The time's ripe for a summit of the egos

UMMITS are all the rage right now, “rage” being the operative word, and as the union game has finished turning itself into a classic Monty Python sketch – “Would you like a five-year argument or the full half-century?” – why not get everyone round a table and thrash things out once and for all? If Twickenham’s governing class can spend time, money and political capital on a nationwide roadshow aimed primarily at saving the job of their own chief executive, they can surely help organise something a little less self-indulgent.

- CHRIS HEWETT

Has there been a better moment in god-knows-how-long for a serious discussion on the state of the sport in these islands? We cannot pretend, surely, that British and Irish rugby is the best it can be: not with the “European” Champions Cup distorting itself so hopelessly in embracing teams from another continent entirely; the financially challenged English Premiership elite quietly ring-fencing themselves, albeit with an invisible fence; and the United Rugby Championship perfecting its uncanny impersonation of a dog’s breakfast.

Only in France, wealthy beyond the dreams of Croesus – or Musk, if you prefer bomber-jacketed modernity to toga-draped classical – is there a club structure that makes sense to the average sports nut: a domestic championship with heavy footprints across much of the landmass; a functioning system of promotion and relegation with three fully professional leagues; big crowds at noisy venues; enthusiastic support from local municipalities; and a youth set-up that does not depend on scholarships to a handful of swanky private schools.