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March 21, 2026 — 1:30pm
Memo Rugby League Central: if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
Last year’s NRL finals series was widely acknowledged as one of the best. The game was in great shape. But on the eve of this season, the NRL blew it up.
It announced an expansion of the territory in which repeat sets, or “six agains” as they are commonly called, are awarded. It has significantly tilted the balance of the game further towards attack, taking it closer to touch football. The defence, unable to backpedal the required 10 metres, concedes another six again and the momentum builds until a try is scored.
Sure, it keeps the tries coming and therefore commercial breaks on TV – which bid up the value of broadcasting rights in a year when negotiations have begun – but in speeding up the game and increasing ball-in-play time, the irony is we risk seeing less footy played, with more one-out runs up the middle against tired defenders.
There has been almost a doubling of six agains in the first two rounds this year (9.8 a game compared with 5.5 in 2025). A ruck infringement tally of say four to six, together with a 10-metre defence breach count of one or two, might suggest that a total repeat set differential of five to eight is not too one-sided. But if six agains are awarded to one team on early tackles and the other team on tackles late in the count, it can be a significant difference in possession.
While commentators play down their impact, repeat sets dominate player chat. Parramatta’s Jonah Pezet and the Storm’s Cameron Munster spoke immediately after their round two victories about repeat sets “cooking” the defence and the lack of accountability for officials because the rulings are made “on the run”. Frustrated Cowboys captain Tom Dearden said: “We don’t know what it’s [the six again] for.”
Coaches, always mindful of financial (or otherwise) retaliation from headquarters, were less guarded than usual.
North Queensland’s Todd Payten said: “It’s bringing fatigue into the game, and the game’s [already] fast enough.”
The Titans’ Josh Hannay supported referee Liam Kennedy after the loss to the Dolphins, pointing out that he was “officiating the game the way they [the NRL] wants it officiated”.
Melbourne’s Craig Bellamy avoids referencing referees, often not knowing who is in charge of his forthcoming game, but his frustration was evident at his team being forced to defend for 15 successive tackles in the first half against the Dragons last Saturday, conceding three tries. St George Illawarra coach Shane Flanagan refused to blame six agains for the Storm’s five second-half tries, citing “yardage errors” and kicks out on the full.
He obviously did not publicly blame his captain, Clint Gutherson, who lay down after contact from Storm centre Moses Leo, seeking a penalty for a late hit. The touch judge reported Leo. However, laying down requires a mandatory head injury assessment and, although Gutherson protested that he was not concussed, he was sidelined for 15 minutes. The Dragons missed their defensive organiser as a result and, to add irony to feigned injury and ignominy, Leo was not charged.
There is a solution to this collision between the NRL (with its desperation to speed up the game) and the players (who are protesting the lack of accountability for six agains) and coaches (who complain that errors can’t be identified and corrected).
Referees are miked for communication with the bunker, which announces a generic, automated “ruck infringement” or “10 metres” when communicating a breach to the crowd on the big screen. Why not be more specific? Such as “Josh King holding down” or “Jack Howarth offside”?
Either the bunker or the referee, via a second button direct link to the PA and the broadcaster, could communicate the message. It would provide immediate feedback to the offenders and also coaches.
When this suggestion was put to the NRL, a polite response came back: “No comment.”
A cynic would suggest such a measure would make referees accountable and marginally slow the game down, which is the reverse of what the NRL is trying to achieve.
The Cowboys had a player sin-binned, unexpectedly, against Wests Tigers during an avalanche of six agains. Coach Payten said: “Players are not understanding what calls are for and even us in the coaches box with ref ears are assuming what the breach in the six again call was.”
Asked if my remedy was feasible, Payten said: “If the match referee could nominate the number or the name of the player and what the infringement is for, we would know how to clean it up.”
The NFL head referee communicates penalties to the crowd but, admittedly, the American game stops for this to happen. Given the length of the message – such as, “Holding, offense No.63. Ten-yard penalty from the previous spot. Replay first down” – the NFL referee must stop the action. However, by nominating the offending player and the infringement on the run, the NRL referee would only be required to utter three or four words. As it is, players only see the referee wave his arm.
If the NRL wants to expand the game to new markets, such as the US and the Middle East, it needs to fix this. Forty years ago, I could sit with an American at the start of a rugby league game and say, “The red team will have the ball for six tackles, and then it’s the blue team’s turn. The defence must stand back 10 metres and you can’t pass the ball forward.” If the visitor got that, they understood 90 per cent of the game.
Then, post the game’s civil war when the rival competitions combined, the Super League guys led by Wayne Bennett wanted a seven-tackle set from the 20m line and the Australian Rugby League men led by Phil Gould wanted 40-20s. We lost the purity of the six tackles.
But we could still explain the game to visitors, especially the skill of a 40-20 and their relative rarity. Now, however, we have an avalanche of six agains, sometimes involving a sin bin and almost no one, other than the referee, knows why the decisions were made.
Rugby League Central boasts its amount of ball-in-play time delivers double the action of a rugby union game, but the NRL’s six agains make the codes similar in the sense that so much happens on the field that is neither seen, nor understood.
