Former Wallaby BRETT PAPWORTH explains how Club Rugby teaches important life lessons and why it should always be an important part of the fabric of our nation

LET’S BE HONEST. As sports fans in Australia, we are pretty lucky. On the world stage we win roughly 80 percent of the time. Pick any sport you like. We fight well out of our weight division in pretty much everything. Life is good.

Well before there was money in sport, it was exactly the same. Australia being really good at sport is not a new phenomenon.

Professionalism in Rugby and cricket has brought highly-paid full-time jobs, and much better conditions for the ever increasing number of junior development squads. Our cricketers and Rugby players practice in daylight hours, on training grounds that are perfect, and often complain if it is not. Someone has done all the work to provide everything a young man could possibly need to practice their elite talents.

And everyone is happy, because as I mentioned, most of the time we win. And those highly paid by the game retire to their lovely homes, congratulating themselves on what an amazing environment they have created, to enable these wonderful sporting performances by these special young athletes.

Well this week it didn’t all go to plan, and Australia were bowled out for 60 against England, who won inside three days. Unfavourable conditions indeed.

And Australia, whilst very good in favourable conditions on Saturday night against New Zealand, haven’t won the Bledisloe Cup since 2002. Eden Park this Saturday will present adversity and unfavourable conditions at a ground where we haven’t won since 1986. Not to mention an angry opponent.

So whilst millions of dollars are spent on our elite talent (not to mention the empires created to administer it all), it still seems that we can really only rely on a victory when the odds are in our favour anyway. Big money does not teach humility and resilience, which are really only required when the chips are down and conditions are tough.

If you are an elite young player these days, you don’t really need to do too many hard yards. Yes, you have to train hard, but most of the work is done for you by people who are paid to do it, and the conditions are perfect. You mostly just have to look good in the mirror. Michael Cheika understands this better than most, which is why I think we are in good hands.

Which brings me to the lessons taught by grass roots sport. Lessons that would have been useful at Trent Bridge, and will be absolutely necessary at Eden Park today.

On Grand Final day at Concord Oval, trophies will be fought over, by men who are, in the main, enthusiastic amateurs. Most of them will have been at work this week, or studying something for life post football. For some, it will be the only chance they get to win a title with their mates, after years of cold, wet training nights, when they could easily have been somewhere else.

Many of these players have been representative junior players, or even professionally contracted at some point, but mostly they are just blokes who have had to work hard, and play because they love it. Seasoned, hardened, and they know their place in the scheme of things. Humble and resilient. And they don’t care what they look like in the mirror (well some don’t anyway!).

They will have spent most of the year finding time to fit in the extra training required for them to be as good as they can be. Often, it will have been the 6am run, or the 9pm gym session, just because that was the only time they could get. And I’m not just talking first graders, as it’s the third and fourth graders who will also know what it’s like to do the unpleasant things required just to stay competitive.

The freezing nights at training, on a substandard training ground with poor light, when you would really prefer to be somewhere else, are the little things that build the character, resilience and humility that only sport can provide. They would have been respectful and polite to the many unpaid volunteers who tend to their needs, because they know that they too could easily be somewhere else.

Cricket and Rugby have some uncanny similarities, and are worth sharing, because it is the same lessons being neglected.

In cricket, as a 15 year old you can be selected in a NSW development squad, then the U17s programme, then the U19s programme, and in recent times there have been some selected to play State cricket, before they have even dominated First Grade. Club cricket is seen, by those highly paid by the game, as an unnecessary step in the development of a young player. But it is this step that creates the humility and resilience required for when the conditions don’t suit.

A young cricketer used to have to rush to training after school, uni or work, head into the nets in fading light, on substandard pitches, against hardened senior blokes, and do the hard yards. And they had to do it every week. It taught them a number of things: That cricket is hard when conditions don’t suit; that I am not as good as I thought I was, because the balding 40-year-old third grade captain can pretty much get me out whenever he wants; and I had better keep working hard on my game if I ever want to make it: And when you are finished, can you help pack up and put away the nets?

A young batsmen used to learn lessons from the grind of weekly grade cricket. A brilliant 30 would often bring sharp rebuke from the hardened old skipper, who actually needed the youngster to grind out an unfashionable three hours at the crease and make a hundred. There are literally thousands of young players with talent. A flashy cover drive in the nets is “a dime a dozen”. What is uncommon is the young player who can knock it around in difficult conditions, and get off strike, and still be there in three hours. Guess which players are more likely to be selected in junior development squads?

A post-match beer with teammates and opposition also teaches respect and humility, and there is much to be learned from the older blokes who have seen it all.

I can confidently say that David Warner (as an example only) has rarely had to do what is described here. Why would he bother? He makes great money smashing bowlers, in batsman friendly conditions, and we all think he’s a star. Most of the time he is.

But when the conditions are unpleasant, and you need to dig deep, you need the experience of all those days when you had to endure difficulty, and you survived. Young elite Rugby players and cricketers don’t actually have that many difficult experiences anymore, and it shows when conditions aren’t perfectly in their favour.

But the club player, well that is a different story. All around Australia, young men are learning the great lessons of sport which we should be cultivating in earnest, but which are neglected by those highly paid to be the guardians of our games. The big city corporate type on a sporting board can never know what I have described here, so can never know what it takes to win when the conditions are against you. They think it’s about money, and the “game day experience”. To quote my mother, “what piffle!!”

So to the game’s administrators, on Grand Final day, I urge you to remember that your job is not to provide an elite environment for a select few, who if we are honest, win most of the time anyway in good conditions. Your job is to perpetuate the lessons that only sport can provide, and can be seen every week at club level. Humility and resilience are born out of difficulty, disappointment and experience, and if you can cultivate this, we can win again at Eden Park, and avoid future debacles like Trent Bridge.

Those who win premiership trophies today know exactly what I am talking about, because it never happens by accident.