Imagine a sport teetering on the edge of revolution or outright rebellion—rugby is staring down its own disruptive crossroads, echoing the dramatic tale of cricket's Indian Cricket League from over a decade ago. But here's where it gets intriguing: will rugby learn from history, or risk repeating its mistakes?
You might faintly recall the Indian Cricket League, or ICL, which burst onto the scene in 2007, courtesy of billionaire media mogul Subhash Chandra. At the time, it was a game-changer: a Twenty20 tournament rooted in India, drawing in the planet's top cricketing talents. Picture Indian icon Kapil Dev leading the charge, flanked by overseas powerhouses like Brian Lara, Inzamam-ul-Haq, and Chris Cairns for the inaugural season. The grand finale unfolded in a raucous stadium, complete with pulsating music, cheerleaders, and Bollywood celebrities stealing the spotlight.
Yet, the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI), the sport's Indian governing body, wasn't having it—at least not publicly. They dismissed the unauthorized ICL as a 'veterans' series that no one would bother tuning into, barred involved players from donning India's colors, and swayed other nations to impose similar bans on Test cricket participation. In a bold twist, the BCCI then rolled out their own near-identical brainchild: the Indian Premier League (IPL). This venture skyrocketed into cricket's mega-event, boasting media rights deals valued in the billions, as detailed in sources like Forbes. It's a pivotal lesson that Rowena Samarasinhe insists rugby must absorb.
'It took a bit of time to find its groove, but nowadays, life without the IPL feels unthinkable,' she remarks. Samarasinhe envisioned World 12s as rugby's answer to that success. As the former CEO of this proposed initiative—the latest maverick challenge to the game before R360 took the stage—she aimed for an annual three-week extravaganza in 2022, featuring twelve players per side and the sport's elite in a vibrant global hub.
Alas, despite heavyweight endorsers like ex-All Blacks skipper Kieran Read and legendary Springbok Schalk Burger, plus the allure of earnings topping £250,000 for barely a month's effort, the project never launched. Samarasinhe firmly believes such concepts will persist unless rugby, mirroring the BCCI's strategy, grabs the reins itself. 'I remain convinced our approach was spot on,' she asserts. 'World Rugby will keep facing these challenges—whether from R360, World 12s, or the next big thing. They must innovate internally. Why not create something from within, instead of letting outsiders dictate the future?'
Despite stern warnings from leading unions and rugby league's NRL that participants could be exiled from their squads, R360's planners are upbeat about assembling teams for their October 2026 kickoff. Samarasinhe, drawing from her World 12s experience, has witnessed firsthand the buzz among athletes craving a lucrative payday. 'Nearly every player I chatted with was thrilled,' she shares. 'They were eager to pitch in and make it happen. A big driver was the financial boost—rugby pros often don't rake in enough over their careers—but there was also the thrill of trying a fresh format with rivals turned teammates.'
World 12s grappled with the same dual hurdles that R360 or any rugby newcomer encounters. Backers demand player commitments upfront, while athletes seek assurance of funding before risking their reputations. 'It's a classic catch-22,' explains Samarasinhe, who garnered interest from over 500 players for World 12s. 'Investors first want proof of star sign-ups. My backer for World 12s even proposed sharing a roster of 200 provisionally agreed players with World Rugby. But I couldn't expose them until success seemed feasible.'
In the end, for World 12s, that feasibility eluded them. No national union rallied to champion the idea to World Rugby, the 12-a-side rules weren't codified like those for 15s, Sevens, or 10s, and securing funds grew thorny. By October 2021, World Rugby declared they weren't keen on pursuing the idea further, dashing World 12s' dreams. To put it mildly, this is the part where opinions diverge: Was World Rugby's rejection a protective move for the sport's integrity, or a shortsighted block on innovation?
Contrasted with R360, World 12s would have been far less invasive on rugby's schedule. It envisioned a compact three-week run in a single spot—Los Angeles was the frontrunner—during August, offering compensation to clubs for player releases to inject cash back into the system. Plus, it aimed to spotlight second-tier nations' talents alongside legends, fostering global growth. R360, however, plans a bolder, globe-spanning odyssey spanning five months, with players signed full-time from clubs, yanking superstars out of domestic leagues.
R360 even consulted Samarasinhe over a year ago while crafting their blueprint. 'I'm skeptical,' she confesses. 'Can they truly pack stadiums in Miami and those trendy destinations? Will fans flock from afar, or rely on locals? It seems they might be downplaying the challenge. An enclosed, concentrated tournament generates that electric, event-like hype. I was all in on Los Angeles—it's a massive sports metropolis hungry for novel, boundary-pushing experiences.'
R360 will bet on that hunger being broad and deep enough to propel their endeavor. 'Standing still won't rescue rugby,' Samarasinhe wraps up. 'We need action—and not just more of the familiar.'
Do you think rugby should boldly innovate with formats like R360 or World 12s, potentially risking player bans and schedule disruptions for fresh excitement and revenue, or would sticking to traditional structures preserve the sport's soul? Is Samarasinhe's push for internal innovation the way forward, or could external rebels ultimately force change? Share your take in the comments—agree, disagree, or offer a counterpoint we'd love to hear!
