The Game Is Growing… Somewhere

There’s something almost poetic about how often we hear the phrase “grow the game” in rugby. It gets rolled out at press conferences, stitched into strategy documents, and delivered with the kind of polished conviction that makes you think we’re on the brink of some great global awakening.

And then reality taps you on the shoulder.

Over the past week, Rian Oberholzer has effectively admitted what many suspected: South Africa and New Zealand are unlikely to host a Rugby World Cup again under the current financial model. Not because they don’t love the game enough. Not because they lack infrastructure. But because, commercially, they don’t hit the same revenue projections as bigger economies.

Now listen, from a business perspective, it’s not outrageous. World Rugby funds much of the global game off the back of the tournament. Bigger markets mean bigger broadcast deals. Bigger broadcast deals mean more money flowing through the system. On paper, that’s sensible.

But here’s where the banter stops being playful and starts being pointed.

If “grow the game” really just means “grow the broadcast revenue,” then let’s call it that. Because the countries that actually need growth, proper, structural, long-term investment, are rarely front and centre in these glossy conversations.

Take the Pacific Islands. Fiji, Samoa, Tonga. Talent factories and Cultural powerhouses. Nations that punch above their weight every single cycle. Their players light up club competitions across the world, yet their unions are constantly fighting for financial stability and consistent tier-one fixtures. Imagine what genuine investment there would look like instead of the usual sympathetic nod and a once-off showcase match.

Look deeper at Fiji. For years, we’ve been told inclusion is coming. Progress is happening. Finally, Fiji are now set to be part of the new Nations Championship, which on the surface looks like a long-overdue seat at the top table. Except there’s a catch. For logistical and commercial reasons, Fiji won’t host home fixtures in Suva. Instead, they’ll play their matches in the UK. Read that again slowly. One of the most culturally vibrant rugby nations on earth finally gets consistent elite competition… but not on home soil. So what exactly are we growing?

Fiji’s talent has never needed validation. Their players are central to professional leagues across Europe and the southern hemisphere. Their national side electrifies every tournament they enter. But the chance to host tier-one nations in front of their own people, to stimulate local economies, inspire the next generation directly, and build genuine rugby infrastructure, gets outsourced for “practical reasons.” It starts to feel less like inclusion and more like controlled access.

Look at South America beyond Argentina. Chile and Uruguay are building something real. You can see it. There’s hunger there, and identity, and genuine growth at grassroots level. But are they being meaningfully integrated into the global calendar? Or are they just useful for a compelling underdog storyline every four years?

And then there’s Georgia. Every time they front up, they’re physical, organised, and unapologetically proud. Yet the door to consistent elite competition never quite opens. It’s always “almost,” always “maybe next cycle,” always “the structure isn’t quite right.” So while the heavyweights of the southern hemisphere are being told they’re commercially inconvenient hosts, the emerging nations are still being treated like distant relatives invited to the party after the seating plan has already been finalised.

That’s the uncomfortable bit tjoms.

Because true growth isn’t just about chasing new wallets in established mega-markets. It’s about competitive growth. It’s about spreading meaningful fixtures. It’s about revenue models that don’t simply trickle down when convenient. It’s about ensuring the next Fiji, the next Uruguay, the next Georgia aren’t just cameo appearances, they’re permanent cast members.

No one is saying World Rugby should ignore financial reality. Of course the tournament needs to make money. Of course sustainability matters. But when two of the sport’s most decorated and passionate nations are effectively told, “Thanks for the trophies, but the margins aren’t quite there,” you can’t help but wonder what the phrase grow the game actually means.

If it’s growth for rugby as a truly global sport, then the Pacific Islands, South America, Georgia, and yes, even the traditional southern giants, deserve more than polite lip service while the hosting rights circle the same commercial logic.

Rugby doesn’t lack passion. It doesn’t lack history. It doesn’t lack new frontiers.

What it might lack is the courage to grow in places that don’t immediately spike a revenue projection.