gods. Whilst footballers are worshipped and walk on water, our gods are mortal, filled with honourable power and, as the Ǽsir, are warriors. Like the Norse gods our northern ancestors worshipped, they live amongst us, living, breathing and understanding the streets their faithful walk. They are mortal yet special: super-human. These men, these warriors, put their bodies on the line playing one of the few games which surpass ‘contact’ and enter the realm of ‘collision sports’. We ask them, time and again, to run, headlong, into 30 or 40 stones of muscle, get up and do the same. And they do. There is no falling wilfully to the floor, rolling around like a sniper’s taken them out from row Z. They are warriors: men of honour, men of courage and men of the north. And when they fall, our grateful applause become Valkyries, carrying them from the battle and on to greatness in Valhalla. Whilst you could tickle a Premiership footballer to the floor, a rugby player takes some stopping: the former I find shameful, embarrassing and unmanly; the latter embodies our northern codes of men are men, don’t show weakness, and love demonstrable, awesome power.

When you come to Rugby League, you will, like every single one of us, be proud of your fellow supporters. We aren’t gated, segregated and shepherded into pens to keep us apart; we don’t act like animals so aren’t treated as such. We walk together to matches, talk together before and afterwards, and stand side-by-side during the match. I’ve always been a Bradford fan: I bleed red, amber and black. Obviously, that means I say “I hate Leeds Rhinos”… but I don’t. We don’t hate. We say we do, we sing we do, but I stand alongside Rhinos fans at matches, in the pub afterwards and we talk. We take the mick, we indulge in jovial banter and, when we see each other at work the next day, we are friends. Bradford Bulls’ financial woes have been well documented recently, but no bunch of supporters did more for our club than our ‘bitter’ rivals Leeds, turning up in droves to a fantastic local derby at Odsal and putting their hands in their pockets to save our club. Widnes Vikings & Hull FC did their bit, with collections being taken when we played them away. You see, when one of us in trouble, we’re all in trouble. We’re a family.

If you want some culture this weekend, true, northern culture, filled with passion and pride, honour and grit, give rugby league a go. If you’re not sure of all the rules, you’ll pick them up, and, we’re a friendly bunch, so just ask. Go and see what the north gave us; go and feel what Romans at the Coliseum felt; go… and become part of the rugby league family – we’d love you join us.

You can find your nearest Super League club here – http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Super_League or a list of all clubs here – http://www.therfl.co.uk/watch/club_finder