| It is certainly educational – and sobering – to get an update direct from Silicon Valley in California, where one of the high priests of the new normal is based. Sitting at his desk, with sport’s future at his fingertips, is an Irishman named Stephen Smith, founder and chief executive of Kitman Labs, a global performance intelligence and technology company specialising in injury welfare and analytics. Among the company’s 2,000 clients are the Premier League, the NFL and the Rugby Football Union and it is easy to see why they are interested. Much individual data is meaningless in isolation, but what if it can be distilled down into “actionable intelligence” that can help with everything from how your star player is really feeling to extending the careers of your entire squad? “The whole purpose of what we do is providing insights and information,” Smith says. “It’s about joining the dots and seeing what’s actually happening. That’s the secret sauce. It’s being able to look at that in one place and making better decisions.” Which is the perfect moment, clearly, to hit the former Leinster injury rehab coach with the traditional counterargument. Is modern sport drowning in a sea of data, with some coaches blinded by science and losing the human “feel” that was their raison d’etre? As you might imagine, Smith believes otherwise. “When I hear coaches say that, it’s because they haven’t worked with anybody good enough to help them. It means we’re not speaking the same language as them. “If we talk about statistical significance, coaches just don’t care. But if we translate that data and insights into their language, that’s how we bring data to life. Because I actually believe in the coach’s eye and expertise. They are analysts, they are scientists, they just don’t know it. They’re doing it with their eye, they just can’t quantify it.” To illustrate his point Smith refers back to his early years at Leinster, when he worked with Michael Cheika and Joe Schmidt, in charge of Leicester Tigers and the Wallabies respectively. He rates both as “incredible leaders”, but with contrasting strengths. “Cheika had a very well-rounded understanding of athletes. He could see and read them and had very high emotional intelligence. Joe was less [focused] on the person, but unbelievably detailed in terms of tactics. I’ve often said that if you could merge the strengths of both of them together they would be unstoppable.” It was Cheika, as it happens, who was the catalyst for Smith’s business career. Having made his own fortune in the fashion trade where it paid to be alive to possible future trends and customer preferences, the Australian wanted to know why Leinster seemed unable to keep their players fit and healthy. Where was the data? Was there a pattern? Smith started digging through old handwritten records, put them on a computer and the rest is history. From the precise physical demands of specific positions in an ever‑changing game to maximising player recovery, the numbers are increasingly king. The stats suggest, for example, that the Six Nations championship this year was quicker and more physically taxing than ever. Having also previously worked at Leinster with Dan Tobin, now England men’s strength and conditioning coach, Smith believes data is increasingly shaping the team’s selection and tactics. “Dan is incredibly detailed about what he does. What does each position and each person look like? How does what they’re doing compare to their own norm and to the norm of their own position group? Without a doubt he’ll be doing that.” OK, but what about artificial intelligence? Is “robot rugby” just over the horizon, with coaches doomed to become mere ciphers? Smith thinks not, at least for now. “Right now, AI’s role for us is less about interpretation and more about automation. Making video analysis happen faster, for example. I don’t think coaches have anything to worry about at this point in time.” What about us journos? “You guys might be at risk a little bit more.” Harsh but fair. More seriously, Smith thinks far-reaching medical decisions should still be made by human beings, but is convinced technology has an even bigger player welfare role to play, either by identifying ways to make the game safer or by developing better protective gear. “We just need to keep innovation moving on the player welfare side as fast as we’re also building it for entertainment.” Whatever you think about this Big Brother impact on sporting romance, the technology is here to stay. Smith reckons rising athleticism across the board – “We are so lucky as consumers to have the quality we now see in every league” – is one of the many new age positives. So is modern sport now an art or a science? In Silicon Valley it is not even a contest. Farewell to ‘Grizz’ Tributes have been pouring in after the death, aged 80, of the former New Zealand coach and Canterbury legend Alex “Grizz” Wyllie. Wyllie played 40 games, including 11 Tests, for the All Blacks between 1970 and 1973 and was assistant coach of the New Zealand side that won the first Rugby World Cup-, in 1987. Overall he was involved in 29 Tests as an All Black coach between 1988 and 1991 – he won 25, lost three and drew one for a win percentage of 86.2% – and also coached in South Africa and in Argentina, whom he helped guide to a first World Cup quarter-final in 1999. Agustín Pichot, the former Pumas captain, described him as “the founder of Argentine’s modern rugby” and paid a warm tribute on X. “To me he was the one who shaped a way of seeing the game from a simple perspective and above all, he taught me about loyalty, love, and commitment.” Those on the receiving end when the Lions fought a brutal battle against Canterbury and Wyllie in 1971 may find it hard to square that violent experience with Pichot’s testimony, but the outwardly gruff, tough Wyllie cared deeply about rugby. “When we were playing as kids it was a game when you had space to run with the ball in hand, pass and try and score tries,’’ Wyllie told Stuff.co.nz back in 2021. “It seems to be all about defence now and that is not really what the game is about. It is about attack so that people can enjoy watching it.” RIP Grizz. One to watch The Rugby Football Union faces its first special general meeting for 25 years on Thursday with Bill Sweeney, the chief executive, facing a no-confidence vote. Even if it goes against Sweeney – 1,300 member clubs and unions are eligible to vote – the final decision on his position will still technically rest with the RFU board which, to date, has stood squarely behind him. The Whole Game Union, which represents a range of clubs nationwide, says the leadership of English rugby is failing to offer sufficient assistance to the grassroots game, which is struggling with falling participation, increased bureaucracy and rising costs. On the other side of the fence, the RFU’s interim chair,Sir Bill Beaumont, who has been touring the country with Sweeney over the past two months to garner support, believes ousting Sweeney would be counterproductive as a change of leadership could send the RFU “into paralysis” just months before England hosts the women’s World Cup. The result will be keenly awaited. Memory lane Barbarians 23 New Zealand 11, January 1973: one of the most famous games of rugby ever played, renowned for Gareth Edwards’ astonishing try after Phil Bennett began it all with a series of sidesteps 10 yards out from his own line. But this was the 1970s, and a needle match, with the All Blacks eager for revenge after the Lions had won in New Zealand in 1971 – 12 of the tourists were in the Barbarians XV. While Edwards’ try has been replayed countless times, you don’t often see the Wales flanker Tom David and Grant Batty fighting at the side of the Cardiff Arms Park pitch after the former late-tackled the All Black winger into touch, even though plenty of photographers went in for a closer look. | 
England players review a scrum during a training session Photograph: Dan Mullan/RFU/Getty Images 
